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Windfall: Home for the Holidays

by Tempo

~ ~ ~

Airports were loading screens, Max decided, rather than real places. You could land in the airports of a thousand cities and leave without any dust in your fur. You had to step outside for that. They even smelled like nowhere: cheap coffee, cleaning agents, and hasty departure. The crowd, he pressed through as politely as possible, a feat made easier by most species tendency to get out of a two-meter canine's path. They all scrambled along to their connections, their own plot lines. His girlfriend buzzed rapid-fire messages at the phone in his paw.

He felt sore. Airline seats were not designed for him, though no cubs had been seated behind him to dab jam on his tail, which was nice. Hefting bags stuffed with collectible card games, he walked out the main doors. A crisp breeze traced his nose, nothing compared to the winds of Montana. People complained about the wet chill here, though the husky's thick fur protected him from that pretty well. He'd brought waterproof winter clothing as a concession to his mother, in a bid to distract from his demands he come back for every holiday and eventually just stay on the farm. It didn't work. He hadn't found a good time to mention the supernatural reality he confronted with his former cast mate.

A silver-blue hatchback puttered up somewhat faster than necessary, braking to emit a smiling otter. "Maxie!" She rounded the car and crashed into his chest with a hug. "Hey!"

"Hey rudderbutt." With a wag, he lifted the chittering otter in his arms. Her delicate scent swept his mind through a thousand tender moments in her company. She felt fluffier than he remembered, maybe even silkier, but he had been gone a couple weeks.

"Check it out!" She twirled against him and fluffed her chest toward him. "My winter coat grew in!"

Max glanced around at the passing passengers. Most of them were jet lagged enough not to notice if he touched his girlfriend's chest fluff.

Before he could quite make contact, the car behind hers honked, sending the otter into the air. She scrambled for purchase, then shook a webbed fist at the impatient airport patron. "I'm having a reunion here!"

Through the windscreen, the driver, a panther in a flowery blouse, raise thick paws in a gesture of not understanding. Beside her, two cubs clawed and bit at each other, their murderous efforts hampered by booster seats.

"Ugh! Fine!" Kylie scrambled back into the car.

Max placed his luggage in the back and sat in the passenger's seat. The car sank a centimeter or two. Clods of wet snow smacked on the windscreen as they navigated the maze of parking lots. The car only got stuck once, and it only took a steady push to dislodge it. The highway, better-plowed, passed under them uneventfully.

She very pointedly didn't look at him. "Been enjoying the pictures?"

He felt a flush under his fur. "Nightly."

"I hope you're not threatened." Her hazel eyes flicked to him, then back onto the road. A smile rose on her muzzle like the tide.

His paw came to rest on her thigh. "Happy for the help on team ottergasm."

"Oooh. That's good to hear." She wiggled in the driver's seat. "You inspired the purchase, ya know. I needed something to get me through three weeks without you."

The husky nodded with pride. "I suspected as much."

"Remember that night you were stuck in your uncle's vacation powerpoint and we were texting the whole time?"

He straightened in his seat. "You were using it then?"

"Mmm, the whole time." Her giggle lifted his ears. "In your bed."

"That's...interesting." Max nodded, feeling quite lively in spite of the long flight. He adjusted himself in the seat and tried to rein in his imagination. "Couldn't tell by the glow of the glow-in-the-dark dildo."

"I left it in your dresser, in case the hallway nightlight goes out." She changed lanes and cast him a sparkle of a look. "Not that I'll be needing it now that I've got the real thing back."

The husky rolled his eyes, then rubbed his paw back and forth on her thigh. He'd missed her in so many ways.

"Not that I'm opposed to sharing." She bit a mischievous smile as she snuck him another glance.

"That's...not something I'd ever given any thought to." Picturing the dildo, he did some geometry in his head.

She snickered. "I have."

"Of course you have." He shook his head. "Maybe, if I can get a little familiar with it first."

"Well!" Her eyebrows rose, then she flicked on the turn signal and ease over to the off-ramp. "Go team ottergasm."

Exiting the highway, they cruised through the streets of Windfall. A cascade of lights and decorations swept past in a blur. The town square boasted an array of pop-up businesses, including a roasted nut pavilion staffed by a tussle of squirrels. At the entrance to Bourn Holt, a small aquatic automobile perched alongside the road, with evidence of several attempts to motor up the hill. With several centimeters of snow on its roof, the Amphicar keeled halfway into a ditch.

His eyebrows drifted up. "Speaking of things wedged into places they aren't designed for..."

"It's designed for water, not snow. Couldn't get up the hill." She winked at him. "Got down it really well."

"I bet." He resolved to haul her little car back to the house as soon as weather allowed. "So, what's it going to be like?"

"The usual Yuletide celebrations, plus Max, equals great." She squeezed his paw.

He wagged in the confines of the seat's tail slot. His family might have tried to guilt him into staying, but now that he was half a continent away, he could relax with his girlfriend and learn more about her ottery ways. "Sounds relaxing."

