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Christmas in Mechanicsburg

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Christmas in Mechanicsburg


This was Agatha’s first Christmas in Mechanicsburg, and the town had gone all out, determined to celebrate the restored Pax Europa and give their Heterodyne a good show. Yet surprisingly, it wasn’t also a show for the tourists: at Christmas, Mechanicsburg reasserted its insular nature. The rituals and rites of Christmas were for locals only, for reasons Agatha had been told she would soon understand.

And now it was Christmas Eve, and Agatha was headed to church. Tarvek and Gil were walking behind her, as Zeetha had eagerly grabbed her arm as they set out. “It’ll be interesting to see how things are different here,” Zeetha commented. “I bet Mechanicsburg is really unusual.”

“How much do you know about Mass?” Agatha asked. “You’ve never come with me when I’ve gone in the past, and you weren’t too interested in any of the Corbettite services…”

“Oh, I have approximate knowledge of your standard Christian stuff, but I’ve done some very in-depth bible study, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows, smirking widely.

“Do I even want to know how you know this?” This time it was Gil asking, sounding genuinely curious but a little skeptical. “Father never went in much for religion, beyond the standard high holy days.”

“Well, I have a very thorough knowledge of the Song of Solomon,” Zeetha laughed. “And of the inner workings of certain nunneries...and certain nuns. You know how it is - all shut up in those cloisters, nothing to do during the winter - the sisters are always welcoming to traveling players, and when I mentioned that I myself am a devotee of my own goddess, there was usually at least one nun who was interested in comparative theology. Sometimes I even got a convert or two!”

“You seduced nuns?” This time it was Tarvek’s turn to look shocked.


“I made a habit of it,” Zeetha joked, to the groans of those around her. “Master Payne made me stop after we got chased out of Bois de Benette. The Mother Superior of Our Lady of the Immaculate Right Cross got a bit peeved that some of the fighting techniques I showed to the novices turned into...other techniques.”

“You seduced ladies of one of the Orders Militant?”

“Eeeeyup.” Zeetha beamed. “And then we got run out of town and had to crash in the pasture of a rather belligerent goat farmer and then it turns out the nun that ran off with us was the daughter of the mayor and...well, if we ever go back there, I’ll need to wear a wig. And maybe extra armor..”

“And it also explains why Sister Maria Teresa glares daggers at you every time she sees you.”

“Which is why I will be staying far away from her! It was one of her nieces I seduced, actually. Worth it though! Lovely girl - I think she does burlesque in Vienna now. Anyway, a few nights later we wound up at Castle Anthrax, and what a welcome we got there! Very distinctive beacon - easy to find in the snow...and very eager to warm up visitors!”

“So that’s why the nuns there got excommunicated…..”

“Hey, as far as things to have been arrested for, “inciting a nunnery to riot” is a good one! And anyway, it wasn’t a riot, it was an orgy. The riot came when we ran out of lubricant.”

Gil shook his head, putting his face in his hands. “Why did I even ask?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you did!” She ruffled his hair, making him look even more like a surprised dandelion.

“And we’re at the church now, thank God,” Agatha said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Amen,” Gil and Tarvek intoned. Gil even crossed himself, which prompted an elbow and a glare from Tarvek. Gil stuck out his tongue in response, and each man took one of Agatha’s arms as they entered the cathedral, Zeetha following behind and trying to dodge the glare of the aforementioned Sister Maria Theresa, who was solid muscle and carried a sword taller than she was.

“Ahh, Lady Heterodyne! How good to see you and your consorts!” Doctor Yglyn was first to greet her, shaking her hand animatedly. “Miss Violetta is already here - she made sure we blocked off the first row for you and your companions.” Sure enough, Violetta was already sitting in the front row, Vanamonde at her side. They waved upon seeing Agatha, then returned to whatever discussion they had been having. “And here comes the bishop!”

Once Agatha had formally claimed Mechanicsburg, the fact that its cathedral lacked a bishop became a very pressing issues to all seven popes. Historically, the Heterodyne was under the jurisdiction of all popes, or whichever pope they chose to listen to, and thus, a minor ecclesiastical turf war ensued, with each pope arguing that they had the right to appoint the new bishop of Mechanicsburg, and thus potentially have the ear of the new Lady Heterodyne. After seeing how the Lady Heterodyne had dealt with prior papal attempts to influence her, it was suggested that each pope send their own representative and that she choose which one she favored. Surprisingly, all seven agreed.

