I had started to think nothing could tire Grýla Yuletrollet, but that last round had done her in. She collapsed flat onto the bed, rolled over facing the window and passed out. I lay back and stared contemplatively at the ceiling; the adrenaline was wearing off, but sleep wasn't coming in a hurry.

Then she turned to roll the other way, and her arms piled on top of me.

As a youth, I hated situations like this. And as an older man the best I can say is I've learned some tools at least to cope with it. I took it as an opportunity to meditate on what we'd done, what I was learning about myself, and so on. I drifted a while... not necessarily to sleep, but somewhere.

I do have my limitations, though. I have to put my pants on one foot at a time just like you full mortals do. So, the moment I emerged from my stupor and saw that the sun had begun to rise, I tried to shake the massive naked woman awake. And when that failed, I wormed my way out of our tangle and got to my feet.

In her sleep, she snorted. "Leppa, jeg kan ikke..."

I made two big cups of coffee, and ran up to take a shower.

When I got out, fresh and thoroughly scrubbed, I peeked my head into the master bedroom. As expected, Josefina and Misha were still snuggled up. Well for them, I thought. I've got breakfast to make, and a conversation or two to have.

"What is it, Lepp—oh, it's you. Good morning, Herr Sheldon."

"Good morning, Grýla. I want to talk, and I made us sausage and eggs to eat while we do that. Can you toss on some clothes for the day?"

I took a moment to text the others and let them know we were decent. Once situated, me at the coffee table and Grýla at the wall, I continued:

"It's a shame no one does couples counseling for monsters. I think I might know someone who can help you, though. I'll ask next time I see them."

"Who?" she asked between bites. "Surely you don't mean Yub-Shnagshoroth?"

I chuckled. "No. This is one of my mentors, Kaesalpinnix. They're a hierarch of the Planters and one hell of a therapist. But also, listen. I think we should try and do this every year. I can't say it'll be quite like this, but it'll be fun. There's just two things: first, I need it scheduled in advance, it can't be a surprise like this."

She waited to finish her sausage link, which disintegrated under her sharp teeth like paper in a shredder, before replying.

"I do keep a calendar, Blekksprutgutt."

"Good.  Let's take a look at next year then, shall we? Next winter solstice I am... free. No conflicts with other holidays. I'd just want to run it by Josefina."

There was a creak at the stairs; I turned and saw Josefina in her pink polka-dot nighties, trailed by Misha in his blue and gold Hanukkah pajamas.

"Run what by Josefina?"

Words can't properly attest to how fucking cute Jo is when she's sleepy, but I'll try: she looks like an angel just awakened from a thousand year rest. But you know, with 100% less fire and 90% fewer eyeballs, and slightly more pronounced dark circles.

"Solstice again," I said, "same time same place next year. There's no overlap with Hanukkah—"

She held up a hand.

"Before I say yes, let me get a look at you, darling." She inspected my head, neck and chest for injuries. I'm not sure what she expected to see, knowing what I am, but it seemed to help satisfy her protective instincts, and I really cannot fault her for that.

"Anything break overnight? Any soreness in your bits or your bum now?"

"No, and maybe a little," I said sheepishly.

"Eh, fine, then. It's the 21st? I'll be in town by then, but I can always figure out something to do with myself... Do I smell eggs and veggie sausage?"

By way of an answer, I gestured to the kitchen and, after a quick hug, Josefina meandered that direction. I waved Misha in for a hug as well.

"Alright," I said to Grýla, "the 21st. Unless, of course, your husband has other plans for you that night, in which case you should see to him. Which brings me to the other thing: how the hell do we get in contact if one of us has a change of plans?"

She laughed at this.

"Your friend Assface, I see him every couple weeks. He likes to go sightseeing in the arctic. Always at that same little hill in Spitsbergen, not far from where I live. It is most annoying. But I suppose it'll help."

Breakfast was a warm and jovial affair after that. The giantess didn't want to stay long; fair, considering there was nothing in our house designed to accommodate her. But she did take the time to regale us with a couple stories about her offspring; there were 13, every single one of them a petty criminal and comical oaf. Plus the aforementioned good-for-nothing husband, and Jolakoturrinn, who I gathered was the terror of many a norse child. He had a strange aversion to socks, though. I couldn't fathom it. Stilgar, like every cat I've loved, is a rampant sock thief.

