A/N: Written for @TheFoodCatalogue prompt.

Epping Forest, Essex, United Kingdom

"Paul? Have you got the stuffing?" Richard yelled from where he was banging about in the kitchen.

I paused in pulling on my thickest socks and thought for a moment, uncertain as to how to take my husband's off-the-cuff and unexpected comment.

"Paul?" Richard yelled again as somewhere downstairs, something clattered with a plastic rattle against the kitchen floor tiles. "Shit. My best bowl. Stuffing, Paul!"

"What on earth do you mean by that, Reesh?" I yelled back with a certain sense of hesitation.

There was a brief silence before Richard's voice came again and it sounded closer. It sounded as though he'd left the kitchen and had stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"Exactly what I meant. The stuffing. For the turkey. Did you get it?" he yelled and he sounded as baffled as I felt right then.

I had to laugh at that; I should have realised what Richard had meant, considering the fact that it was the day before Christmas Eve. As usual, Richard and I had invited the rest of the members of our band to our house for the requisite evening meal.

I padded out onto the landing on my socked feet before I yelled back - "No, I did not get the stuffing, Reesh. I thought you'd bought it."

Richard blinked up at me. I was dressed in nothing more than my trousers and socks after all and I started to shiver. Despite the heating being on in the house, there still was a certain chill in the air which served as a reminder of the oncoming snowstorm that had been threatening our part of England for a while. A smirk passed across my husband's face and he nodded up at me.

"You can stay like that if you like, Paul. Perky nipples," he said and laughed at my embarrassed expression.

I covered my nipples with my hands before I said - "It's cold, Reesh. Shut your mouth."

Richard laughed even harder before he shook his head and returned to the previous line of conversation.

"And to get away from perky nipples for a moment, I didn't get the stuffing, obviously. I wouldn't have been asking if you had if I'd got it myself," he pointed out and quirked an eyebrow at me.

I gave him an unimpressed look but had to concede to his point all the same. I had been distracted by his unexpected question, to which I admitted as much.

"Why? What other type of stuffing did you expect me to be asking for?" Richard asked before he sighed and raised one hand wearily. "Don't bother answering that one, squidge. If you're going to give me a rude response, then I don't want to hear it."

I raised both eyebrows at him before I smirked and said - "That's a first for you, Reesh. You're usually one of the first to come out with a lewd joke."

"No. That's Jonas," Richard corrected as he referred to our drummer. "He's the rude one."

Again, I had to concede to his point even though my point still stood - Richard came a close second at times to our irascible drummer. I let that one slide even as I turned away with an amused snort.

"Where are you going now, squidge?" Richard asked in surprise.

"I'm not getting the stuffing. I'm putting on a shirt and a jumper," I said over my shoulder. "You've already made a crack about my perky nipples. I'm not parading around the house like this for the rest of the day quite clearly."

"Party pooper," Richard howled up the stairs which made me laugh.

I made my way down the stairs only when I had pulled on the required shirt and jumper, both of which made me infinitely warmer than my previous shirtless state. Richard was still banging around in the kitchen, looking for who knew what.

"Now what are you looking for?" I asked in exasperation as my husband whirled like a dervish around the cupboards.

"Turkey foil, baking tray, cranberry sauce, peanuts, so many things we haven't got," Richard sang out in growing frustration. "Just who did the damned Christmas shopping this year, anyway?"

"You did," I pointed out not unkindly. "And I seem to remember you complaining that all of the otehr customers had taken the things you most wanted. Namely, the things you just listed."

Richard's silence spoke volumes, and I saw the scowl on his face as he continued stamping around the kitchen. I bit back a laugh and crossed my arms as I watched him. Richard caught my amused glare and scowled back at me; the tell-tale twitch of the corners of his mouth told me that he, too, was trying not to laugh.

"Garlic," he said with great abandon.

"Come again?" I asked at his sudden proclamation.

"I need garlic. We have none," he said. "How can we have any dinner without any garlic for the Hasselback potatoes? And what have we got left to give a were-panther for Christmas dinner, anyway?"

Our bassist, Travis, was a were-panther and had long since carried that curse - if curse it truly was - for years. I frowned at Richard's unexpected question and I crossed my arms over my chest.

I sighed before I said - "I dunno, Reesh. What do we usually give him at this time of year? Or to put it another way, what have we got left, exactly? You know Trav pretty much eats anything that's put in front of him."

Richard also sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair; the motion made the short dark strands mussed and out of place of their usual carefully styled state.

"Yeah. I know, squidge. I just can't think properly at the moment," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "There's too much going wrong at the moment. We're all out of the essentials and we need food for the rest of the band when they arrive. And Travis needs more food than the rest of us put together because he's essentially a big cat with an even bigger appetite and I'm frightened of being a bad host and running out. Again. Like last year. There's a snowstorm coming. I broke my best mixing bowl just now."

