[01:51AM, December 23, UTC +08:00]
PAULA exhaled as the last spasms rode through her body and collapsed in a euphoric haze. She sighed tiredly when hairy powerful arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her into a hug. She was never one for cuddling, but she knew he was and so she let it slide. She chuckled as a rough ticklish sensation rubbed up her spine, and yelped when a sharp point pricked the back of her neck.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"I kinda liked that," she laughed, drawing lazy circles on his chest. He replied with a throaty chuckle and slowly slid his hand down to her lower back. She pulled back to look at his face and raised an eyebrow.
"Want to go again?"
"No," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Not yet. Just want to hold you."
She squirmed involuntarily. He frowned, and then exhaled tiredly.
"I broke a rule, didn't I?"
"Not your fault, really," she sighed, "with all your hormones flying about."
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes almost glowing in the dim lights. The intensity of his gaze scared her a little, and for a moment, she feared he would lash out or do something unpredictable.
"Sorry," he murmured. He looked away. She knew his feelings were hurt, but she really didn't see the need to apologize. He knew what he was getting into when they started this. She made sure she had spelled out all the rules. Keep things simple. Avoid unnecessary complications.
"I have to go to Wales," he said.
"Wha- why did you bring that up?"
"Just wanted to let you know. I was invited. Christmas dinner."
"Oh. Are you going to see her?"
He gave her a peculiar look before he replied. "Yes."
"Well, good luck with that."
He narrowed his eyes. "Are you jealous?"
"What?" She snorted mirthlessly. "Why would I be jealous? It's not like you're in a relationship with either of us."
"She's the mother of my children and we're lovers. Those are relationships, as far as I'm concerned."
"We're not lovers," she spat, pushing herself off him completely. "We get bored, we have sex, we go back to work. That's how this works."
He bristled and scowled at her and she returned his glare challengingly. Suddenly, he smiled.
"Come with me."
She blinked. "What?"
"We're just fuck buddies, right? So you'll have no problem with coming to a family dinner and-"
"Oh hell no," she said, shifting away from him. "That's crossing the line. Besides, do I look like the type to sit around making small talk with strangers and dancing around other people's feelings? I already have plans."
"You spend every Christmas watching old movies and eating unhealthy amounts of peanut butter," he scoffed.
"Those are plans," she said, flicking his nose. "And Gone with the Wind is a classic."
He winced and rubbed the spot. "Flick me all you want, I still want you to come. It'll be fun."
She harrumphed. "For you."
"Could be for you too," he said, propping his head up on his elbow. "It's at Maureen's."
"Ner?"
He nodded. She couldn't stop her lips from curling into a smile. Any chance she got to butt heads with the Ner witch – Adam's sister – was welcome, even though there was a good chance that she could end up pissing off Maureen while she was possessed by the Fairy queen Titania and get destroyed by an unfathomably powerful supernatural entity.
But the risk was half the fun.
"Sorry, when is it again?"
He grinned.
<->
Paula startled awake to the sound of a loud bang. She turned towards the bedside clock. It was almost eight. There were voices yelling outside her apartment, their words muffled by the walls, yet she could make out that one was male and the other female.
And here I thought this time of year was about family and togetherness.
She stretched out on the bed and turned to the other side. He was gone; the spot where he had slept was cool, which meant he had let himself out early. She had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, she was relieved that he had saved her the awkwardness of asking him to leave, on the other – strange as seemed – she didn't exactly enjoy waking up alone after a night of frolicking. The woman outside screamed something dismissive and the sound of a door being slammed followed. She heard heavy footfalls going down the corridor, likely the man leaving to cool off. She smiled, despite herself. She didn't enjoy the noise or drama, but hearing couples argue always reminded her of why she decided to avoid romance and all its...excesses.
Her doorbell chimed and she groaned in annoyance. She pulled herself out of bed, pulled on an oversized t-shirt as she went to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Paula, it's me. Hannah. Buzz me in."
