"Mash anythin' you want," he says, his voice a low and amused rumble, and he leans in and grins against her cheek before he kisses her there too. He has no doubts about this. It might not be the easiest thing, there might even be some fuck-ups, but he can't imagine it mattering. He can't imagine anyone caring. It's Christmas.

"Thanks," he adds after a moment, and it feels strange to say. He's never said it very much, though it might be in part that he's only recently had much to thank people for. But he is grateful to her. For this, for the furry little thin purring under his hand, but most of all for her, and that's been true for a long time.