"Ho-ho-*no*, sweetheart, Santa doesn't accept bribes," April chirped through gritted teeth, her plastic smile stretching wider as the fifth kid in ten minutes tried to trade a half-sucked lollipop for an extra candy cane. The mall's glittering tinsel reflected in her blue eyes, the incessant jingle of "Jingle Bell Rock" making her temples throb. A toddler clung to her fishnet-clad thigh, sticky fingers leaving ghostly prints on the green velvet of her micro-mini skirt.
"Elfie, where's Santa's *gun*?" a gap-toothed boy whispered conspiratorially, tugging her bell-trimmed sleeve.
April's pulse spiked, was this a lead or just a kid raised on too much TV? She crouched, her corset digging into her ribs as she lowered her voice. "Santa only brings *joy*, kiddo. Who told you about guns?"
The scent of gingerbread and cheap perfume clung to the air as the boy shrugged. "Dunno. The ninjas by the pretzel place."
Her breath hitched. Ninjas. Pretzel place. *Bingo.* She pressed a candy cane into his palm, her fingers brushing his tiny wrist, cold, like the dread slithering down her spine. "Be *extra* good for Santa," she murmured, already scanning the food court. The crowd parted just enough to reveal a flicker of black fabric vanishing behind a kiosk piled high with suspiciously pristine electronics.
The scratchy lace of her thigh-highs rubbed against her skin as she straightened, the elf boots pinching her toes with every hurried step. A man in a too-thin Santa suit leered at her from his throne, his gaze lingering on the deep plunge of her elf bodice. "Working late, sugarplum?" he slurred. April forced a giggle, adjusting the blonde wig slipping at her temples. "Just spreading *holiday cheer*," she lied, her hips swaying deliberately as she moved past him, toward the pretzel stand, toward the shadows, toward the story that could finally prove she was more than just a pretty face on the evening news.
At the pretzel place, April's heels clicked against the polished tile, her breath shallow as she scanned the empty booth, the scent of burnt dough and salt hanging thick. "Excuse me," she leaned over the counter, her cleavage pressing against the edge, "did you see a group in black robes? Like… really committed reenactors?" The pimpled cashier blinked twice, then snorted. "You mean the guys who paid in *coins*? Yeah, they dipped when security showed up." He licked his lips, eyes darting to her corset's straining laces. "You, uh, need help finding them?" She tossed him a candy cane like tossing a bone to a dog. "Santa's got it covered."
April goes looking through the large mall for those mysterious figures in black robes. She makes sure to hand out candy canes to every little kid she passes by. "Santa's watching, sweetie!" Keeping up the act while scanning the crowds for any hint of movement too sharp, too quiet. The candy canes crinkle in her velvet pouch, their peppermint scent clashing with the greasy waft of food court fries and the cloying sweetness of cinnamon pretzels. Her heels click louder than she'd like against the tile, each step sending a jolt up her spine, hyperaware of every shadow that flickers just outside her peripheral vision.
Then, she feels it, eyes. Not the usual quick glance and nervous giggle, but a slow, hungry drag across her body. A group of boys huddled around a racing game in the arcade, their collective gaze lingering on the swell of her hips where the elf skirt rides up with every step. One whistles, low and appreciative. "Damn, Santa upgraded his elves this year," another laughs, loud enough for her to hear.
Another teen boy with black hair calls out, "Hey elf, you wanna ride *my* sleigh?"
Another teen boy with brown hair, with a bang covering his right eye, whistles low and stares at April's ass while licking his lips. "Damn right, Santa upgraded his elves this year," he laughs, nudging his friend. April rolls her eyes, tightening her grip on the candy cane pouch, until a sharper whistle cuts through the mall's din.
"Look at those *hips*," a girl's voice purrs from the Victoria's Secret doorway, followed by a chorus of giggles.
April turns to see four teens in crop tops and ripped jeans, their eyes raking over her like she's a dessert tray. One, a redhead with a septum piercing, blows her a kiss. "Elfie, you ever let a girl unwrap *you*?" The others howl, one miming squeezing breasts with her hands.
April's face burns hotter than the mall's broken heater. Men's leers were predictable, but this? The redhead licks her glossed lips, stepping closer. "Bet you taste like candy canes."