She frowned, but pushed the button anyway, confused at why her sister would be visiting – and so early too. They hadn't really spoken in over a year and usually preferred to keep their distance. She trudged to the door and waited, unlocking it when she heard footsteps approaching. At the first knock, she swung the door open. Hannah jerked back in surprise, and then smiled awkwardly. Paula took in her sister's appearance, noting how her usually clear porcelain skin now looked sallow and her eyes were slightly puffy. She was dressed casually – almost carelessly – in a large gray t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, a rather large leather bag hanging from her shoulder. Her dark hair was held up in a ponytail and she looked like she had tried to put some makeup on but quit halfway.
"Hi..."
"Hi."
"May I come in?"
Paula stepped aside to let her through, before closing and locking the door behind her. She kept her eyes on her sister as she walked slowly towards the kitchenette and filled the kettle with water. Hannah was looking around the apartment, no doubt going to comment about the decorations – or lack thereof. Paula was never really into the festivities. She had barely even taken down some of the plastic pumpkin ornaments she hung for Halloween.
"Tea?"
Hannah spun around. "What?"
"I'm making tea. You want?"
"Yeah. Black, please. Thanks."
Paula placed the electric kettle on its stand and flicked the switch. She looked back at her sister, who was staring at her with a faraway look before she blinked and seemed to refocus on her surroundings. Paula sighed. There obviously was a lot on her mind.
"So...what brings you here?"
"I wanted to invite you over for Christmas," Hannah replied, looking away uncertainly.
"Okay..."
"It's been long, and you never visit. Violet also really wants to see you."
Paula smiled faintly at that. Her niece was a spirited young girl with more energy than was legally permissible for someone of her age. Paula tried to remember how old the girl was supposed to be. Twelve? Fourteen, maybe? Her smile faded when she noticed that Hannah's eyes had become glassy, like she was about to cry.
"That's not all, is it?"
"Hmm?"
"What happened?"
"Who said anything happened?"
"You showing up here at eight in the morning on a weekday looking like shit to invite me for Christmas dinner doesn't say 'jolly good time.' So spit it out."
The kettle bubbled and snapped off, the only sound filling in the silence. Hannah seemed to have gone paler, if that was somehow possible. Paula plopped two Earl Grey teabags in large mugs and poured in the hot water, still waiting for her to speak up. Hannah swallowed and looked away.
"We're getting divorced."
"Why?"
"He's been cheating on me."
"So?"
"What do you mean 'so'?"
"Men cheat, Hannah. Big whoop. Go for marriage counselling or whatever couples are supposed to do for things like this."
"It's not just that he's cheating. It's how he's cheating. I found out when I saw him signing child support checks. He's been with her for over a year, Paula. They have a bloody kid together. That kind of infidelity isn't something you try to play down."
Paula took a deep breath.
"Have you told Violet?"
"No. Not yet. Don't want to ruin Christmas. Tim left anyway. Lied to her and said he's been called off to work. He's spending Christmas with the slut and her bastard son."
Paula looked down. The tea looked saturated, and she squeezed the teabags between two spoons to get out the extra liquid before throwing them in the bin. She pushed one mug towards Hannah and dropped the jar of sugar beside it.
"Well... I don't know what to say. I guess, sorry about your...situation."
"It's okay. I'm already done crying about it. So, you'll be coming, right?"
She considered it. She now had two offers for Christmas dinner, both of which promised to be awkward. One involved sitting across the table from her lover's ex and her extended family, while the other involved having to deal with her emotional sister and rambunctious niece while keeping her mouth shut about a messed up marriage.
Lucky me.
"Sorry," Paula said finally. "I'm going to Wales tomorrow. It's a work thing."
"Always working," Hannah said with a dry laugh. "Always on the move."
"A girl's gotta eat," Paula murmured, sipping her tea. "And bills won't pay themselves."
"You're in your forties now, Paula. We're not getting any younger. When are you going to settle down?"
Paula dropped her mug and pushed hair out of her eyes.
"Marriage isn't for everyone. Some of us have better things to do than deal with other people's crap."
"Is that really how you see it?"