"Any previous year, yes." Kylie gave a quiet sigh. "Mom's got this crazy scheme in mind where all the relations come over."

The husky calculated how many otters could fit in Bourn Manor and quickly found it came to more than he could imagine. "We do have the space."

"Yeah, but I barely know them." A glum look fell on her rounded muzzle. "Mom remembers everybody from back when she grew up here."

He nodded. "Well, everybody older than us."

"I just..." Her webbed fingers gripped the steering wheel. "Bourn Manor's only starting to feel like home. I feel weird about having a whole extended family sail in there to remind me how I don't know anything about it." She stared out into the fading day, almost the shortest of the year. "The things I've found out about it haven't all been great thus far."

"Except the family tradition of monster hunting. That's kinda rad."

She smirked at the winding road leading into the property. "There is that."

"The trouble with families is they're composed of people." He patted her knee. "People are complicated."

She smirked at his wisdom. "Well, if she does summon a horde of otters down on us, I'm sure she'll find some use for a big strong dog."

"Finally something she and my mother agree on." He stretched his still-sore muscles within the confines of the car. "And what about you?"

She pulled into the driveway. Bourn Manor hunched under its many-sloped roof, the over-hangs of snow giving it a resentful air. His girlfriend parked the car and popped up to smooch his cheek with a cheery chitter. "I'm sure I can think of a use for you too."

~ ~ ~

Snow tumbling serenely around her, Kylie watched as her boyfriend chopped firewood. As a husky, the winter chill had little visible effect on him. She, on the other paw, wore several layers of insulation and only felt remotely warm because her hunky boyfriend had just taken off his shirt. Her booted feet stamped to keep the blood moving.

Heavily muscled and slowly panting, Max brought the axe down with tireless ease. Must be nice to be gigantic. He was twice her weight and mostly muscle, even under all that fluff. The halves of the log spiraled off the stump. His heavy paws lifted another log out of the snow and set it atop the low, ancient stump. Another swing split the piece cleanly.

"You're pretty good at that for a city kid." Webbed fingers wiggling in her mittens, she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Har har. I'm still a farm dog, thank you." With a crack that echoed through the woods, he split another log. "Being on your mom's TV show didn't erase all my outdoor knowledge." Those sky-blue eyes flicked to her. He paused and leaned on the axe. "Rudderbutt, you don't have to be out here if you're cold."

"Are you kidding?" Her ears popped up inside her stocking cap. "First winter coat, remember? What's the point if I don't use it?"

His gentle gaze swept over her. "You are looking fluffier."

"We can't all be immune to the cold by default." She wiggled her head a little, remarking at the novel sensation of added insulation. "Besides, watching you exert yourself shirtless is my favorite hobby."

The dog rolled his eyes and got back to work.

After another ten minutes or so, he finished chopping a large pile of logs. She picked up an armful of firewood. Throwing his shirt over his shoulder, he picked up three times as much. Here and there, clumps of snow tumbled from branches in silence. They tromped back through the woods to her sprawling ancestral home. Across its various roof slants, the structure bore the weight of the snow with stern indifference. Colorful lights blinked on the deck railing, diffused by a layer of fresh powder, providing an island of multicolored cheer against the gloomy bulk of the mostly-empty building.

Paused on the front steps, the otter studied the unusual glow. She'd have thought of it as alien, the only alien she'd met favored sickly yellow light. "Neat. I've never seen lights under snow before."

"The magic of LEDs." Crunching up the walk behind her, he stopped too. "My parents still have giant incandescent lights. They just melt their way free."

The pair entered Bourn Manor. Stamping their boots clean, they crossed the living room and set the firewood by the hearth. Festive knickknacks glimmered atop dark wood shelves. A pine tree had been crammed into the living room, the top bough bent against the ceiling. They'd only reclaimed a fraction of the maze-like old mansion, the part her mom called "the old house," since it had been the mother mushroom from which the rest of the dwelling had sprouted.

Mutters and clatters rattled from the kitchen. Her mother unpacking additional Yuletide cheer, no doubt. Maybe some more of those glass buoy lights.

His big paws brushed bits of bark off his arms and into the hearth. A smile found his muzzle as he looked to his girlfriend. "What do you guys do for the big dinner?"

"A giant salmon." Her mouth watered at the idea of the flakey pink delight. The saliva felt cold, another unexpected side-effect of a real winter. "We always have one. We'll have to get an extra-giant one since you're here." A wiggle of excitement shimmied up her body.

He suppressed a snicker.

"What?" She eeled right up into his face. "You dare laugh at my people's traditions!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He bumped his nose to hers, his breath warm. "That's just very ottery."

She bounced up to kiss him, then settled easily into his arms. "You're okay? Your family's not going to come drag you away?"

"They'd never find us in this maze of a house." He patted the base of her tail. "Don't worry your rudderbutt, rudderbutt."

"Yeah, yeah..." Kylie rolled her eyes. She had a slight tendency to obsess and knew it. Being from a long line of monster hunters and a short line of TV producers, she at least came by it honestly.