The Pope of the Tsars, the Ottoman Pope, and the Sicilian Pope all sent experienced courtiers, which were rejected universally. Bishop Andrieu de la Foudre, the Avignon candidate, attempted to use his kinship with Prince Tarvek to his advantage, which ended in a massive row of the sort usually seen at family reunions, and with his expulsion from Mechanicsburg (via cannon). After that, the rest of the courtiers decided to leave as well, leaving only the candidates sent by the Pope of Belfast and the Pope of the Mountains. In the end, the Irish delegation proved to be the most successful: Pope Francis had sent Bishop Nicolae Drăgan, a former Jesuit like himself, and a man who still had family near Mechanicsburg. His strong, sturdy nature and familiarity with local ritual were comforting to Agatha, and she found the new bishop to be pleasant company.

“Lady Heterodyne! Crăciun fericit!” he cried out, enveloping her in a bear hug so massive her ribs creaked slightly. You could tell he had Jagers for ancestors - he hugged just as enthusiastically and was built more or less along the same strong lines as his raider relatives. “Merry Christmas! Welcome to Christmas Eve mass! And to you, Prince Gilgamesh and Prince Tarvek! So splendid you all look! Please take your seats, we’ll begin soon.” He turned to Zeetha, giving a polite bow. “I trust you know how to follow the services, Princess? If not, just mimic what everyone else is doing, half the people in town are rusty on their rituals anyway.” He winked, and turned off, his elaborate robes billowing behind him, the golden dragonscale mail glittering over plush red velvet.

Agatha took her seat between Gil and Tarvek, and was surprised to see Ruxala de Belette and Sanaa Tryggvassen walk over to sit beside Zeetha. She knew that Sanaa was in town - unlike her brother, Sanaa Tryggvassen was a welcome sight in town, mostly because she was more interested in spending time with Zeetha and Ruxala than causing trouble, but she hadn’t expected Sanaa to come to church. Well, Agatha was sitting between her lovers, so she couldn’t begrudge Zeetha the same thing, especially since it was fun to watch Sanaa’s eyes go wide as she took in the details of some of the murals on the walls.

The Mass began with the cathedral’s magnificent pipe organ playing a booming rendition of “Adeste Fideles” in a minor key, and the assembled citizens of Mechanicsburg rose and sang along dutifully, managing to hit most of the notes more or less on-key, or at least trying hard in hopes that enthusiasm could make up for talent. The Mass then proceeded onward in terms of what Agatha thought of as “standard Christmas fare”, more or less.

Mysterious hooded figures in holly-trimmed robes read the traditional Gospel passages as the children of Mechanicsburg were herded onstage to perform the Christmas pageant: the younger children as sheep or angels, clean dishtowels and bathrobes repurposed as costumes for the teenagers cast as shepherds and wise men, and Mrs. Petrescu’s three-month-old as the baby Jesus. Some young Spark had created halos that actually glowed, and any accidental fires were quickly put out, albeit with the occasional muffled curse.

Maxinia glowered onstage in the angel costume Lilith had so lovingly made for her, occasionally waving her toy sword, and when it was time for the “angels” to perform “Go Tell It On The Mountain,” she elected to shout her verse rather than sing it, much to the amusement of her parents and the facepalming of the choir director. The rest of the pageant went off more or less without a hitch, until the three teenagers playing the Three Wise Men decided to go off-book and sing a rather rude version instead. The Jagers in the audience cheered, and Zeetha sniggered loudly. Agatha suspected those boys would get an earful from their parents, but laughed anyways.

The children filed off the stage to the strains of “O, ce veste minunată” as the bishop took his place at the altar. The congregation rose to sing a version of “In The Bleak Midwinter”, albeit with lyrics slightly different from the ones she was used to. As far as she could remember, the hymnal at St. Giles’s in Beetleburg hadn’t included a verse about blood sacrifice, but the Mechanicsburg one certainly did.

“And so with the birth of Jesus, we celebrate the new year in the Church. And with the new year, we celebrate that he grew to die for our sins, the greatest sacrifice of all, with a sacrifice of our own.”

At this, four of the strongest teenagers in Mechanicsburg entered, two girls and two boys. They were clad in loose robes, their hair tousled and bloodstains spattering their skin, and brought with them a giant wild boar, its legs tied to two poles made from what appeared to be former tree trunks. The boar itself was tied with garlands of herbs, and as the procession entered, they began to chant.