April stiffens, the fishnet stockings suddenly itching like a live wire against her thighs. "I... uh, need to find Santa," she stammers, clutching the velvet pouch like a shield. The girls cackle, one snapping a phone pic, flash blinding, as April's pulse jackhammers.
"Santa's *right here*, babe," the redhead purrs, fingers trailing her own collarbone. The scent of vanilla body spray clogs April's throat as the pack circles her, their giggles sharp as tinsel. One girl's hand darts out, pinching the bell on April's corset. "Cute." The word drips with something sticky-sweet, predatory. April's stomach knots, this isn't flirting. It's a hunt.
Her elbow knocks into a mannequin draped in lace lingerie as she backs up. The teens don't move, just watch her stumble with half-lidded eyes. "Relax, elf," the redhead murmurs, plucking a candy cane from April's pouch. "We're just… admiring the merchandise." She snaps it between her teeth with a crunch. April's skin prickles, her usual quick wit dissolving under their collective gaze stripping her bare.
A security guard's radio crackles nearby, April seizes the distraction. "Duty calls!" she squeaks, bolting past them. Their laughter follows, nipping at her heels like hungry strays. The blonde wig slips further, sweat gluing fake hair to her neck. She doesn't stop until she's wedged between a Sunglass Hut and a potted fern, her breath ragged. The Foot Clan better be worth this humiliation.
Up on the third-floor railing, Asuka's grip tightens around a shopping bag full of shuriken-shaped cookie cutters. "Holy..." she breathes, hazel eyes widening as April's curvy silhouette moves through the crowd below. The elf outfit clings *just* right, the way the green velvet stretches across, *Focus, Asuka!* She shakes her head, ponytail whipping. Those men in black and purple, slinking like shadows behind potted palms, Foot ninjas. Her stomach drops. "She doesn't even *see* them," she mutters, already ducking behind a kiosk as one Foot soldier glances up.
"Grandpa always said to help damsels in distress," she whispers, but her cheeks burn. This damsel's fishnets are *distracting*. The way they dig into her thighs, the, *Stop it!* Asuka pinches her own wrist. The Foot are closing in, a glint of metal under one's sleeve. She's moving before she thinks, shoes slapping against the escalator steps.
By the time she hits the ground floor, April's vanished into a crowd near the Santa display. The Foot linger at the edges, their fingers twitching near hidden weapons. Asuka's own wakizashi press against her thighs under her skirt. "Okay," she whispers, adjusting her scarf. "Time to be the ninja Grandpa trained." She slips into the crowd, close enough to smell April's vanilla perfume, and the sharp tang of steel from the Foot.
April spots a tall man in a black coat with a purple hood slinking past a few people, his presence syphoning all her focus, or it *should* have. But the memory of those girls' fingers grazing her elf costume lingers like a fever dream. The black-haired one would've pinned her against the mall's cold glass display, breath hot as she whispered, *"You're naughty, elf."* April's thighs press together involuntarily, the friction of fishnets against skin sending sparks up her spine. *Stop. Following. The target.*
The man ducks into the service corridor, and April stumbles after him, only for the brown-haired girl's imagined moan to echo in her skull. *"You taste like peppermint..."* she'd groan before sinking teeth into April's shoulder, her hands rucking up that ridiculous green skirt. The corset digs deeper into April's ribs, her breath hitching as she rounds the corner. *Christ, I'd take the boys' catcalls over this.*
Dim emergency lights flicker overhead as she trails the Foot ninja, her heels silent now on concrete, but the blonde's phantom tongue flicks against her earlobe in her mind. *"Let me show you how *real* elves play,"* she'd purr, fingers toying with April's wig until it slipped free entirely. The man ahead pauses, head tilting like he heard her shudder. *Focus, goddammit!*
Then, *her*. The redhead's smirk burns behind April's eyelids, sharper than the security camera's red blink in the corridor. *"Bet you whimper pretty,"* she'd taunt before shoving April onto some mall employee's break-room table, that damned candy cane pouch spilling open like, Foot Soldier's hand flies to his hip. April freezes. The *click* of a blade unsheathing yanks her back to reality, her sweat suddenly icy under the scratchy velvet. *Safer with the boys? Maybe. Alive? Not if I don't move.
But what April didn't know, couldn't know, was that the Foot ninja wasn't alone. Ten more melted from the service corridor's shadows, their synchronized breathing barely audible over the mall's distant holiday muzak. Their footsteps made no sound, not even when one crushed a discarded candy cane wrapper underfoot.