With another kiss, the canine trotted backward toward the door. "I'm going to bring in the last of the firewood." His furry bulk slipped out the front door, trying to minimize the roll of winter air entering the house.

Slithering past the dining room, the younger otter swung into the kitchen, hanging off the doorframe with one paw, feeling painted-over scratches under her webs.

The middle-aged river otter chattered grumpily as she fired off a few quick texts, then stuffed the phone back in her pocket.

"Hey Mom?" She kept her voice casual. "What would you say to a turkey?"

"Hmm." Laura stood from rifling through old boxes of exotic pots and pans. "Probably: 'I have no idea how to cook you.'" Setting aside a large roasting pan, she crossed her arms under her breasts. "But I'm happy to try for the sake of our resident husky."

Happiness wiggled down her supple form. "Thanks Mom."

"You won't miss the braised salmon?" The elder otter leaned forward and tapped a claw on the pan lid.

"Well yeah, but we'll just have it next week or something." She tried to play it casual. No sense in handing her mom more to tease her about. "You haven't bought it yet, right."

"I haven't." She flipped the flaps of a box closed with her toe. "And I suppose someone somewhere on the Internet has posted turkey-baking advice..." She pulled a phone from her pocket and started searching.

Kylie nodded. That was easy. Maybe she'd do a couple other little things to help him feel at home.

~ ~ ~

Weeks passed and a festive air permeated the house on the tailwinds of an evergreen pine. Seated on his bed, browsing the Internet, Max swore off social media after a sustained barrage of his family's holiday photos. Had they posted this many pictures previous years? He'd been tagged in all of them and appeared in none. It had to be a psychological operation by his mother. Ears perking at a burst of otter profanity, the dog looked up from his laptop. A blend of spicy scents had been seeping under the door for the past hour, keeping him from finishing any of Laura's writing assignments. He rose, opened his bedroom door, and padded across the entryway to the jingles and clamor in the kitchen.

Cloying steam filled the room. Howled carols blasted from a waterproof phone on the counter, surrounded by open containers of spices. At the stove, his otter girlfriend stood on a step-stool to swirl a long-handled ladle into a massive pot with great enthusiasm. Small splashes pattered on the surface of the stove, which appeared to be supporting the weight for now.

A quick tap of his knuckles on the doorframe and he leaned against it. He'd been a big guy since his early teens and had learned to actively not sneak up on people. He didn't bother to hide his amusement, however.

"Oh hi, Maxie." She straightened an ancient oyster-print apron. "Wondered how long this holiday magic would take to summon you."

He stepped up behind her and rested paws on her curvy hips. "Stealing a page from my mom's cookbook, eh?"

The otter stirred with pride, sloshing more. "Aww, you knew because of the smell?"

"That and it's the only cider recipe I've seen that could be sailed across." He craned his muzzle over her shoulder to look at the almost-full lobster pot. "This is way too much for us, even with your relations."

"My entire family's coming over!" Her deft brown paws propped atop his big clumsy white ones.

Resting his chin atop her head, he chuckled. "Yeah, but they're all small."

Mock defiance chattered from her muzzle as she brandished the ladle at him. "We're not that small. You're just twice normal size."

"And yet you don't complain about how big I am..." A couple centimeters was all it took to bring her rump to his crotch. Thanks to the step stool, her tail fit very pleasantly against the bulge in his pants.

A pleased chitter rattled from her muzzle as it angled to brush under his jaw. "No, I suppose you have your uses." She kissed his extra-thick fluff.

He'd brushed extra well, so she didn't even get shed fur on her lips. He wagged. After a few pleasant seconds, he noticed a bowl of tiny green and red dog biscuits, too uniform to be homemade. He picked up one of each and sniffed: turkey and cranberry, respectively. "Why'd your mom have me carry in a turkey?"

Kylie glance to the barely-closed refrigerator. "She didn't want to throw her back out."

He nuzzled her unusually-fluffy cheek ruffs. "I thought fish was the dish."

"It was. But I thought it might be nice to bring in a little of what you're used to." She shrugged. "So I stalked your family online, then stole their recipes and music playlist."

The musical woos and woofs soared to a very familiar chorus. Max gave a pleased sigh, tightening his arms around her. "I appreciate the thought, but you don't need to do anything special for me."

"You're missing out on your family." A squirm of guilt caused her to slither in his arms.

"You guys are my family too. You especially." He squeezed her middle. "Being part of your life is the plan, rudderbutt."

With a small squeak of relief, she nuzzled into his chest.

~ ~ ~

In the living room, Kylie lay on the floor, scrolling through the Internet one phone screen at a time. Outside, wet snow fell. The world outside her door had become a slush drink flavored with inconvenience.

Across the dining room, floorboards intended for the weight of otters creaked under a much greater burden. Max trod into the room looking gloomy, phone in paw.

She studied his face, not bothering to get up, but bothering to soften her tone. "How's your mom?"

"Demanding." He sighed, closed his eyes, and relaxed his posture.

She arched an eyebrow. "I thought you were going to talk before you left."

