Mitch largely kept to himself in Atlantis. He was busy with his job in technology, and his little family required a lot of focus and attention. It unfortunately meant that he really didn’t get out all that much. And, really, he felt it was hard for anyone to blame him for that, given the wild shenanigans that were so often underfoot on the island. It seemed fitting, truthfully, that stepping out to do some holiday shopping would end up with him in the predicament he was in now: stuck under mistletoe with no familiar faces around. He sighed, settling in -- he figured that, if nothing else, he could possibly just out-stubborn the plant’s charm and wait until it moved on and changed location.
Christmas was by far Brigitte's favorite holiday. She enjoyed the costumes and decorations of Halloween, but the overall jovial spirit of goodwill and generosity that came with Christmas was something special. She could lay a part of that on having a large, loving family, and another part on Reinhardt for visiting every season with stories of battle and protecting the meek. She'd made a point to get out early to do some Christmas shopping (or Christmas browsing, really, she didn't have much money) and her mind was wandering somewhat. So it was no real surprise when she bumped into someone. She turned and found a wall of a man, dark and tattooed - someone she even had to look slightly up (not much, but enough to get her attention) at. She was more used to accidentally bowling people over, so this was a surprise. "Oh! Sorry!"
Mitch was looking at his tablet, trying to pass the time a little quicker in his attempts to out-stubborn the mistletoe, so he didn’t notice the woman until she’d bumped into him. Reaching out, he offered a hand to try to stabilize her, but she seemed pretty steady on her feet in spite of the bump. “No need, are you alright?” he asked. “Sorry, I’m trying to will this mess away,” he gestured overhead, “and it’s got me stuck in an inconvenient place.”
Brigitte glanced up and saw what he'd been referring to. She flushed slightly, because of course she did. But she was nothing if not bold. A battle squire afraid of charging in would never get very far, after all. "I'm fine! Believe me, I have taken much harder hits than that. But I don't think willing it away will work," she noted, putting away her own tablet (after closing a few notes on armor design and several cat pictures). She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and raised her chin (heroically). "I might be able to help you?"
Mitch had spent so much of his time in lock-up, so these types of more innocent moments of social awkwardness were definitely not his forte. He winced a little at her blush, because he certainly hadn’t tried to pull anyone else into his predicament. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss. Really. I don’t want to put that kind of random awkward on you,” he said, apologetically offering a smile.
"Christmas is about helping others. Being a knight-errant is about helping others. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I walked away, leaving you stranded here," answered Brigitte, feeling more confident by the second. With that she moved closer to Mitch, ensuring that she, too, was close enough to be caught under the mistletoe with him. "Shall we?" she asked, adding a challenging little smile as she looked at him.
At that, Mitch laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He appreciated a confident woman -- a confident anyone, really -- and also appreciated the effort she was taking. When she moved closer, he smiled back. “I guess we must now,” he responded, good-natured in spite of the weirdness. And, because now there really wasn’t any sense in protesting, he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.
Closing her eyes (why did she close her eyes, that seemed so stereotypical), Brigitte returned the kiss while placing her hands on his hips (oh, was that okay?). It wasn't a long or drawn out kiss, because of course they didn't know each other, but she did find that she enjoyed it. Large men were usually the gentlest. When he pulled away, she opened her eyes again and smiled as the mistletoe was no longer anywhere to be seen. "Duty served," she noted, giving Mitch a little wink.