“The boar’s head in hand we bring, bedecked with bays and rosemary. We pray, Lord Jesus, welcome be, and that you join us in this feast. Apros offerimus. Reddens laudes Domino.”

“Reddens laudes Domino,” the bishop proclaimed. “We give praises to the Lord! We thank Him for His sacrifice and welcome it with one of our own - a wild boar, caught this night without weapons save for the strength and skill of body and mind, by four of our finest. With this, we remember our origin as the Lord made us - naked in body, with only our wits and strength and His Grace to help us survive. May the offering we make be acceptable to Him, and may we be blessed!” The congregation cheered, and he continued. “And now, let us chant the traditional ritual. Remember, the curate and I will take the stanzas; you need only chant along with the refrain.”

Agatha turned to the appropriate page in the hymnal, as the bishop intoned “The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown, of all the trees within the wood, the holly bears the crown.” He draped a garland of holly and ivy around the neck of the boar, and the congregation replied.

“Oh, the rising of the sun and the running of the deer, the belling of the Jager hordes, foes screaming in the fields.” Agatha blinked. This time she was fairly certain these weren’t the traditional lyrics. She heard hesitancy in Gil and Tarvek’s voices as well.

“The holly bears a blossom as white as lily’s flower, and Mary bore Lord Jesus Christ to be our true savior,” the bishop continued, taking the ceremonial longsword from Doctor Ygln and blessing it with Holy Water. The congregation replied, and he took the sword in hand, chanting. “The holly bears a prickle as sharp as any thorn, and Mary bore Lord Jesus Christ that sacred Christmas morn.” Once again, the congregation replied, and the youths moved the boar closer to the altar. Doctor Yglyn took a large, elaborate red and gold chalice and held it at the ready.

“The holly bears a berry as read as our Lord’s blood, and Mary bore Lord Jesus Christ to do poor sinners good.” The bishop swung the sword, neatly severing the boar’s jugular, blood spurting into the chalice. The congregation replied as the youths maneuvered the boar, letting the blood continue to drain.

“The holly bears a bark as bitter as any gall, and Mary bore Lord Jesus Christ for to redeem us all. Amen.” The bishop finished, and the youths and the curate continued to collect the blood as the choir launched into a chilling minor key rendition of the Carol of the Bells. “I always thought this song was creepy,” Gil muttered, and Agatha nodded in reply. Then again, the traditional hooded robes of the choir tended to add a layer of creepiness to any song, but this was Mechanicsburg after all - creepy was downright commonplace.

As the last of the blood drained into the chalice, the bishop took it and lifted it up. “This is our offering to you, o Lord. May you accept this sacrifice of blood, and may it sustain you throughout this new year, as your sacrifice saves and sustains us.”

When Communion began, Agatha felt herself back on familiar ground, and the service continued more or less as normal. With one final chorus of “Joy to the World,” the congregants spilled out of the cathedral and into the streets, wishing each other a merry Christmas. As the Heterodyne, it seemed like everyone in town wanted to tell her they hoped she had a very merry Christmas indeed, often with a knowing look at her two consorts. She appreciated it, and wished them all a merry Christmas right back. It felt right here in Mechanicsburg, with snow slowly falling in the lamplight, her lovers at her side. This was her place, her home, and having a place to belong was a powerful thing, and something she hadn’t realized she’d been searching for until she’d found it.

It was in the midst of this surge of civic pride and the strong urge to hug the whole town that Mamma Gkika strolled up. “Merry Christmas, sveethots!” She gathered the three of them into a hug so intense their ribs creaked before setting them back down on the cobblestones.

“Zo, vhere hyu headed after dis, dollinks? Beck to der Kestle?” Mamma asked, grinning.

“Yes, actually,” Agatha replied, determined not to blush at the thought of what exactly she had planned.

“Vell, hyu haff fun, den! Iz a goot night for….celebrating. Und if Hyu vants some ov der special eggnog, hyu chust send down for zum. Der princess has already ordered a barrel of it - iz no trouble to send more.”

“Whatever’s in that stuff, it’s amazing.” Zeetha commented as she walked over, Sanaa and Ruxala at her side. “And Sanaa managed to get her hands on some cloudberry brandy to add to it.”

“That’s how we always made it at home,” Sanaa explained. “Except for the year Great-Uncle Vilmar made it with his homemade salmon akvavit.”

Agatha shuddered. “Ech.”