"I did." His triangular ears tuned in on her. "She had a conversation saved up about how I should ditch you guys for two holidays in a row." He glanced at, then pocketed his phone. "This was just her resurrecting the ghost of conversations past. And informing me I'm coming back for New Year's Eve."

Kylie squirmed through a long moment. "But you're not going back...right?"

"No, I'm not going." His ears rose with his tone, though in confusion and frustration rather than anger. "She needs to learn I'm an adult and she can't stop me."

"Yeah." She inclined her muzzle at the window. "Especially on ice."

Looking down two meters, the dog crossed his arms. "These talks are usually indoors."

"It's a husky household." She swished her tail into his ankle. "You probably have ice floors."

"We have carpet floors." With one foot and no apparent effort, he rotated her ninety degrees.

"The point stands. She's not that much bigger than me, and you toss me around like a throw pillow." Her arms flopped to the sides. "Just keep walking."

His muzzle unfurled a sad smile. "That's what I'm doing."

~ ~ ~

Sprawled over the sofa, Kylie let the holiday happen around her. Snow tumbled past the window outside, dusted with color by the setting sun. The dining room table groaned under the weight of a slew of side-dishes. Her mom clattered around in the kitchen, muttering into her phone. The stress of uncertain plans radiated through the house. The younger otter watched her boyfriend's butt as he poked around inside the fireplace, which proved therapeutic. His fluffy tail swished over jeans pulled tight over his rump.

Across the room, those heavy white paws assembled an intricate structure from sticks and logs. He'd tried to explain to her the complex theories behind how to build a fire, but she told him to save time by just showing her.

With an impatient chitter, the otter rolled belly-up, head dangling toward the carpet. "Wouldn't it just be faster to spray the logs with lighter fluid?"

"Much faster." He tore apart some old cardboard boxes for tinder. "Maybe even fast enough to burn down the house."

"Otter houses can't burn down. They have too many pools." She could think of four, not counting large bathtubs. She reached into a mixing bowl of caramel-drizzled popcorn and dropped the tidbits one at a time into her open mouth. They had a pleasant crunch. "True fact."

The dog emitted an agreeable grunt. A mixture of rude lutrine sea shanties and howled canine carols drifted from her mom's battered stereo. After another five minutes of building the most flammable log cabin possible, Max struck a match and lit the cardboard. The ancient material ignited with stuttering eagerness, giving off a faint musty smell from its decades in the attic. New boxes were saved for repacking.

The fireplace crackled brighter, casting hues to match the sunset. The massive pine filled a quarter of the room. A sparse scattering of ornaments hung on its boughs like carolers lost in a vast forest.

She pondered the tree. "We shoulda bought more decorations."

Sitting down on the sofa, he shrugged. "We can add more over time."

She snuggled up to him. "So you'll be around to help add them?"

"Yep." He threw his arm around her shoulders. "Besides, you can't just buy decorations. You have to be given them over time. And quietly throw out the ones you don't like."

Alone for the moment, the younger otter elbowed her boyfriend. "So, how's this compare, Maxie? To what your family does?"

Scanning the room with his ears, he gathered a response for a moment. "Quieter."

Kylie snorted. "In spite of Mom's best efforts."

He soaked up the ambience for another second, then turned those bright blue eyes to her. "Saner."

She tilted her head side to side. "Not a word usually associated with my family, but I'll take it."

A glance at the dining room table, then he growled a chuckle. "Lacking a yule-log meatloaf."

"A what?" She peered at him to clues. He had to be making that up.

"A very large meatloaf..." He spread his paw almost a meter apart. "...festively decorated."

"You could have asked for one." She bopped him in the shoulder.

He shook his blocky muzzle, then hooked a thumb toward the dining room. "A turkey that size brooks no rivals." As his stomach growled, the scent took him by the nose until he was facing the origin of the savory scent. "I really want to get started on that thing."

"Still worth it?" Her gaze floated up to his like a brave balloon. "Being here instead, I mean."

His strong arms closed around her. "Mmmhmm."

Having finally convinced herself to trust him to know when he's happy, Kylie cuddled up to his warmth with a merry chirr, disrupted only by muffled chatters from across the dining room. "I can't believe Mom is still on the phone." She tumbled to the tree and snagged a small present. "Here." She tossed the box to him. "Open your family's gift."

He caught and considered the box. "Can we start without Laura?"

Carrying a small gift for herself, she flopped down on the sofa beside him. "We always do one the day before." She paused, then groaned when he didn't move: "I give you permission, Maxie."

A cardboard cube, slapped with postage, almost vanished in his giant white paw. His knife flickered from his pocket and whispered through the tape ceiling it. Inside, nested in crumpled bakery parchment, lay a coffee mug. He turned it so she could see the text: "The mountains are calling and I must go. - John Muir" soaring through a blue sky.

Kylie glanced from cup to boyfriend. "From your mom?"

He nodded with resignation.

"Subtle." She wiggled a little straighter on the sofa to see the paper and foil sticking out of the mug. "What's all the stuff in it?"