"Needy husbands, whiny kids, stuck-up in-laws and demanding school teachers. Seems like a pretty shitty deal, to be honest. "
"It's much more than that and you know it. There are so many things you'll miss out on if you keep trying with that attitude. I know you have no problem getting guys. You know what your problem is? You're scared. You don't want to commit to anything because you're afraid of getting hurt."
"Sure, sure. Commitment is wonderful. That's why I'm the one living in peace and you look like you haven't slept in three days."
"Don't make this about me."
"Why not? Since you're being an advocate for the subject, let's explore how great marriage has been for you, shall we? Oh wait, it hasn't. Your happily-ever-after is now a joyous festival of lawyers and alimony cheques. Congratulations."
Hannah scowled, but the expression was gone almost as quickly as it formed. She placed her mug quietly on the kitchen counter and turned away, walking rigidly towards the door. She tried the handle first, before unlocking and opening it. She stopped, looking out into the corridor, her hands shaking.
"I knew you could be mean, but I never thought you'd really be such a bitch."
"Say hi to Violet for me."
The door slammed closed. Paula looked down at her mug distastefully, before grabbing the other and pouring the contents of both into the sink. She shook her head, exhaling exasperatedly. Even after all this time, the subject of 'why aren't you married yet' – which her mother had nagged about for more than a decade to the point that she began to wonder if it was her raison d'être – still managed to rile her. She would probably have to apologize to Hannah later, after they'd both had their time to cool off. But the sooner, the better. With her sister's tendency to internalize her emotions, there was no telling how long she'd hold on to this one before she snapped. She leaned back against her kitchen counter and hissed.
It's a fucking wonderful time of year.
<->
As Paula pulled her suitcase off the baggage reclaim carousel at Cardiff Airport, she still asked herself why the hell she was doing any of this. She had originally gone with the excuse of 'nothing better to do', which was why she had spent a good amount of money and time on plane tickets and airport waiting rooms when she easily could have opened a portal into the Ner Witch's backyard. She'd managed to grab a few gift items on the way – chocolates, mostly – from the airport shops, just so she won't show up empty-handed, but as she made her way past the 'Nothing to Declare' sign at the Customs checkpoint, she began to wonder if boredom was enough reason to travel halfway across the world only to spend a holiday she really didn't care about in the company of total strangers.
Yep. Definitely.
She shuddered as she walked into the Arrivals lounge. It wasn't cold, but the sight of the snow-covered landscape outside sent virtual chills through her. Christmas in Australia was a summer holiday. This looked like it promised to be a sub-zero temperature nightmare.
"Paula!"
She turned, smiling when she saw him. As she approached, she noticed another man standing beside, looking curiously at her. He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, with dirty blonde hair and warm honey brown eyes, his lips lilted in what seemed like a permanent half-smile. He extended a hand to help with her luggage as soon as she came close. She smirked at that.
"I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."
He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, ma'am."
She looked back at her man, and nodded subtly at the stranger. He frowned at first then realized what she was trying to communicate and sighed tiredly.
"I'm sorry, where are my manners...Paula, this is James. James McCall."
"Pleased to meet you James."
"Likewise. We've heard so much about you."
"Good things, I hope."
"Mostly."
She smiled, buttoning up her coat with her free hand as they walked through the exit leading to Airport Parking. James said something about going ahead to get the car and they waited by the door. She looked at the other man – the reason she was here – and raised an eyebrow at him.
"You've been staring since I got out."
"I'm still surprised you came. I thought you'd change your mind midway and port yourself back home."
"I'm a woman of my words."
"No you're not."
"Okay, the thought crossed my mind. But once I bought that first mega-pack of Toblerone at Duty Free, I knew there was no going back."
He snorted and she sighed.
"God, this is going to be a cringe-fest."
"What?"
"I just realized that we're about to get in a car with the husband of your ex and go sit at a dinner with her and your kids and her new family."
"Are you nervous?"
"Aren't you? I mean, you're going to have to face your daughter and I'm pretty sure she hates your guts."