At some point, we felt and heard a rumbling from outside. Josefina went to the bay window.

"What is it, babe?" I could see she had that now-familiar look, where something was extremely weird by normal people's standards but not necessarily weird for us.

"Oh, you know," she said with a bemused grin. "Her cat shrunk, and your cat grew, and now we have two moose-sized housecats chasing each other around in the snow."

To which we all nodded sagely.

A few minutes later, I was standing out on the porch, looking over the early morning yuletide landscape of East Ithaca. Truly it looked peaceful. Save, of course, for the massive spray of snow when Stilgar pounced at Jolakoturrinn, missed, and careened into a snowbank.

"Oof. So, you got everything?"

"Ja. See you next year, Octopus Boy."

"See ya, Spruce."

I said this, of course, but then Jo and I ended up putting on our coats and following her halfway down the driveway. She waved one last time from the road, turned, and rumbled off to the north, stopping once to whistle to her cat, who came bounding after her through the 3’ of snow like it was nothing.

“Glad Yule to all!” I heard her exclaim. A few minutes later, she was gone from view.

We turned back towards the house, and found Stilgar sitting there expectantly in the drive. He was, of course, back to his normal 15-pound self.

“Hey, Stil. Did you make a friend this week?”

He chirped, and sprinted for the house. Josefina and I took our time in following.

“So,” I said. “That was a scheduling nightmare—”

“Shel, do you recall us having a conversation a couple months ago about holiday travel plans? Do you remember what we agreed on that evening?”

I sighed contritely.

“That we would tell the Morai-sa I won’t be available for any work on Chanukah. Jo, I did tell them. This came from The Watch, not Ana, and he was very unclear with me.”

Clearly frustrated, she shook her head. “Isn’t that worse? Assface reads the future, and may or may not have converted to Judaism a century ago. He would’ve known this was going to inconvenience us.”

“I agree. Next I see him, I am giving him a piece of my mind, and Ares’s number.”

She looked at me seriously. “Can you do that, and not pull your punches? You’re usually so non-confrontational.”

“I sure as hell can when it concerns time with my girlfriend.” I grinned hopefully at her. “Would that set things right? That and, oh, I’ll pay to move your flight back a day?”

Ah, there was the smile that lit my world again.

“Baby, don’t even, just use my fucking credit card and set it up for me so I don’t have to, and you got a deal. Oh, and one more thing. How would you feel about being affianced to me some day soon? Hypothetically.”

My jaw dropped for a moment.

“It was scary,” she continued, “knowing you were at risk and not knowing for certain you’d be unhurt. I got to thinking about us.”

“Well… hypothetically, I would say that’s a rather long conversation for this driveway, but I very well might be into that. I might also add that polyam weddings are the cutest and most dorktastic things I’ve ever been to. But, maybe we could talk about it some more after we get a few hours’ rest?”

“Yeah, okay,” said Jo.

We held hands and walked in silence as we came up to the top of the driveway and approached the farmhouse.

“You know something Shel?”

“What, Jo?

“When you and I have a calm and reasoned fight about something, and you treat me with respect the whole time, and then we ultimately reach a resolution we can accept at least for the moment, as equals?”

“Yeah?” I said, “at least on the nights when we’re succeeding at it. What then?”

“It makes me really fucking hot and bothered when that happens. It makes me want to be lying down in bed, with you right behind me, gripping me roughly by my ribs and underboob, pounding my ass and telling me I’m your bitch. As equals.”

Christ, it hadn’t been four hours since that fuckfest.

“I admit, I said, “I am tempted to try.”

“Or”—she reached around and smacked my ass—”I sometimes think about you going down on me and telling me I’m your goddess. As equals.”

“You know, It’s not even eight, if we pound now we’d still have time to sleep in a few hours afterwards.” 

I opened the front door, held it for Josefina, and waved her in like an absolute jackass.

“There is no try, Shel. Either do, or deez nuts.”

The door clicked behind us.