He pulled three little mylar packets free. "Mana Clash booster packs, from my sisters." A small envelope rattled around the ceramic enclosure, which he plucked out and read. "And something for you, from my dad." He offered it to her.

She opened it to find a delicate bundle of tiny gray-blue feathers and yellow spots. "A hat pin?"

From the vantage point of his height, Max peered with approval down at the object. "He ties flies."

She examined the hat pin for traces of insects, which only made him chuckle at her.

"Fishing flies. It's a Gray Ghost Streamer." He unfurled a paw toward it. "It's supposed to look like a smelt."

She plucked it from the packaging to examine in the firelight. "Huh, it kinda does. I guess I could wear a smelt on a hat."

The husky nodded. "Or you could fish with it and not be a weirdo."

"Wait, I'm an otter, so I know how to fly fish?" She noodled in place, then poked him in the ribs. "That's a little presumptuous."

He captured her poking paw. "You've worn a fishing vest every time he's seen you, in person and on TV."

"I guess that's fair." With her still-free paw, she examined the business end of the fishhook. "Did I tell you I found the spare spears for the harpoon gun? They were in with the lawn darts."

"Oh good." The dog rolled his eyes. "I was really worried about that."

"Well, if you're opening your gift from your parents, I'll open mine from Greg." Looking down at the present in her lap, she rubbed her paws together greedily. "Come on, Pinchy's gift certificate..." She shook the parcel. "Okay, maybe taped to canned oysters?"

Laura appeared in the living room doorway. "Well, Max, you can start on that turkey leg you've been eyeing for the past hour. No sense letting the food go to waste."

The canine's ears shot up, instantly departing the conversation. He quietly rose, patted his girlfriend's mother on the shoulder, and practically dashed to the dining room.

For a moment, the middle-aged otter stood and looked around the massive, mostly empty house. A heavy sigh sank her shoulders. "Nobody's coming."

Max's face craned back into the doorway behind her, ears up, plate already full.

Kylie watched her mother stalk into the room. "Nobody?"

The older otter collapsed into an easy chair. "The relations are worried about the roads, so they're having dinner at Thomas's place like usual."

"Can you blame them?" The dog woofed from the next room. "Even I'd hesitate to drive through the mashed potato you guys call snow." He hooked a clawed thumb toward the window. "Low visibility too."

"I guess I shouldn't be mad, but Thomas didn't exactly fight to get them out the door." With an agitated wiggle, she shoved her phone in her pocket. "That old grog-monger..."

Her daughter tossed both hands in the air. Her uncle Thomas ran a brewery just shy of the Canadian border, a few hours' drive away. "I thought he was on your side."

She shrugged. "More like willing to go along with me."

Kylie's small ears flicked down with a grumble. "So it's just the three of us, stuck in this giant house, with Turkeyzilla."

"And an industrial drum of cider." Already at the dining room table, the husky ladled himself another mug.

"You watch your tone about Turkeyzilla." She waggled a finger at her child. "Cooking it was a three-day ordeal. We've bonded."

Max reappeared in the doorway, juggling a steaming mug and a massive turkey leg. "At least you have a year to prepare now."

"True." The plumper lutrine allowed herself a sigh. "I may have been in producer mode, thinking I could call the shots and everyone would fall in line. We were gone for twenty years, and there's been significant tradition drift."

"We are up one husky, though." Kylie leaned over the arm of the sofa to make sure he'd hear. "He's big enough to count for several otters."

"He'd better, with all the food we have." The elder otter took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Returning, Max nodded, muzzle buried halfway through a massive turkey leg.

Kylie waved her still-unopened present. "We're opening gifts from estranged parents."

"Well!" She huffed into a half-smile. "I suppose I should open mine from my estranged ex."

Ever helpful, the dog fetched said gift from under the tree, carrying it gingerly in the paw not full of turkey. He handed it to the spectacled otter.

"Thank you, Max." With the patience that comes from being old, Laura drummed her paw pads on the object. "Go ahead and open yours, sweetie."

Kylie shredded the paper in a burst of glittery scraps. Inside the flat box, she found a filigree cheese wedge with a built-in opera glass. "A sextant? Is this an add-on for the Amphicar?" After finding a brochure for a floating camper trailer in the car's service manual, she'd believe just about anything.

Laura sat back, smiling fondly at the little brass gizmo. "That's an old Bevy heirloom."

She rocked the tarnished metal back and forth in her paw. "What? Did Greg pinch it when he left?"

"Very funny." She turned the large package over in her paws, causing it to glug softly. "I gave that to your father a long time ago. When he was looking for some direction in life." She picked at the wrapping on her present, looking for the edge of the tape. "As it happened, his direction was a little different than mine, that's all."

"Ah." Kylie peered through the scope at the twinkling lights, then set it on the coffee table in an aesthetically-pleasing manner. "I'm sure it'll tie the shots of my biopic together someday. I'd better save it."