"Think she's armed?" whispered the tallest, his fingers flexing near the tanto hidden in his sleeve.
"With *those* legs?" Another snorted, his gaze locked on the way April's fishnet-clad thighs strained against each nervous shift. "Only weapon she's packing is that..."
Meanwhile behind the ten Foot Clan ninjas. Asuka was trying her best to not be noticed by them. But she couldn't stop herself from thinking about the gorgeous older woman in the green elf outfit. Starting with her eyes, such bright blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence and determination. Her full lips painted in that dark green lipstick looked so inviting. The way her slim waist curved out to wide hips, how her shapely legs moved with such grace despite the pinching elf boots. Her D-cup breasts pressed against the tight green corset, rising and falling with each breath. The way her curvy ass swayed with each step, barely contained by the tiny green skirt. And finally, the way the fabric clung between her legs, hinting at the shape beneath...
April meanwhile remained unaware of her growing audience as she adjusted her corset with one hand while reaching for a candy cane with the other. "Alright boys," she muttered under her breath, flashing a fake smile at a passing child while keeping her eyes on the corridor ahead, "let's see what Santa's naughty list looks like tonight." The candy cane wrapper crinkled loudly in the sudden silence of the service hallway.
The man walked into a closed-off storage zone, where the mall's fluorescent lights flickered like dying fireflies. April's boots sank into the plush carpet as she followed, her pulse hammering in her throat. The man spun suddenly, his smirk slicing through the dim light. "Lost your holiday cheer, reporter?" he taunted, fingers twitching near the hilt of a concealed blade.
April's hand dove into her cleavage, the taser's weight familiar against her palm. She flicked the safety off with her thumb. "Let's skip the foreplay," she growled, the device buzzing to life. "Who's funding the Foot's chemical shipments?" The words barely left her lips before the air shifted, ten black-clad figures melted from the shadows, their footfalls silent as snowfall.
The lead ninja stepped forward, his voice dripping with amusement. "April O'Neil. Bold move, walking into our nest dressed like a slutty Christmas present." His gloved fingers twitched toward her wig, but April ducked back, the taser's prongs crackling.
Above them, Asuka's fingers slipped on the railing. *April O'Neil?* Her stomach somersaulted. The investigative journalist her grandfather had praised for exposing the Foot's Manhattan operations—the woman whose press photo she'd pinned inside her locker. Asuka's thighs pressed together involuntarily, the memory of April's red lipstick in that photo sending heat spiraling through her abdomen.
"Bold?" April's laughter rang hollow in the corridor, her fingers tightening around the taser. "Try desperate. Your boys stole enough potassium nitrate to level Queens..." The tallest Foot ninja lunged, his tanto flashing. April barely dodged, the blade slicing through her wig's blonde strands. "...and now you're attacking mall Santa's helper?" she spat, her back hitting the concrete wall as three more closed in, their synchronized breaths steaming in the cold air.
One grabbed her wrist, twisting until the taser clattered to the floor. "We prefer *direct* interrogation," he purred, his free hand sliding up her fishnet thigh.
April's knee jerked up, but the second ninja caught it effortlessly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh behind her knee. "Careful," he warned, the third pressing a kunai to her throat. "Wouldn't want Channel Six running your obituary in that..." His gaze dropped to her straining corset. "...*ensemble.*"
Asuka's wakizashi sliced through the overhead pipes before she'd fully registered leaping. Steam billowed around the Foot as she landed between them and April, her scarf whipping against the journalist's heaving chest. "Hands off," Asuka growled, blades crossed at her wrists, "or I'll gift-wrap your fingers for *Santa.*" The tallest ninja recoiled, *recognizing the Kiriobi style*—but the others merely smirked, circling like wolves scenting fresh blood. "Run," Asuka murmured over her shoulder, catching April's vanilla-and-sweat scent mixing with the steam. "*Now.*"
April lunged for her taser, the cold floor biting her knees through her fishnets as Asuka's battle cry echoed off the concrete. Steel clashed, once, twice, before a *wet thunk* signaled the first Foot soldier collapsing. April's fingers brushed the taser's grip just as another ninja's foot stomped down, missing her hand by millimeters. "*Shit!*" She rolled sideways, her corset's boning stabbing her ribs, and glimpsed Asuka mid-air, ponytail whipping, skirt flaring to reveal black shorts beneath, twin blades arcing in perfect synchrony with the bounce of her ample chest. *Jesus Christ, she's... magnificent.*
The twelfth Foot ninja, *wait, twelve?* materialized behind Asuka, his sickle aimed at her exposed back. April's taser sparked against his thigh before conscious thought caught up. He convulsed, the stench of singed fabric joining the steam's metallic tang. "*Down!*" April tackled Asuka just as a shuriken whizzed overhead, their bodies colliding, Asuka's soft curves pressing flush against April's, warm even through layers of tactical gear and velvet. Time stuttered: Asuka's surprised gasp, the rapid flutter of her pulse under April's palm, the way her F-cups *yielded* against April's own aching chest.
