Emmet Xmas Fluff

>Emmet sighed as he brushed a dusting of snow off the windowsill
>How a window had been left open in such snowy weather was beyond him.
>Sir always enjoyed a nice breeze, but getting hypothermia was definitely not a preferable option
>The blizzard had come in fast according to the TV, blanketing an otherwise normal day in a heavy layer of white.
>Sir had passed it off as nothing to worry about.
>"It helped make everything festive" Sir had told Emmet, waving off any concerns about maintaining the lawn that desperately needed trimming.

>Finishing the impromptu indoor snow-clearing, Emmet went off in search of Sir for any more jobs that needed doing.
>Despite the winter skies growing dark around 2pm, Emmet could still tell it was nearly dinner-time.
>As Emmet moved through the house, he couldn’t help but admire the various photographs lining the hallways.
>Pictures going all the way back to when Emmet was first introduced into the family as a "big brother" for the young Sir was on the higher sections of the walls.
>Even as people left or were cruelly taken by time, Emmet had been there to support his master. Now this big house only had two occupants; a young Sir and his Botler.

>As Emmet approached the Parlour, he could hear the tell-tale sound of Sir's snoring.
>Sir had insisted for years he was a silent sleeper, but his night-time noises were responsible for many a false-alarm for Emmet's nocturnal intruder alarms.

>Slowly peeking his head around the door-frame, the sight was almost enough to melt Emmet's gold-alloy heart.
>Passed out in front of the TV as some old Christmas film played, splayed out on the sofa, was his master.
>The sound of snoring emanated even louder from Sir's tilted back head, gently accentuated by the slow rhythm of his breathing.
>Emmet smirked and weakly shook his head at the uselessness of his master's current state.
>Given Sir's hectic work schedule, his Christmas break couldn't have come soon enough to give him some well-deserved rest.
>Checking the clock, Emmet saw there was plenty of time before dinner, deciding to give Sir the extra nap-time.

>Emmet tip-toed (as much as one can without proper feet) over to his master's side, deftly removing the remote from his loose grip to turn the television off, leaving only the crackle of the nearby lit fireplace and the sound of snow-fall to fill the room
>Looking back to Sir's sleeping form on the couch, Emmet tilted his head to the side. He wondered if Sir might feel cold, just lying there.
>Getting a blanket from the folded pile in the corner (knocking the rest loose, much to Emmet's chagrin), Emmet gently draped it over Sir's body, leaving his upper chest and head exposed from the patchwork cover.
>While Emmet knew Sir would now be nice and cosy while he was gone, something compelled him to stay.
>Seeing Sir at rest struck a chord in the Botler. It reminded him of a very long time ago, when times were less kind.
>Back then Sir would wake with a start, leading Emmet to watch over his young master while he slept; just in-case re-assurance was required.
>He'd obviously not needed to do such a thing in years, but it felt right to keep an eye on Sir at the moment.
>The few miniscule tasks needed to do before dinner could wait, Emmet decided, as he gently slunk onto the couch by his master.
>"As long as I don’t lean on him, he should rest comfortably still" Emmet thought, placing himself a generous distance from his owner's sleeping form.
>Despite having his own internal temperature regulator, being close to the cosily-warm pile of human and blanket next to him put Emmet in a peculiar state of ease.
>Emmet felt his eye-lids growing heavier. He was sure he'd need to get that checked, but it oddly didn't feel urgent, as Emmet's vision darkened.


A Little While Later:

>Anon woke gently from his nap as he realised what had happened.
>The movie had been such a bore, but it was still tradition to watch it.
>He didn't remember grabbing a blanket though...
>As anon looked around, he quickly saw the culprit for his current condition.
>Reclined with his head gently leaning on Anon's shoulder was the small shape of Emmet.
>Emmet had always done his best to take care of Anon, even when it was unappreciated.
>Looking over at the clock, Anon knew it was way past dinner-time.
>Not feeling particularly hungry, Anon decided it didn't really matter anyways; he could always sneak something from the kitchen (if Emmet didn't bap him with a newspaper again for it).
>The rhythm of the snowfall and crackle of the fireplace made things dangerously soothing.
>Realising his powerlessness to stay awake like, this, Anon wrapped an arm around Emmet, bringing him closer to his chest while using his other arm to move some of the blanket over the both of them.
>After making sure they were both in a comfortable position, Anon quickly let his nap continue.
>Now the only thing in their small little world was the crackle of the fire, and the patter of the snow against the window.
>And some snoring, of course.