“Yeah, even the dogs wouldn’t touch it.” Sanaa grinned. “This stuff is going to be much better - thanks, Mamma.”

“Hyu haff fun! See hyu at de next bar fight, jah?” Mamma headed off to join General Krizhan, who was waiting for her on the other side of the square.

“I’m so glad you let me have the seraglio as the Skiffandrian embassy, by the way.” Zeetha slung an arm around Agatha’s shoulders and hugged. “Best zumil ever!”

Agatha had indeed wondered a bit what exactly to do with the seraglio, until Zeetha had taken a good look at it and called “dibs!” It had worked out well - Agatha’s bedroom and some of the labs were all she needed in terms of the locations for assignations department, and the Skiffandrian embassy had quickly become known for throwing some of the wildest parties in Europa.

“We’re going to stop by the weasel kennels first and give them their presents,” Ruxala interjected. “We’re just waiting on the boys.”

“Yah, ve knitted all ov dem leedle sveaters vit der names on dem! Ve gots dem, dun vorry!” Dimo and Maxim sauntered over, Dimo hefting a messenger bag over one shoulder. Dimo looked as he ever did, whereas Maxim had affixed generous amount of mistletoe to his hat and belt, and was wearing even tighter leather pants than usual, which Agatha hadn’t even considered possible.

“Hyu should see vhere else I have some,” he leered at Zeetha, before yelping. His head whipped around, glaring at Sanaa, who shrugged.

“You wear pants that tight, you can’t expect me not to grab,” she pointed out.

“Vell yah, but giff me a chance to enjoy it! Dun try to be all schneaky like! Take hyu time when hyu grab! Savor it!”

“Ladies, gentlemen, there will be plenty of time for assgrabbery later.” Zeetha waved at Agatha as she herded her lovers away from the Cathedral and towards the Weaselry. “Have fun tonight! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“That’s a very short list!” Agatha called back, laughing as she, Gil, and Tarvek slowly made their way back to the Castle.


“When you were little, did you ever get to do the whole ‘you get to unwrap one present on Christmas Eve’ thing?” Agatha asked as they neared the bedroom.

“Von Pinn made sure no one even got close to the tree until Saint Nicolas had a chance to visit. She was very strict.”

Tarvek nodded. “And we never really did much for Christmas Eve, either. Why?”

“Because tonight you two get to unwrap a present.” She was trying not to blush, but this time it wasn’t working.

Gil grinned. “Ooooh? And what sort of a present would that be?”

She opened the door to the bedroom. “Me.”

Tarvek and Gil eagerly followed her into the bedroom, Gil slamming the door shut behind them in excitement. “And how exactly do you want us to go about this unwrapping?” he asked, toying with the laces of her dress.

“Well for starters, Tarvek, why don’t you help me get these boots off?” Tarvek knelt before her, his fingers quickly unbuttoning her boots while Gil unfastened her dress. Soon enough, she was standing before them in a new corset with matching panties - both of them trimmed with mistletoe made of velvet and pearl.

“Oh my,” Tarvek moaned. “What would you ask of us, Mistress?”

“Isn’t kissing under the mistletoe a tradition?” She asked. They usually didn’t mind when she took charge of things, and tonight she had a special surprise planned. The corset was just the first part of it, though keeping it a secret had been difficult.

“As you command,” Tarvek purred, moving behind her to kiss and caress her, his hands slowly sliding towards the laces of her corset. Gil beat him to the punch, burying his face in Agatha’s breasts and covering them with kisses as he attempted to swat Tarvek’s hands away.

“Give me a moment!” he said, his voice rather muffled. “I’m enjoying myself!”

Agatha snorted, rolling her eyes a bit. “I do have two breasts, you know.” She moved Gil’s hands down to her hips. “You can keep that up while he unlaces my corset.”

Gil kept his face buried between her breasts, licking and sucking and nipping, pausing momentarily to give a thumb’s up.

“Barbarian oaf,” Tarvek muttered, his mouth finding the place where neck met collarbone and gently kissing it as he undid her corset laces. Soon the corset was flung onto the dressing table, and she led Gil and Tarvek to the bed, sitting down on the edge. Gil began to nuzzle one breast, licking and sucking just as eagerly as before. Tarvek took a much more teasing approach, his tongue tracing spirals along her breast, approaching the nipple before spiraling out again, over and over until at last he began to flick his tongue against her nipple. Agatha moaned at the sensation - Gil was exuberant, while Tarvek displayed much more finesse, and when combined, it was magnificent.