Pushing up her glasses, Laura's voice took on a directorial tone. "See that you do. You're living in a very authentic props department." With that, she abandoned decorum and her claws tore through the wrapping. The paper fell away to reveal a bottle. The dark amber liquid sloshed in glass designed to look like a bundle of sugar canes with one taller in the center. The cork bore a tuft of dried and slightly-crumpled leaves. Her face lit up. "Oooooh, the good stuff."

The younger river otter's eyebrows rose. "Since when do you get more than a gift card from Dad?"

"It's not like we don't talk, kiddo. And we did just move back to his home state." She gripped the bottle in both webbed paws, then used her tail to launch herself off the sofa. "I have just the place for this..." Without explanation, she vanished into the kitchen.

Dabbing his muzzle with a napkin, Max lifted pert ears to his girlfriend.

Kylie let out a soft sigh as glass clinked in the next room. With all the prep work her mother had done over the past couple weeks, who knew what secret fruitcake she might ignite and wheel in. Next to the giant pine tree and the roaring bonfire. Where had that fire extinguisher gone to?

A couple minutes later, the middle-aged otter sailed back in with a tray of creamy drinks.

Her daughter's ears popped up through her hair. "What's that?"

"Eggnog." She handed her daughter a glass. "Served in the best crystal that I didn't sell--and fortified by rum."

He sniffed the drink. "Um, Laura, you put rum in ours too."

The former TV producer gave him a weary look. "Drink the damn eggnog, Max."

He drank the eggnog. His triangular ears cycled through a few different settings as he sipped. His expression struggled to remain the same, though his electric blue eyes widened.

Cradling the geometric glass in both paws, Kylie stuck her tongue in the liquid. Beneath the nutmeg, the burn of rum was quickly quenched by sweet cream. Not bad.

"Well, Max, if we're only going to only have one extra person in the house..." Kylie's mom raised her glass to him. "...I'm glad it's you."

The hulking canine smiled shyly and tinked his glass to hers. "Thanks for making me feel at home, even before Turkeyzilla."

"We've been trying to make the old place feel homey." Laura took another sip, then wiped the nog from her whiskers.

Kylie tapped her beverage to the other two. "And we are, one dusty room at a time."

Over the lipstick-blurred rim of her glass, she looked at the younger lutrine. "High praise from my surly child."

"Must be the spiked nog." The slimmer otter poured another gulp into her mouth. "Shameful, all this underage drinking."

Snow piled up outside. Steam radiators gurgled and gargled. The fireplace crackled and flickered. The drinks vanished, leaving a warm glow of camaraderie. Their appetites made a small dent in the feast on the table.

"What were the old dinners like?" Kylie nibbled asparagus one stalk at a time, happy the informal setting allowed her to just pick them up with her fingers. For a plant, they were oddly fish-like in crunch, if cooked right. "Before you left to make it big?"

"Magnificent." Her mother her fork in salute to absent company. "The whole place was packed with laughter and stories. Some of them were even true." A spark of nostalgia entered her voice as she watched the ghosts of holidays past. "Every otter with even the faintest connection to the Bevy line could show up and most of them did."

Max contemplated the nutmeg floating on his second eggnog. His brow furrowed in a way that Kylie had learned spoke of a thought percolating. "Laura, you sold some stuff inside Bourn Manor..." He shifted his gaze to her mom, using his extra-polite voice. "...but the real money was always in the house and land."

"Mmhm." Laura swirled hers around, as if pondering how much more rum she could fit.

"You never considered selling it?" The dog cleared his throat. "Not that I don't appreciate it."

"Never when I had work, and never earlier than one in the morning." The plump otter looked out the window with a wry grin, watching the snowfall and lack of headlights in the driveway.

"Why?" The question hung in the tinseled air for an uncomfortable length of time.

Sitting back in the easy chair, she shook her head. "It was always my emergency fallback. A few times, I was a month's rent away from slinking back here. I never had to, but having that option made me confident."

Nodding, the husky's voice remained soft, though it gained a hint of the playful banter the used when he and Laura brainstormed. "You could've rented it out."

Peering down through her glasses, she chased a stray clump of sweet potato around her plate with a fork. "It never felt right, someone else living here. We TV producers are well known for our mawkish sentimentality."

He coughed a laugh through his drink.

The older otter looked up with amusement. "It's true, though. I have good memories of this house. I want more of those." She smiled at her daughter. "I want to fix the place. Make new memories."

"Mom, you old sap." She flashed a smirk to her mother.

Laura stretched and oozed off the sofa. "Ugh! All this revelry has tired me out. And this eggnog has clearly written me into a holiday special." She waddled over and hugged both of them. "I'm going to bed."

Kylie watched her mother head up the stairs, then listened as her footsteps receded into the master bedroom. The dog beside her watched the fire crackle and the snow fall in patient peace. Curled up with Max, minutes passed a breath at a time, as the creak of the floorboards moved to the bathroom and eventually back to the bed.

Time to set her scheme into motion. She wriggled to her feet.

Max's ears rose with her, lifting a question into the air with the softest whine.

"Stay there, Maxie." She flowed out of the room with barely a backward glance. "I'm just getting another present for you."