I nodded; his last woebegone statement explained the plastic clatter I'd heard earlier in the evening and his resultant sharped bark of a curse.

"Okay, so it's a bad day in Diva-land," I said and choked back a laugh at Richard's indignant expression.

I sighed and shook my head before I went to the cupboard to fish my keys out of it.

"Okay. So things are going wrong today. I'll sort out what I can. Write down all of the things you need and I'll go out and get them," I said and sighed again as I turned back to face my husband.

Richard also sighed and reached out to take the keys from me.

"No, squidge. I'll get them. I was supposed to have done so before," he said and there was a slight grit to his teeth that indicated remnant anger. "And it was me who broke the best bloody bowl."

I took the keys back from him and laughed at the indignant squawl that my husband made.

"No. I am getting the food, dear," I insisted. "You're in a state and you'll forget everything again. You know you can become like the High Grand Mage of Drama Queen-ness when you get going."

That at least made Richard laugh and that seemed to break some of the tension in the room. He finally conceded to my point with good grace before he shook his head.

"And yet you, Paul, never give in to moments of high dudgeon," he observed wryly.

"I do sometimes but I'm German, don't forget. I'm nothing if not calm and efficient at all times. And punctual with getting things done," I said and raised an eyebrow at my husband's sudden laughter. "Now what's the matter?"

"I am not going to argue with the German point," he said and he turned to grab the nearest note block. "Fine, squidge. You go with your German efficiency. Just give me a minute to scribble a few things down, won't you?"

I nodded. Actually, he was several minutes and I had to trail after him as he went from kitchen to pantry and back again, scribbling as he went. He filled a few pages of the note block and I baulked when I saw the amount of things I was expected to retrieve.

"I bloody well hope they have all of this in Tesco, Reesh," I pointed out, unconvinced that the supermarket would stock it all this close to Christmas.

"If it's not, then go to bloody Aldi," Richard said snippily. "Or get some alternatives. Use your bloody Munich-born brain, Paul."

I bit back a laugh at his response yet Richard, as sharp-eyed as ever, caught my expression and laughed outright. He didn't offer further comment however other than to wave a heartfelt apology at me and so, I was left to wend my way out of the house and towards my car.

I checked the sky and the clouds hovered lower and darker than they had earlier in the morning. The forecast snow seemed to be arriving earlier than the weather reports had previously indicated if the sky that day was anything to go by. The temperature had dropped even more which further indicated the change in weather. I shivered and was glad to slam the car door closed behind me, thereby shutting the worst of the day's offerings out.

The engine fired into roaring life and I activated the heater: I knew that it would take a few miles before the hotter temperatures would kick in. I waved at Richard, who was staring out of the living room window; he saluted before I pulled away from the house and into the trees that surrounded our house. Epping Forest was a quiet hush around me as I drove between the trees and onto the main road which would take me into Epping itself.

The clouds above grew heavier and the first few flakes started to fall to the ground even as I drove. I shivered despite the burgeoning warmth in the car and continued driving grimly, in the hope that I would return home before the worst of the snowstorm hit.

As soon as I hit Epping itself, however, matters took a turn for the worse. Traffic had started to build up there, filled with people on a mad Christmas rush, who were quite clearly late getting the last of the presents and the food in. I cursed, both in English and German and my hands gripped the wheel as I inched the car forward. The flakes fell harder and started to stick to the ground; I knew then that the storm really had arrived and that we were in for a rough ride.

Finally, after an excruciating half an hour stuck in traffic, I reached Tesco and parked. I hurried towards the supermarket's warm interior; my coat was pulled around my ears and my shoulders were hunched to protect myself from the freezing bite of the wind and the sting of the snowflakes as they hit against my face and exposed skin.

Inside the supermarket, the sound of screaming kids and loud chatter and laughter greeted me, as the hustle and bustle of late afternoon shoppers greeted me. I cursed again, grabbed a trolley and began winding my way past the crush of bodies while attempting not to run over any children noisily throwing tantrums on the floor. The sound barely covered the blare of Christmas songs as they played over the supermarket's speakers; those insistent songs were something that had always grated on my nerves at the end of the year. I tried to ignore them as best as I could - without any degree of success.

I managed to get almost everything on Richard's list, yet had to get a few alternatives when it proved that some of the shelves had been stripped clean of their goods by ravening shoppers - that included anything that I thought might appeal to Travis' were-panther palate. I had to wait a while in the queue before I was served, and I was barely able to paste a pleasant smile on my face when the cashier greeted me over-cheerfully.

I was glad to finally make my way outside and pile the shopping bags in the boot of the car. I was keenly aware that the snow had started falling thick and fast since I'd been in the supermarket and the flakes had already started to form a thick white blanket on the ground and across the cars.

I hurried through stowing the trolley away in its appropriate shelter before I returned to the car and climbed in gratefully. I pulled out of the car park, glad to see that the way out of Epping was far clearer than the way in; many people were still stuck in traffic, as car horns blared and angry, frustrated faces sat grimly behind windshields.