He took in a strained breath, his apprehension of that scenario visible on his face. She felt almost sorry for him. Sure, she had no kids of her own, but she knew how hard it was to have your own flesh and blood tell you that they hated you, especially after you had done and sacrificed so much for them. Doubly hard for him, given his tendency for strong emotions.
The sound of the car horn startled her she turned to see a black compact MPV parked in front of them. James was looking at them strangely, but blinked the look off and offered an apologetic smile.
"Alright, hop in. It's going to be a long drive."
And a long drive it was, even with Paula fading in and out of consciousness due to jet lag. It took over five hours, as James refused to go over sixty kilometres per hour and the house wasn't anywhere near the main city of Swansea. It was evening by the time James said they were nearing their destination, and she was forced awake when the car started running over the gravel path leading to it, the vibrations somehow both irritating and oddly pleasant. She sat up when the grand structure that was the Ner Witch's house came into view, a massive grey stone mansion with symmetrical Victorian architecture and white marble trimmings that looked like it was transported from the 1800s – or had survived that long. The house and the clearing before it were covered in a light dusting of snow – which was odd, considering how heavily smothered the trees were in the forest surrounding them, their branches sagging under the weight of the snow.
"I see Maureen's home."
"Hmm." James said absently, bringing the car around the miniature replica of the Stonehenge that decorated the centre of the grass-covered clearing. He parked the car in front of the house beside two others and everyone got out. Paula suddenly felt skittish. She had tried to imagine what this would be like, but now that she was really here, she realized she really wasn't mentally prepared. Before she could do anything to calm her nerves, the large double doors of the house opened and two women came out. One was tall, with straight chin-length blonde hair, wearing a thick fur coat over a short green dress that matched her eyes. The other was an African woman with piercing brown eyes, whose loosely curly hair was held back with a colourful printed scarf. Both were holding glasses of white wine and looked down at them from the elevated porch.
"You're late," the blonde said, sipping idly from her glass.
"Good to see you too, Claire," James replied with a chuckle. "When did you get in?"
"About an hour ago. Everyone's in the kitchen. Mum gave the Proles a break. They're having a massive Winterfest in New Arcadia this year."
"Sweet. Why aren't we going?"
"We would have, but Julia is scared someone could swap Alexa for a changeling and we don't want that."
"Oh. Wait, aren't you scared for your kids?"
"Have you met my kids? No fairy would want them, trust me."
As if on cue, there was a ripple in the air above them as a young girl appeared, laughing excitedly as she fell with outstretched hands.
"Uncle James!"
James caught her in a hug; with such ease that Paula felt they had probably practiced this several times. She noticed the black woman startle at the apparition. So far, she had not said anything. And neither had he, she realized, giving her man a side glance.
"How's my little troublemaker?" James laughed, dropping her and tousling her platinum blonde hair with his hands. She smacked him playfully.
"I'll have you know I've been a very good girl. Unlike some cousins of mine."
"She means your daughter, mostly," Claire said flatly. "And I need more wine."
She huffed and went back into the house. And with her exit, everyone's attention zeroed in on the black woman, who was still in the same spot, looking down at them with an unreadable expression.
"Hi," she said quietly. Paula turned towards both men, since she had no idea whom she was addressing and assumed it wasn't her. James was also looking at the second man, also under the assumption that the greeting was not meant for him. The man smiled back at the woman, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Hello, Fumbi."
"You look different," she said.
"So do you," he replied.
"I know," she said with a light laugh, pushing back the scarf on her head. "How long has it been?" "Fifteen years?"
"Wow. Time flies."
"Yeah."
"It's great to see you though."
"Yeah. You too."
"The kids are inside."
She gave Paula a quick glance before turning and walking into the house. He stared after her with a slight smile on his face, and an awkward silence followed. James raised his eyebrows, seemingly amused by their exchange, and the little girl beside him walked up to Paula and stretched out her hand for a handshake.
"Hi. I'm Alexa. Everyone calls me Lexy."
Paula smiled, impressed at her boldness, and brought out her hand out of her coat pocket to receive the handshake.
"Paula James. Everyone calls me the Nether Witch."
