SS Xmas25 Chapter 5

Apple has lots of cousins. The one she never talks about, the one she pretends not to be jealous of, and some more that Elsa can’t be bothered to remember. She just imagines them as a whole lot of Apples, which is a terrifying thought. A Darcy Christmas must be a fucking nightmare.

At least the work is done. Getting into a nice drunken fog and hanging up decorations is what she wants to be doing, not having intrusive thoughts about Ying and Wendy. The sooner they can be done with this, the better.

Apple’s out of town, so Elsa doesn’t even knock.

She opens the door and freezes.

Apple doesn’t freeze; her ears are covered by headphones. Her back is to Elsa. Alone in her bed, wearing panties and a T-shirt, she has a pillow squeezed tightly between her legs, and she humps it in a firm, intentional way.

Elsa doesn’t mean to stop and stare; she’s just that startled. Apple’s not supposed to be here. The music from downstairs can’t quite cover Apple’s deep breathing.

Elsa closes the door gently, and she isn’t sure what shocks her more: Apple’s presence, or how different she seems. There is nothing sexy about her normal dumbass behavior, but this was like seeing a whole different person. It gives Elsa a little tingle. She supposes that she shouldn’t be surprised that there’s a sexual being in there, but how would anyone know? These days, CCL doesn’t even do the Sybian initiation anymore. Before long, it’ll be a convent.

Elsa shakes her head. The only thing sadder than being Apple is thinking that Apple is attractive. Masturbation is a perfectly legitimate thing to do, and doing it when hardly anyone’s around and there’s music playing is more than reasonable. Apple is within her rights.

“Did she not have them?” Ying asks when Elsa returns emptyhanded.

“Uh, no. She’s here. I hope she didn’t miss her flight.”

“I did hear that there are delays.”

Elsa nods, still not thinking clearly. She keeps hearing those little sighs and seeing Apple’s legs squeeze that pillow. Elsa’s never been a pillow person, but suddenly she’s in the mood for it. Ridiculous.

“Uh,” she says, trying to focus. “I’ll, um—I’ll get some from the kitchen.”

“OK. Great.” That’s what Ying says, but she’s puzzled. She’s wondering why Elsa didn’t borrow them from Apple. Elsa doesn’t have the bandwidth to explain.

It’s been kind of a stimulating afternoon, she reflects as she fetches the scissors. First getting up close and personal with Ying’s bits, and even Apple’s pale little butt is cute when it’s doing what it was doing a minute ago. If this is the best she’s getting, CCL definitely isn’t what it used to be. She glances bitterly at the mistletoe as she heads into the kitchen.

Just as she’s about to cut the ribbon, she pauses and looks Ying in the eye. “When are you seeing Wendy?”

“Later tonight.”

“How much later? You can’t go to the bathroom in this. And you can’t really wear clothes over it.”

Ying’s eyes widen. She looks worried. She’s sober and the smart one. She should have thought of this earlier.

“Uhh…” she says uncertainly. “Will you tie it on me again later?”

Elsa would rather drive off a bridge. “Of course.” She tugs the ribbon, and it falls off Ying’s supple body. Elsa does not stare or sigh.

“Thank you,” Ying calls after her.

Elsa shambles downstairs, and the doorbell rings before she can reach the kitchen, and the life-sustaining liquor within. Groaning, she shuffles over and answers it.

Kayla Jameson wears shorts and a hoodie and smells like grease. She’s been working.

“Hey,” she says distractedly, peering past Elsa. “Is my sister here? Riley? Hair like mine? Looks super in shape? Soccer? Stares at everyone’s boobs?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, I know Riley. No. She’s not here,” Elsa replies.

“Damn. She’s twenty-one, and our mom literally needs to put her on Life360.” Kayla sighs and brushes back some bright, red hair. She smiles. “Oh. Mistletoe. CCL. Right.” She laughs, then leans in and kisses Elsa’s cheek. “Sorry to bother you,” she says, heading back toward her car.

Elsa stares until the car is gone. A bumping noise behind her brings her out of her daze and she turns.

Apple is bringing a rolling suitcase down the stairs.

“Hello,” she says happily, rolling across the floor. “My flight got pushed back. How’s your day?”

“I’ve had worse,” Elsa says, moving aside. Apple pulls up and looks outside.

“Uber’s not here yet.” She beams up at Elsa. All she ever does is beam. Her eyes flick upward. “Oh. Mistletoe. That’s exciting.”

Elsa’s not paying attention, so Apple’s kiss takes her completely by surprise. She’s so thrown that three drinks in, she reflexively kisses Apple back. Apple’s body tenses, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her fingertips touch Elsa’s waist hesitantly.

Then tires crunch on gravel. They separate as a black car rolls up the driveway.

Elsa steps back. Apple is much redder than usual. She grabs her suitcase.

“Well,” she says, grabbing her suitcase. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Elsa replies.

Apple waves spiritedly before she climbs into the car. Elsa waves back.

She needs another drink.

[ The End! The next Xmas story starts tomorrow over in FF1 ]