Thankfully, the snow didn't hinder my way back home too much. I stamped my way inside the house as soon as I'd parked up and once he'd seen me, Richard began to laugh. I scowled at him ferociously even as he spoke.

"You look like the cat who got the last piece of fish," he observed. "And it was rotten."

"I feel like that and worse," I gritted out. "The shops were packed, I couldn't get all of the items on the list and had to get alternatives, the children were throwing tantrums and it's snowing."

"Is that all?" Richard asked blandly.

I stared at him blankly before I said - "Says the person who didn't have to put up with all that crap."

Richard laughed and nodded before he sighed.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "Besides, it's not as though I had my own fair share of meltdowns earlier. Shall I help you put the shopping away?"

"If you wouldn't mind," I said sourly. "If it's not too much trouble."

Richard laughed again and he pecked a kiss on my cheek as he passed me. That provoked a smile from me and he laughed again.

"That's what I like to see, Paul. The return of that squidgy smile of yours," he said and laughed again.

I snorted at him and shook my head even as I began roughly shoving dry goods into the kitchen cupboards.

"You can make me one of your famous hot chocolates with marshmallows and extra brandy, Reesh. That will definitely get me smiling again," I predicted. "And warm me up."

"I can think of other ways to warm you up if you really need it, Paul," Richard said and he leered at me in the most lascivious manner.

That brought a laugh to my lips even as I nodded.

"Later," I said.

"I'll hold you to that," Richard said and grinned. "Or I'll hold onto you instead."

"Either will work," I said and pushed the cheese into the appropriate shelf in the fridge.

Richard grinned and I felt some of my previous bad humour starting to melt away. Outside, the snow fell even thicker and the wind howled against the sides of the house. The evening drew in still further so that all that we saw was the blackness of the night and the sound of the wind as it battered the house.

We ate dinner and finally, it was time to retire to bed, to snuggle beneath the warmth of the blankets and to shut out the storm for a while.

****

The following day, the entire house was filled with the scents of cooking. Turkey aromas wafted throughout the kitchen and onwards to the dining room and beyond. Soon, the myriad scents of roast potatoes, batter pudding, vegetables, and the sweeter aromas of mince pies and Christmas pudding joined them, as they either cooked or warmed through.

Knocks came at the door and I soon was feeling like Bilbo Baggins as I huffed and puffed to and from the door, leading the guests into the house. Of course, I did not offer the rest of our band poppy seed cakes as we had none, yet I did offer them salted pretzels, Twiglets and other nibbles.

Travis had, of course, brought his wife, Sasha with him, as requested, even though she was not formally part of our band; she had further ties to us in that she was also Tricia's sister and the one who'd originally introduced Richard and I to one another. Of course, she was fully aware of Travis' panther side and loved that part of him as much as his human alter-ego.

Soon, all six of us sat at the table, indulging in all of the assorted goodies that Richard and I had laid on - except for Tricia who had a nut roast instead of the turkey as she was the sole vegetarian out of all of us.

Gifts were exchanged and much laughter was to be had, long into the night, as the fire roared behind us. The world was long since forgotten by the time the King's speech came on and we sat and listened to the words booming forth from the TV.

We played Charades, which Sasha was exceptionally good at and she beat all of us. Twister was another game that we enjoyed and unsurprisingly, Tricia was the most limber of us all. We gave up on Cluedo because Jonas decided he was bored and tipped the board onto the floor when he realised he'd been caught out early on in the game as being the culprit. Jonas and Travis then tag-teamed and told the rudest jokes while Richard and I trounced the others at making up song lyrics on the spot.

Outside, the snow fell thicker than ever yet we were safe inside, a chosen family enjoying the warmth of good food and festivities.

****

Later that evening, Travis had to turn into his panther form. To our surprise, he'd already requested admittance to our garden as he'd always wanted to play in the snow - and never had yet. I supposed that being the solitary Australian in our band had something to do with that; Travis himself had often opined that he'd never seen snow when he'd been in Perth.

I joined the others at the patio doors and watched as Travis gambolled in the snow, his large black form pouncing amongst the far whiter flakes that decorated what once had been the lawn. I took a video of our resident - and friendly - were-panther while the others cheered him on. His excited growls and rumbles echoed through the air as he batted the flakes around, tilting his head up towards the sky, mouth agape to catch more of the falling flakes on his lolling pink tongue.

In time, he returned inside, and we helped to bush the flakes from his fur, marvelling at the leopard spots that shone and shimmered through the darker part of his fur, still barely visible.

He stretched out in front of the fire and fell asleep; the rest of us allowed him his rest, knowing that though he was a panther, he still sometimes behaved like the world's largest cat. We all had to agree that though the weather had initially threatened to dampen the festivities, it had helped to enhance the evening for us. As usual, we'd enjoyed the celebrations and all decided that it was one of the best Christmasses we'd ever passed together.