His tail thumped on the cushions as she scampered back to her room.

~ ~ ~

Max took in the picturesque scene before him: snowfall, a low fire, and more pine tree than the room was designed to accommodate. The room was dark, lit only by firelight and little white LEDs. It looked like a postcard. Sure, it wasn't his family home, but it was rapidly becoming a home to him. He found himself smiling at the idea.

An excited chirr drew his attention toward the stairs. His otter girlfriend crossed the landing and stretched a paw up the doorframe, clad in a bathrobe. And only a bathrobe, if her bare thighs were to be believed. She watched him with a sensual chirr. "Hello, Maxie."

He blinked, brain trying to catch up to her appearing "Hi."

She padded into the living room, got some wrapping paper stuck to her foot, kicked it free with a offended chitter, and crawled into his lap. Her arms slipped over his shoulders to play with his scruff. "I'm really glad you're here."

His eyes darted down to her cleavage. "Yeah, me too."

She leaned in and kissed him. Then, biting her lower lip, she lifted his paws to the ends of the the robe belt.

Playing along, he double-checked that Laura hadn't suddenly appeared downstairs, then pulled loose the bow. He'd assumed Kylie would be naked under the robe, but it fell away to reveal silky undergarments: diaphanous white with threads that sparkled like new-fallen snow. The garment hung like a curtain of mist, secured to her breasts by a single ribbon bow. A matched pair of panties glimmered from under it, again secured only by a shimmering ribbon atop her tail. His ears sprung up in surprise. The blush under his fur felt hotter, somehow, than if she's just been nude.

Giggling scandalously, the otter bounced off his lap and did a little twirl in the firelight. She wiggled and babbled: "I thought the shiny satin was a bit much, but in the firelight it looks pretty good. The great thing about lingerie is it'll last forever, since you only wear it for a few minutes before it comes off. Unless, ya know, it works so well your husky boyfriend uses his teeth. But don't use your teeth, even though that would be kinda hot. Anyway, what'd ya think, Max?"

Standing, he took her by the paw and drew her into a slow kiss. He pulled her against him as they made out. His tongue slipped into her muzzle to trace those pointy lutrine teeth and her supple lips. Even as he leaned down over her, she edged him back to the sofa until he sat down with a muffled bounce of springs.

She squirmed with joy along his body. Her curvy form flowed between his knees as she ran her paw down his chest. "Now lemme unwrap my present..." Her grabby brown otter paws quickly shucked him of his shirt. Delicate claws scratched under his chin as her other palm pressed atop his crotch.

"Out in the living room?" His ears flattened shyly. "Won't your mom hear?"

"She was snoring in bed by the time I came outta my room." Kneeling between his legs, she nuzzled the crotch of his pants. "Some people can't hold their egg nog."

Even more pink reached his ears. "Kylie..."

"Shush..." Her eager fingers seized on his fly. "You unwrapped your present; now it's my turn." Her paws undid his fly and dragged down his boxers. With an eager chitter, she leaned down and kissed deeply into his sheath. As he hardened on her tongue, she played with his balls, then pulled back to admire her work.

The canine panted, his dick in his girlfriend's paws. With a grunt, a fresh bead of precum rolled down from his tip.

She lapped it up. With a hot breath, her round muzzle eased down his length. A full second her looking up at him with satisfaction coaxed an unexpected pulse of precum onto her tongue. She sucked and slurped. Slowly, she explored every delightful sensation she could evoke in him. Through the pleasure, he noticed her hips bounce on her other paw. After several lovely minutes, reluctantly, she pulled off, working her tired jaw.

Smiling, he cupped her cheek ruff and admired how sexy she looked beside his wet erection.

She nuzzled into his touch, then pressed him to the soft fur of her other cheek. "I do really like your dick, Maxie."

He whimpered at her words. "Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm." Pumped with her paws, stroked her finger webbing over his canine bulge. "Might be a size too big."

A pulse of arousal hardened him further. Leaning in, he pressed his muzzle to her ear and growled: "Let's make sure it fits."

With a giggle, the otter oozed straight to the floor. One webbed paw pulled her panties aside, while the other spread her entrance. The naughty gleam in her eye shone brighter than anything else in the room.

The canine prowled down atop her and between her waiting thighs. Her soft outfit, almost as lovely under his paws as her newly-grown pelt. Already fully hard, he found her wet and eager. Her hips twisted and humped up his length.

That powerful tail propelled her up against him. Her toes caught on his waistband to pull his pants and boxers down. Knuckles to her mouth, she snickered at his gasp.

He shuffled out of his garments, then stalked atop her. His paws gripped her dainty shoulders as he worked his girth into her. He did everything possible to increase the frequency of those happy squeaks. The growl in his throat gave him pause with how predatory it sounded. A few strokes later, though, he was back up to full speed.

With no mattress to absorb the impact, his every thrust squeezed a squeak from her. Half-lit by colorful lights and the fireplace, her head rocked back and forth in pleasure.

