Dickory

Mistletoe and Eggnog

"But why?" Nines asked curiously as he watched Chloe holding the delicate sprig above Elijah's head. They were sitting in the conservatory. They'd finished their meal and were simply enjoying the peace and quiet that came with a soundproofed mansion outside Detroit. Nines had never seen such a plant before, though it wasn't surprising considering it was his first winter outside Cyberlife Tower. He'd been in the final test phase of his existence during the revolution and had been left in stasis during the later turmoil. He likely would have remained that way if it hadn't been for Gavin. A certain fond warmth filled his chest at the memory.

"Oh, it's just a tradition. If someone holds a sprig of mistletoe above another person's head, or two people meet beneath it, they're supposed to kiss," Elijah replied as he sipped his amber drink. Another whiskey by the looks of it. They'd already completely cleared the table. Only drinking glasses and gently flickering candles remained littering the white cloth. Gavin was a little surprised Elijah didn't have some sort of pretentious candelabra as a centrepiece. He likely did have one somewhere, but Chloe much preferred the smaller, intimate votive candles. She'd put them in small decorative red holders that flooded the room with a soft red glow.

"And it's bad luck not to," Chloe added as she rested a meaningful hand on Elijah's shoulder. Elijah looked up at her with soft, amused eyes, an almost dopey smile on his face. "The theorised origin story is actually quite sad. In Norse mythology the Goddess, Frigg, cast a spell to protect her son, Baldur, against plants that could be used as weapons. The spell was effective, but it missed out mistletoe. Loki eventually made a spear from mistletoe that killed Baldur. It's unclear exactly when it came about, but in some retellings of the story, Frigg decided that mistletoe would become a symbol of love, and she promised to kiss anyone that stood beneath it. This story isn't widely recognised of course, and considering the tradition seemed to begin in England, it's likely not connected. However, it is a tradition now and bad luck to refuse," Chloe explained with a little insistence. Her blue eyes shifted almost expectantly to Elijah, who was still relaxing in his chair. He chuckled as he lowered his tumbler to his cocked knee, reaching up to rest his fingers beneath Chloe's chin.

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" His teasing tone was laced with silken undertones as he patiently waited, drawing Chloe's chin a little closer. Smooth fucker...Gavin scoffed internally as he watched Chloe lean in and kiss him. He noticed Nines' LED stutter yellow as he processed the encounter, likely looking up sources online to get a little deeper into the origins. Gavin thanked whatever God there was that Elijah had a little restraint. After a few moments in which his hand reached up to caress the back of Chloe's neck, the couple separated to exchange soft, doe-eyed looks before parting. Chloe looked expectant as she then held the sprig above Nines' head.

"Tradition," Chloe prompted teasingly as she watched Nines' LED flicker yellow once again as he tilted his head uncertainly. It wasn't that he found the idea of kissing Chloe distasteful, only their social interactions had clearly placed her in the role of older sister, and it seemed unusual to have such an intimate encounter with a sibling. "Just a small peck. You can even do it on my cheek," she prompted cheerfully as she turned her head just so. Nines nodded amicably. That seemed acceptable. He dutifully leaned in and pressed his lips to the flawlessly soft skin, receiving a kiss on his own cheek in return.

"I know-I know. Tradition," Gavin quipped with air quotes as he sat forward in his chair. Chloe had already danced over to him and held the sprig expectantly. He wasn't as uncertain as Nines, being quite familiar with this already. He leaned in with ease and pressed the briefest of kisses to Chloe's soft lips. He didn't feel anything, of course, and he hadn't expected to. It was just a small show of affection, hardly intimate at all. "And I think that's enough," he teased as he plucked the small plant from her fingertips. She pouted at him a little for ruining her fun, but the last thing he wanted was to be locking lips with his brother or forcing himself on Nines. He may have been a little tipsy from the wine, but he was in no way drunk. Usually, he wouldn't even be tipsy after the couple of glasses he'd drunk, but the cold medication was making him drowsy.