"Nice save," Asuka breathed, lips brushing April's ear as she flipped them, straddling April's hips to block another attack. Her thighs clenched around April's waist, *Christ, those thighs* as she deflected a kunai with a wrist-guard. "*But stay down,*" she ordered, the command undercut by how her ponytail tickled April's collarbone. April's retort died as Asuka *moved*, her body a blur of yellow vest and deadly precision, leaving April pinned beneath her, hyperaware of every place their bodies touched, the heat pooling low in her belly despite the danger.
The last Foot ninja crumpled with a groan, Asuka's wakizashi hilt-deep in his pressure point. Steam curled around her flushed cheeks as she turned, catching April staring at the way her sweat-damp shirt clung to her chest. April scrambled up, dusting off her ruined elf skirt, *when had it ridden up that high?* and cleared her throat. "So, uh. Thanks for the assist, shortstack. What's your name?"
"Asuka," the girl panted, hazel eyes gleaming under the flickering fluorescents. She stepped closer, close enough for April to count the freckles dusting her nose. "And *elfie*," she murmured, fingers brushing April's hip where the fishnet had torn, "*assist* deserves a reward, right?"
April snorted, adjusting her corset, *when had Asuka's thumb grazed the boning there?* "Yeah? What'd you have in mind, kiddo? A candy cane?"
Asuka's grin turned wicked. "Close." She leaned up, *three inches, just three fucking inches* and crushed her mouth against April's. The older woman stiffened, tasting peppermint and iron and something distinctly *Asuka* before her brain caught up. "*Mmf!*" April jerked back with a wet pop, her dark green lipstick smeared across both their mouths. "Jesus *Christ*, I'm *straight*..."
Asuka's smirk didn't waver. "Sorry," she lied, fingers already hooking in April's corset laces. "But you *did* offer..." Her teeth scraped April's jaw, *earning* the gasp that followed. "And I *never* turn down a gift."
April tries to push Asuka's hands away, but the younger girl's fingers refuse to budge from where they're hooked into her corset laces. "I'm *serious*, Asuka... I've never even kissed a..." Her protest dissolves into a sharp inhale as Asuka's free hand slides up her thigh, the fishnet seams catching on calloused fingertips.
"Liar," Asuka breathes against her mouth, dragging April backward toward the abandoned Santa cabin. "You *arched* into me when I blocked that kunai." The plywood door groans as she kicks it open, revealing a dusty velvet chair and tangled strands of fake snow. April's spine hits the wall with a thud, the impact rattling the plastic reindeer mounted above them.
April grips Asuka's shoulders, to shove her away, *obviously* but her palms betray her, sliding down to map the taut muscles beneath the yellow vest. "This is...*ah!*... career suicide," she gasps as Asuka's teeth find her earlobe.
Asuka laughs, warm and wicked, her knee slotting between April's thighs. "Relax, reporter." She licks a stripe up April's throat, pausing to suck at her pulse point. "By dawn, you'll be *begging* to write my exposé." Her hand splays across April's stomach, fingertips dipping beneath the corset's hem. "Starting with..." A sharp tug pops the last lace free. "...how *thoroughly* I debriefed you."
April's gasp echoes off the fake snow as Asuka's mouth crashes into hers again, no teasing this time, just heat and teeth and the dizzying realization that *this* is why she'd always rolled her eyes at her ex-boyfriends' clumsy groping. Asuka's tongue flicks against hers in a rhythm that sends sparks down her spine, her smaller body pinning April effortlessly against the wall.
"*Fuck*," April hisses when Asuka's palm cups her breast through the sweaty velvet, thumb circling a nipple already stiff enough to ache. "You're...*nngh*... and I'm not gay..."