Lexy smiled back, and then turned to stare at the other man curiously, before recognition crossed her features.
"You're Ollie's Dad, aren't you?"
The man blinked out of his haze and looked down at her, smiling weakly.
"Yes. I'm Damilare. Pleased to meet you, Lexy."
<->
By the time she was seated for dinner, Paula had met pretty much everyone, though she was having trouble keeping the details of their short exchanges. Claire was James's oldest sister, and worked as a curator for the Natural History Museum in London. Her husband, Donald, a hulking man with balding salt-and-pepper hair, was a defence attorney with a rather bizarre fondness for Korean cartoons. They had two teenage sons who she was yet to be introduced to – they were supposedly occupied with their hand-held video-game consoles upstairs and had refused to come down despite several calls. James's other sibling was Julia, a woman in her late thirties, currently separated from her husband, and Lexy was her only child. James himself had two children – an eleven year-old loud-mouthed girl named Alison who was gifted with some Antimatter magic and a shy six year-old boy, Brian. He was also the adoptive father of Damilare's biological children, the fifteen year old twins Olutayo and Folasade – or Oliver and Sarah, as they were otherwise named. Both were former members of the Nucleus Faction which Paula had helped destroy barely a month ago, but as their parents were not aware of this, they all pretended to be meeting for the first time, though their knowing glances and barely-concealed sneers could easily have betrayed the charade.
Paula felt a ripple of power behind her and turned just as Maureen walked in. The woman was at least in her sixties, but like Adam, she still looked young and spirited, the natural side-effect of being the chosen vessel for the Fairy Queen. She narrowed her eyes and smiled at Paula as she took her seat, then looked over the table at everyone, frowning slightly when she saw the two vacant seats beside Olutayo. She closed her eyes and sighed, and there was a sound of screaming from upstairs, followed by a thump and footsteps bounding across the wooden floors. In seconds, two teenage boys rushed in through the door, slowing to a quick walk when everyone turned to stare and hurriedly occupied the empty chairs. The older one gave Maureen an apologetic look.
"Sorry Grandma."
"Really sorry," the other one chorused.
Maureen merely smiled and turned to Donald.
"If you would be a dear and pass the casserole."
And with that, dinner began; a clamour of clinking tableware and idle banter and trips down memory lane. Paula found herself playing the role of an observer, watching the interactions between the children, their parents and Maureen with curiosity. There was something to the entire scene she couldn't quite place, but it made her feel warm, in a weird almost emotionally uncomfortable sort of way. She could never remember having an experience such as this before, at least, not to this degree. Dinners with her own family were few and far between, as everyone was usually busy with their individual schedules.
"So how did you two meet?"
Paula blinked and turned to face Julia, who was looking at them expectantly. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with something that would shift her attention elsewhere, but then Damilare spoke up.
"Through work."
"Oooh, a workplace romance. Details, details."
"Yeah," Paula agreed, barely managing to contain her smirk. "The first time I sliced the head off a shrieking banshee, he knew it was true love."
The table went silent. She looked around, taking in their confused stares, and started feeling a little uncomfortable that the joke didn't go over well. So much for shock value. Alexa narrowed her eyes.
"Wait, how did you survive the shriek of a banshee?"
Just like that, the conversation resumed, each person posing a different question as they all tried to get her story straight. Paula had trouble trying to keep up, and eventually just gave up and let Damilare do the talking. Even his ex seemed interested as they began to recount a few of their adventures together, and once offered her a small smile when their eyes met across the table. As Paula sipped her wine to the background of laughter provoked by one of Claire's jokes, a sense of calm and belonging fell over her, and she realized that she felt more at home here than she had ever felt anywhere in a long time. She turned to look at Damilare, chatting animatedly with Alexa across the table, and idly entertained the thought of doing something like this every year. Maybe someday, with children of her own, if Damilare agreed to –
Her eyes widened and she coughed, nearly choking on her drink.
Oh fuck.
What the hell am I thinking?
Damilare turned and looked at her, eyes full of concern.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Sure. I'm fine."
As long as I don't complicate this, sure.
I'll be fine.