The dog whined, banging his hips down onto hers. An exotic flourish of sensation, the silken panties brushed against one side of his length as he worked it in and out of her. With a sudden urgency, he bounced his knot against her sopping folds. A squelch, and he was inside. Breath caught in his throat. A twitch started in his balls and squirted up his length with a rush of ecstasy.

His lover squirmed with pleasure, her tail curling between their legs. Webbed paws traced his body, urging him on with eager grips at his fur. As his passion emptied into her with a spreading warmth, she chirred with unabashed delight.

Atop her, he slowly regained his breath. He slipped free the bow at the front of her lingerie, exposing her cleavage. He lapped at her nipples in turn, cupping her modest breasts.

She squirmed on his knot. "Mmmmmmm. Maxie, that feels nice..."

Still breathing hard, he reached down and massaged her clit against the swell of his buried cock. The faint squish of his cum seeped around his length, making her slick passage all the slicker. His fingertips worked in gentle circles, faster and faster, until she was a whimpering wiggle of happiness under him.

"Mmf! Yeah!" Her hips bounced up to his as much as the tie allowed. "Like that! Mmmmmf!" With a trembled surge of strength, she clutched to him, her passage gripping his sensitive cock.

Having been focused on his labors, Max yipped softly in surprise as his dick slipped free. A glance between them showed his pink length swaying, half sheathed and dripping. He sat up to see his climax seeping out of her, white as the snow falling outside the window. After a moment's appreciation, he gathered their clothes and lifted her in his arms.

"Mmmmm." She snuggled against his chest. "Where're we goin', Maxie?"

"I'm carrying you to bed, rudderbutt." His cock cooling in the scandalous air, the husky made his best efforts to reach his bedroom before he dripped on the carpet. He did take the time to press his lips to her hair and whisper: "To tie you again before you pass out."

His lover squeaked, wiggled, and ruffled her muzzle into the fluff of his throat. Wet passion trailed down the waterproof fur at the base of her tail. It seeped into the fur at the crook of his arm, igniting a blush under his cheek fluff.

Slipping through the door, he padded across the darkened room to lay her on the bed. He lay beside her. As his paws drifted over her, he noticed a bow, just like the one over her cleavage, atop the tail of the garment. Tucked warm in bed, visions of unwrapping more presents tomorrow danced through the husky's head. Eager paws untied it, leaving him to remark how easily her panties pulled free. He really wanted to see her come again. Even though he'd just come, another option occurred to him. Fumbling at the nightstand, he obtained a silicone sex toy from the top drawer. The slightly-squishy phallus emitted a faint glow, just enough to light his paw. Its respectable knot gleamed along its shapely length. Maybe someday, he'd let her use a toy on him. Maybe. But for the moment, he spread her legs and teased the tip of the toy along her sopping slit.

The otter chittered agreeably. The bed creaked under her. Her bared chest rose and fell. Her round little muzzle beckoned for a kiss and he decided it wouldn't be the holiday spirit to be stingy. Her lips pressed warm and soft against his.

Pressing in softly, he marveled at how easily she could accommodate the dildo. Even the knot only hesitated a moment before gliding inside, lubricated by their passion. Then again, she'd had another knot in her just moments ago. He blushed under his pelt at the thought. His dick poked valiantly from its sheath.

All four lutrine paws gripped the sheets as he worked the toy in and out of her. Lewd sounds filled the air, a far older and more primal tune for chasing off the midwinter blues. Her tail swished along the smooth fabric. In and out the dildo pressed, leaving the otter wiggling for more. Eventually, she grabbed his hands and pressed it urgently to her entrance. Her body stiffened, forcing a gasp from her. As Max wiggled toy's knot deep inside her, just like she'd mentioned in all those naughty texts. The little extra effort made her head rock in redoubled pleasure. "Mmmmmm!"

He nuzzled in against the side of her neck and listened as her breathing caught up in the quiet darkness. For a minute or so, he left the knot in her. She'd told him how much she enjoyed the fullness. Only when he felt the increasing need to cuddle her half-naked form did he draw it free and return it to the nightstand, quite sticky. Curling up with his lover on the cold December night, he felt his retreating erection slide against the satin-smooth nightie.

"Mmmm, but Maxie..." She whimpered against his neck fluff, half asleep. "I wanna do it again."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Later, rudderbutt." He wrapped careful arms around her, not wanting to give her a crick in the neck. "I'm not going anywhere."

Mollified, she muttered contentment and settled into slumber against him.

Fading fast, he held her against him and enjoyed the afterglow. His breathing steadied as sleep settled over him. Good food, good cheer, good sex: a really excellent day, truth be told. And if he happened to wake up with an otter and an erection, the festivities might just continue. His chin settled atop the otter's head. Her scent teased his nose, soft and welcoming. He sighed. It might not be the homestead, but curling up with Kylie always felt like home.

~ ~ ~

You can't spell Xmas without Max!

This comes a bit late, but Slate and I wanted it all to be top-notch before we posted it.

Edits: Slate, Eljot001, Carlminez, SillyNeko345

Art: Slate

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