It was a winter evening in the secret safe-house where Rachael Reynard kept her loot, her baby, and her sphinx when her sphinx approached the raccoon thief after they watched a marathon of schmaltzy Christmas movies together.

“I wish to purchase you a seasonal sentimental gift,” Felicity told Rachael.

Rachael blinked. “You want to get me a Christmas gift?”

That didn’t sound right. Nobody got Rachael Christmas gifts. Partially because she didn’t really have close friends, family, or confidants and also because she was on the naughty list for stealing Christmas, that one time.

But things were different now. She’d Rachael-bumbled her way into convincing the Oracle of the mountain to leave her job and live with her. And now they were a sort of family. Rachael, her baby, and an unrelated woman who helped her take care of said baby. Man, that was so sweet, it belonged on a greeting card.

“Um, okay! Just fish around in the money couch for money,” Rachael suggested.

“No, that will not do!” Felicity protested strongly. Or as strong as her habitually soft voice allowed. “I must earn the money myself. Television has shown me this.”

“Earn… money… and buy something… for someone else? These are some wild ideas you’re throwing around,” Rachael said, rubbing her chin. “I’m not sure how one goes about getting a legal job.”

“Never fear, my young friend Sadie once helped me obtain employment as a provocative image on a milk carton. Surely, she can help me again.”

--

“Of course I can help. And don’t call me Shirley,” Sadie said into her cellphone, sticking her tongue out in jest.

Then she sat through Felicity explaining that some words sound like other words so it may have sounded like she was calling Sadie by the wrong name but, actually, she was not.

“Anyyyyyyway,” said Sadie, re-railing the conversation. She scrolled through the special email she had set up for Felicity model work. “As your agent, I’ve been getting a lot of offers for you and I’ve been ignoring them! Figured you were retired or whatever since you were eloped with your raccoon wife.”

Then Sadie sat through Felicity explaining that her relationship to Rachael was hard to define as it came about from very complicated circumstances but that, nevertheless, they were both important to each other.

“Anyyyyyyyyyyyyywayyyyyyyy, most of the job offers are to do porn. And you’re probably not interested in that… unless? Okay. So there are some offers in here for more sexy modeling work and even a few that aren’t past the deadline to respond.”

Then Sadie sat through Felicity explaining that she trusted Sadie’s judgement.

“I mean… I wouldn’t,” Sadie giggled, as she picked the funniest option available.

--

Later, at a photoshoot that was not in a stinky barn…

Peter, the porcine photographer, explained the new product. The makers of Exotic Milk wanted a slice of a certain well-selling seasonal beverage.

“We’re gonna call it Eggsoticnog!” he proclaimed.

Which certainly explained the mini-skirted Santa dress he’d told Felicity to wear. The skirt was barely long enough to cover her butt and the top showed a lot of cleavage. Felicity looked adorable in it. Sadie would be mighty tempted to buy anything Festive Felicity showed up on… except…

Sadie held her folded hands with fingers pointing up in front of her mouth - a classic thinking pose.

“A problem occurs,” she said solemnly. “Your milk stank so bad that nobody could even swallow it. Even with a sexy Santa sphinx on the carton, nobody is going to buy stinky nog.”

“Pssh, a ‘problem’ easily solved with creative problem solving!” exclaimed the photographer. “Delivery of eggnog to Mach-o-Mart, eh, fell off the truck. Poor nog, so abandoned. We put it in our carton. Oh no, Mach-o-Mart has nog shortage somehow. Boom! We got good nog, good carton, make all the money!”

“That’s certainly a business plan,” agreed Sadie noncommittally. How many trucks of misplaced eggnog would it take to actually make money on this endeavor? Sadie was not a business student. But Felicity - and therefore Sadie - were getting paid upfront so Sadie didn’t actually care.

“Smile for the camera!” Sadie suggested. “Oh, and lean a little forward. We want people to think about butts while drinking nog. Your cute tush.”

“Hey, nice yelling!” said Peter. “You ever think about getting into photography and telling pretty girls how to stand, you give ol’ Peter a call.”

“I prefer taking pictures of girls on a purely opportunistic and interpersonal basis and for my own personal amusement,” said the mouse.

The pig shrugged.

The competitive field of beverage marketing still made little sense to the sphinx. But at the end of it, she was glad to have earned another half envelope full of money.

--

“With the money I made by posing in a small dress, I bought yarn. And then I knit you a scarf,” Felicity said. She draped the amorphous yarn blob about Rachael’s neck. “I learned how by watching you.”

“Thank you,” Rachael said sincerely. It was easily the best and onliest Christmas present she had ever received. “And I got you a gift card to that pizza place you like. In case you wanted to get a pizza without a wacky scheme to bamboozle a delivery guy.”

“What a thoughtful gift,” Felicity said, equally sincerely.

---

After the Virginia tangle and that whole pulling a sleigh naked thing that Fanny is up to, this is the more sincere Christmas type picture. I mean, mostly. There’s a whole stolen nog, sexy marketing thing going on in the story that I made up for this picture. But at the core, it’s that Felicity wanted to do a nice thing to show her appreciation to Rachael.

And also that I thought it an interesting idea if Felicity still did some modeling now and again. She doesn’t really need the money because of the money couch and also because Rachael often just steals what she needs but Felicity likes to contribute.

---

Felicity the ex-Oracle owned by me
Art by  painterkirby