She indulged in the feeling for a while, before gently tugging on Tarvek’s hair. “I think you should put that tongue of yours to better use,” she commanded, gently guiding him off the bed. “On your knees.” Her voice was already a bit in the Madness Place, and had just a touch of authority, two things she knew would make him eager to obey. She settled more firmly on the edge of the bed, Tarvek kneeling between her legs, the mistletoe decorations on her underwear shining in the soft lamplight. He pressed a kiss against the soft fabric, just enough to tease, before sliding the panties off of her. Agatha’s hand entwined in his hair, pressing him closer. She knew he liked it when she tugged on his hair a bit, especially when she was ordering him around, and after the first few times he had asked her to, she’d discovered she really enjoyed it. It had taken her a while to feel comfortable acting authoritative in the bedroom, but the awkwardness had faded with the encouragement of Tarvek and Gil, and now she eagerly slipped into the role.

Tarvek’s tongue gently slid along her labia, circling her clit once, teasingly, before moving away to tease her some more. One hand braced on her thigh, the other moved towards his own crotch, his erection straining against the tight velvet of his breeches. She tugged on his hair harder this time. “Not yet,” she commanded. “My turn first.”

“Yes, mistress,” he muttered against her, renewing his teasing ministrations, the movements of his tongue intensifying as his free hand moved instead to stroke her. Agatha relaxed, letting herself get lost in the sensations: Gil’s mouth and hands were lavishing eager attention on her breasts as Tarvek’s hands and mouth eagerly explored her cunt. She began to rock her hips against Tarvek, pressing him harder against her. He responded with equal fervor, and she felt herself getting closer and closer until she climaxed, gasping hard as she braced herself against the sheets.

“That was wonderful,” she purred, pulling Tarvek up to the bed once more. She leaned in to kiss him, enjoying the taste of herself on his lips. When they broke for air, she shifted so she could kiss Gil just as intensely.

“I have another present to give you two tonight,” she said, standing up and beginning to search in her dresser. “Perhaps you two should help each other undress while I look for it?”

Gil didn’t need to be told twice. He tackled Tarvek to the bed, kissing him fiercely as he began to unbutton the redhead’s waistcoat and shirt. Tarvek responded in kind, albeit with a bit more care for the state of Gil’s clothing, the two men rolling around on the bed as they wrestled for control and to undress each other the fastest. When at last they were undressed and reclining on the bed, they turned to see Agatha, now clad in only a leathery harness around her hips. She was holding something long and curved in one hand, and grinning wickedly.

“Remember when Zeetha, Violetta, and I went to Paris? Well while we were there, Colette Voltaire showed us this absolutely marvelous shop off the Rue de la Divan.” She saw Gil and Tarvek blush, and grinned. “I take it you know the one I mean?” she teased. “Well, they had some very interesting bits of Sparkwork there. Like this.” She pulled the harness to the side a bit as she slid one end of the device inside her, letting the other end slide through a ring at the front of the harness before shifting in place a bit. “There’s even a little mechanism inside that makes it vibrate if I press this button. And I’m going to have a lot of fun with it tonight, I think.” She walked over to Gil, very firmly into the ‘big bad Heterodyne’ role as she grabbed his ass, making him squeak a bit in surprise. She laughed.

“I’ve been waiting to try it out,” she continued, reaching for a condom and some lubricant. “Gil, how would you like to be my first test subject?” She rolled the condom down over the dildo as she eyed Gil appreciatively. “I fuck you with this, nice and hard, while Tarvek sucks you off?” Gil moaned, and she grinned. “Tarvek, what do you think?”

“I’d be more than happy to help you with your experiment, Mistress,” he purred, taking the lubricant from her and slicking down the strap-on. He leaned in to kiss her, stroking the strap-on as he deepened the kiss. Agatha could feel the movements of his hand shift the dildo inside her, rubbing the exterior portion against her clit a bit as it did so. If this was what it felt like just from being stroked, fucking Gil would be amazing.

“That’s enough,” she warned. “I want to try this out properly. Gil, why don’t you take the lubricant and prepare yourself?”

“Yes, Lady Heterodyne,” the men chorused, Tarvek resting a hand on the strap-on and trailing kisses down her neck, lightly teasing, as Gil lubricated himself and stretched himself a bit. Soon, all three of them were ready to go.