Asuka nips her lower lip, not breaking contact as she reaches down April's cleavage, past the trembling rise of her breasts, and pulls out the backup taser tucked there. It clatters to the floor with finality. "And you're *lying*," she murmurs, peeling the ruined corset away inch by inch. "*Again*."
April's hips jerk involuntarily as Asuka's nails graze her bare waist, the contrast between calloused fighter's hands and soft skin making her shiver. The shorter girl's strength shouldn't surprise her, not after seeing her disembowel Foot ninjas, but feeling it firsthand, those deceptively delicate fingers manhandling her with terrifying ease, sends a fresh wave of heat pooling low in her abdomen. "Christ," April breathes, arching into the touch despite herself. "*How* are you this strong?"
Asuka's lips curve against her collarbone. "Ninja training," she deadpans, yanking April's skirt down just enough to expose the soaked lace beneath. "*And* teenage hormones."
April's breath hitches as calloused fingers slide under the waistband, the rasp of fishnets against bare skin louder than the mall's dying muzak. "God, you're..."
"Asking nicely?" Asuka drops to her knees, mouthing a burning trail down April's stomach. The elf boots stay on for right now, she'd insisted, and the contrast of leather against trembling thighs makes April's vision blur. "*Now* can I unwrap my present?"
The older woman's knees buckle when Asuka's tongue flicks against damp lace, the wet heat seeping through fabric. April's hands fist in dark brown hair as she jerks forward with a gasp. "Jesus *fuck*...who taught you..."
"Ninja secrets," Asuka murmurs against her, inhaling vanilla and salt as she peels the ruined underwear aside with her teeth. "*But*..." Her tongue laps at April's clit with surgical precision, earning a ragged moan. "...this part's self-taught."
April's back bows off the wall, fingers scrabbling for purchase as Asuka's nose nudges against her, relentless. The younger girl's ponytail tickles her inner thighs with every movement, the ribbon coming loose as April tugs. "*Asuka*..."
"Uh-uh." A nip to her inner thigh. "Say *please*."
April's hips jerk forward, desperation overriding pride. "*Please,* you little...*ohgod*..." The curse dissolves into a whine as Asuka swallows her whole, humming against slick flesh. The vibration travels up April's spine like live wire, her thighs quivering around Asuka's head as pleasure crests.
Above her, a plastic reindeer's glassy eyes stare blankly at the scene, as if to ask, *How the hell did you end up here?* April would laugh if she could breathe.
Asuka pulls back just enough to watch April unravel, lips glistening. "Still straight?"
April's responding groan sounds suspiciously like surrender.
"Boots off," Asuka murmurs against her inner thigh, fingers already working the tiny hooks of April's elf heels. The leather surrenders with a reluctant squeak, each inch of bare skin exposed making April's breath hitch higher, until Asuka abruptly yanks them free and tosses them aside with a clatter. "Now these." Her thumbs catch the tops of April's fishnets, dragging them down torturously slow. The latex clings, fighting every millimeter until it finally snaps free, leaving April's thighs exposed to the stale mall air.
April barely has time to register the chill before Asuka's hands snake under her ass, lifting her clean off the ground with a grunt. The older woman yelps as her back hits the moth-eaten velvet of Santa's chair, its gold braid scratching her bare shoulders. "Jesus, you're stronger than you...ah!" The protest dies in her throat as Asuka steps back, fingers flying to the buttons of her own vest.
"Ninja perk," Asuka quips, shrugging out of the yellow fabric with practiced ease. The white shirt beneath clings to her sweat-slicked torso, translucent enough to outline the dark peaks of her nipples. April's mouth goes dry as Asuka's fingers twist in the hem, lifting it overhead in one fluid motion, her F-cups bouncing free with an almost comical vigor, the weight of them swaying before settling against her ribs. April's laugh comes out strangled. "Holy shit. Those're... gravity-defying."
Asuka's grin turns feline as she shimmies out of her skirt, black shorts following in a swift kick. "Ninja training," she purrs, crawling onto the chair with predatory grace. Her knees bracket April's hips, those magnificent breasts hovering inches from April's mouth. "But *this* lesson?" She presses forward until April's back arches off the velvet, skin meeting skin in a scorching line from collarbone to thigh. "*Self-study.*"
April's gasp is swallowed by Asuka's lips crashing into hers again, teeth clacking as the younger girl devours her. The heat between them is unbearable, sweat-slick skin sticking, chests heaving against each other with every ragged breath. Asuka's nipples drag against April's with deliberate friction, the rough peaks sending electric jolts straight to her core. "*Fuck*, you're..."