Gil knelt on the bed as Tarvek moved to lie in front of him, propping himself up on one elbow. Agatha knelt behind Gil, the tip of the strap-on gently pressing against him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Ready?”


“Be vocal, okay? I want to make sure I’m doing this right.”

“Of course.” He moaned as Tarvek took Gil’s cock into his mouth, and Agatha gently started to slide in. It felt unusual, being on this end of the action, but as she began to rock against him, the motion translated to the part of the dildo inside her, as well as the part situated against her clit. She focused on finding a rhythm, pressing in as Tarvek drew back, rocking back as Tarvek took Gil in deeper. From the way Gil and Tarvek were both moaning, it was clearly working.

“I’m going to turn on the vibrations now, all right?”

“Yes! Yes, please,” Gil panted. Agatha hit the switch, and was rewarded with a long moan from Gil. “Harder!”

Agatha eagerly complied, putting her hands on his hips for better leverage. The vibrations and the motion were combining into a dizzying flurry of sensation, and she wanted to make the most of it. She nipped at Gil’s neck the way she knew he liked, and was rewarded with a harsh gasp of pleasure. She did it again, this time as she thrust deep inside, and he pushed back against her, urging her on. She knew he liked to be treated roughly during sex - he was often up for a lot more “torture” than Tarvek, and his reactions were egging her on even more.

Soon she was thrusting hard into him, nipping and sucking along his neck, hard enough to leave bruises on anyone who wasn’t as over-engineered as Gil. She felt herself getting closer and closer to climax as the intensity of the vibrations and the rhythm the three of them were creating finally sent her over the edge, gasping against Gil’s neck. She knew he was close to climax from the way his heart raced under his skin and the way he was panting. Continuing to thrust, she sucked at the point where his neck and shoulder met, before biting hard enough she almost broke the skin. Gil came with a loud yell, his muscles tensing all at once and then relaxing, before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“That was….that was amazing…” he said, panting and giggling as he came down from the post-orgasmic rush.

“I know - with the vibrations and the thrusting and you...both of you….” Agatha sighed happily, barely more coherent than Gil. She waited until the jelly-legged feeling wore off, and then got up off the bed, throwing away the condom and cleaning any bits of stray lubricant off the harness as she took it off, stowing it and the strap-on atop the dresser. When she returned to bed, Gil and Tarvek were already snuggled up together, hands slowly roaming over each other. Agatha joined in on the other side of Tarvek, the three of them just reveling in the feel of skin on skin, and of how nice it was to be cozy and warm in bed together.

Eventually, snuggling turned to caressing, and caressing to more intense caressing. Agatha pressed herself against Tarvek, one hand sliding down to stroke his cock. “You’ve been amazing tonight. Let us do something for you?”

“What were you thinking?”

“You in the middle, with you inside me and Gil inside you? I know you like that.”

“Mhmmm. That would be nice.”

Gil rolled over to grab the lubricant and another condom, readying himself. “Can I prepare you?” Tarvek nodded, and Gil began to gently work him open, moving slowly and carefully.

Agatha was still slick from her earlier orgasm, so Tarvek slid in quite easily, and she began to rock against him, taking her time. When Gil slid inside Tarvek, the two of them were more or less spooned against him, slowly rocking back and forth. This was slower and gentler than earlier, and Agatha felt Tarvek relax against them, letting them set the pace. She gently kissed him as he thrust into her, her hips rocking against his. Her fingers twined with Gil’s as they both gripped Tarvek’s hip in a slightly possessive gesture. This was nice - slow and peaceful, just savoring it.

Tarvek began to rock faster against them, pressing himself harder into them, and they quickened their pace to match. Agatha hummed softly against Tarvek’s chest, not quite Heterodyning, but enough so that they found themselves moving even more in synch, getting closer and closer to climax. Tarvek came first, his back arching as he gasped their names. Gil followed soon after, collapsing against Tarvek’s back. Agatha rocked herself against Tarvek, trying for one last bit of friction to send her over the edge, her humming getting louder - and then Tarvek’s hand was pressed against her clit, and he was kissing her neck, and she came, pleasure rushing over her.

They relaxed like that for a moment, letting the last rush of endorphins fade, before getting out of bed to get cleaned up. “Merry Christmas,” she murmured as she lay between them, too spent to do anything but snuggle. She had her town, she had her consorts, and everything was right in the world - for tonight, at least. Tomorrow could wait.