"Loud," Asuka interrupts between bruising kisses, her hands sliding down to grip April's waist. She shifts just enough to grind her bare pelvis against April's, the wet slide drawing a broken moan from both of them. "Thought journalists were supposed to be *observant*."
April's nails bite into Asuka's shoulders as the younger girl licks into her mouth, their tongues tangling in a rhythm that mirrors the roll of Asuka's hips. The press of full breasts against hers, the way Asuka's sweat tastes salt-sharp under April's tongue, none of it feels like surrender anymore. It feels like *winning.* Asuka's knee nudges April's thighs wider, her own opening with a sigh as she drags April's legs up around her waist. The shift makes April gasp, suddenly, *everything* aligns, Asuka's heat grinding down against her in slow, deliberate circles. "Still *straight*?" Asuka murmurs, her breath hot against April's jaw as she thrusts harder, the wet slide of skin-on-skin obscenely loud in the cramped Santa cabin.
April's back arches off the chair, her hips lifting to meet Asuka's like they've done this a thousand times. The angle is *perfect*, Asuka's clit dragging against hers with every movement, the friction maddening and slick and *so much* April's never felt another woman like this, never known how *soft* and *hot* and *right* it could be. "Jesus *fuck*," she groans, her thighs tightening around Asuka's waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Asuka's answering moan vibrates against her throat, her hands sliding down to grip April's ass, fingers digging in as she grinds harder, faster.
"Tell me," Asuka demands between panting breaths, her teeth scraping April's collarbone. "Tell me you *feel* this." She shifts her hips just slightly, changing the angle so that every thrust sends sparks shooting up April's spine. April's vision whites out for a second, her fingers scrambling for purchase in Asuka's hair, when had she grabbed it? Her body taut as a bowstring. "I *feel* it," she gasps, the words tumbling out unbidden. "I...*god*, I feel *everything*."
Asuka's laugh is breathless, triumphant, her nails leaving half-moons on April's hips as she slows her movements, drawing out each torturous, delicious stroke. "Good," she purrs, her lips brushing April's ear. "Now *watch*." She pulls back just enough for April to see where they're joined, the glistening proof of how much she's unraveling, before sinking down again with a groan that April feels in her bones. The display is obscene, mesmerizing, April's never seen herself like this, never *imagined* and the sight alone is enough to send her hurtling toward the edge.
"Fuck, *fuck*," April whines, her thighs trembling around Asuka's waist as the younger girl grinds harder, her F-cups bouncing with every movement, their nipples brushing in time with their frantic breaths. "I'm... *ohgod*... I'm gonna..."
"Say it," Asuka gasps, her own voice fraying at the edges, her clit throbbing where it's pressed against April's, the wet heat between them unbearable. "*Say* it, April..."
April's back bows off the chair with a sob, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her cunt clenching around nothing as she spills against Asuka's, the slick mess between them only spurring the younger girl on. "*Fuck*, yes," Asuka moans, her hips stuttering as she chases her own release, her fingers digging into April's ass hard enough to bruise. "Just like that...*just*..."
Her rhythm falters, her breath catching as she comes with a ragged cry, her body shuddering against April's, their sweat-slick skin sticking as they ride it out together, panting, trembling, spent. Asuka's forehead drops to April's shoulder with a shaky laugh, her breath hot against April's throat. "*Still* straight?" she murmurs, her lips brushing April's pulse point, lazy, satisfied.
April's laugh comes out breathless, her fingers tracing idle circles on the small of Asuka's back. "Well," she drawls, her voice still wrecked, "I *was* planning to write a puff piece about holiday cheer..."
Asuka lifts her head just enough to smirk down at her, hazel eyes bright with mischief. "*That* your idea of investigative journalism?"
April's grin is slow, wicked. "Call it... field research."
The kiss that follows is slower this time, deeper, Asuka's lips moving against hers with a tenderness that wasn't there before, her fingers tangling in April's curls as she pulls her closer, closer, until the plastic reindeer tilts precariously overhead, its glassy stare judging them both.