Stars and Boulevards is now on hold because I just had to write this. Between the kiss and tumblr and all the Christmas music I've been listening to, this fic was a ticking time bomb that finally just exploded. Embrace it, my friends.
Disclaimer: Unlike the 2400 Christmas CDs I own, Sam and Cat does not belong to me. But I've been a good girl this year, so we'll see.
Mistletoe
It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas
Sam throws open the door to her apartment and faces a rather strange scene in front of her. Strange things are pretty common where she lives, considering her roommate is none other than Cat Valentine. Between the two of them, strange things seem to have become the unofficial third part of their duo. She shuts the door behind her and leans against it, just taking her roommate in as she saunters around the apartment, ancient-looking garlands and twinkling Christmas lights piled high in her small arms. Over their speakers, "All I Want for Christmas Is You" is blaring throughout the apartment and Cat is singing quietly to herself in her rich, gentle voice. Sam has only heard Cat sing a handful of times before, and every time the power and emotion in the girl's voice never ceases to amaze her.
"Whatcha doing, kid?" Sam asks, shaking her head to clear it of its traitorous, affectionate thoughts toward the redhead.
Cat whirls around, dropping her armful of random decorations in surprise, "Good, you're back! Did you get my text?"
Sam's hand finds her phone in her back pocket and pulls it out. On the screen, a single message from Cat sits waiting for her, reading "Pick up a Christmas tree on your way home!"
"So did you get it?" Cat says hopefully, almost bouncing with excitement.
Sam spreads her arms out wide, "Does it look like I have a tree?"
Cat's eyebrows furrow over previously hopeful brown eyes, "Darn. Oh well. We still have plenty of decorations."
She practically skips across their apartment to where an old cardboard box is resting on their kitchen table, filled to the brim with garlands and lights and wreaths and bows and nearly every Christmas decoration known to man. Sam selects an ornament at random and eyes it doubtfully.
"This is pretty old stuff," she says, tossing the ornament away carelessly.
"I know," Cat shrugs. "It's my Nona's stuff. I wanted to get new decorations but I spent the money on…something else."
She seems uncharacteristically lost in thought for a moment before re-entering her usual state of excitement and grabbing Sam's hand pleadingly. "Will you help me decorate, please? It'll be so much fun!"
Sam's traitorous heart is at it again and it flutters with delight when Cat rubs her thumb against her rough knuckles. Stifling her dumb emotions, she yanks her hand out of Cat's grasp and tries to be as reluctant as possible. But even though Cat's not touching her anymore, the girl has so many ways she can get to Sam. Her eyes, so pleading and deep, have stripped Sam down to her core and she knows that the only way her emotions will stop going haywire is for her to just give in.
"Fine." How bad could decorating really be?
Sam hates decorating. To be fair, she hasn't really decorated much in the past, what with her mom being her mom and everything. But Cat is insistent on everything being perfect and is being extremely pushy for someone whose voice is softer than cotton candy. The only redeeming factor is that Cat's favorite Christmas song is "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" which is always catchy and sounds even better when it's Cat herself singing it. The entire apartment is throbbing with Christmas carols reverberating through its tiny expanse and inch by inch, Christmas is starting to overtake the apartment. Wreaths are hung up on every door, the sliding glass doors have been airbrushed with fake snow, garlands are strung up over every possible surface so the whole apartment looks like some sort of Christmas forest gone wrong, and random ornaments dot the apartment wherever Cat saw fit.
"String this up over there," Cat says, tossing a long string of gold and red plastic ornaments over to Sam and gesturing to the cabinets encircling the kitchen.
Sam doesn't bother protesting (she tried that already when Cat insisted on having colored Christmas lights all over their room and decided that it'd be less painful to just let her have her way) and begins lining the cabinets with the rather tacky decoration.
"Why the sudden need to decorate anyway?" Sam asks casually.
"Sam!" Cat chides from where she's hanging stockings behind the couch. "Christmas is only a week away! Don't tell me you forgot about Christmas!"
Her tone implies that forgetting Christmas is the near equivalent of forgetting your own name or kicking a kitten. But Sam always has a nasty habit of forgetting important things like Christmas and birthdays and which fried chicken place has the good deal on Fridays. She throws a smile over her shoulder and Cat meets her eye just in time to smile back. This is one of the best things of being Sam and Cat. They're in tune with each other, and they always know when to catch each other's gaze and exchange a secret, loving best friend smile.
"Let's do outside next," Cat decides in a voice that leaves no room for argument, after looking away and putting the finishing touches on her decorations.
She gathers up a tangle of Christmas lights in her arms and hurries over to where Sam carelessly finishes her stringing of those ever-tacky ornaments. Cat inspects it for a moment before deciding that it meets her approval and links her arm through Sam's. Sam can never fully understand how they end up like this, always touching and always millimeters away from one another. Together, they make their way outside and Cat tosses the bundle on the ground before examining the door with an overly serious expression masking her features. Sam just hangs back and watches, crossing her arms to keep from getting too impatient. The music is still playing from inside their apartment, albeit slightly muffled now, but Sam can still pick up the words and the beat, and Cat is still singing quietly to herself as she ponders over their front door intently.
"Hey, can you give me a boost?" She says finally, as if this is the most casual question in the world.
"What?" Sam barks back, not even attempting to hide her surprise.
"Boost me up?" Cat repeats, slightly more uncertain this time. "I wanna put the lights over our door. It'd be so pretty! Please, Sam please, I'll do anything!"
And there's that tone again. That stupid, pleading, adoring tone that Cat always uses to get under Sam's skin. Sam is pretty sure Cat knows exactly what she's doing to her, and yet, Sam just allows it to keep happening. Whatever spell Cat has put her under, it's very powerful and blinds Sam to the point where she doesn't even realize how hooked she is. But when she does, it scares her. Yet she still does nothing about it.
With a noise of disgust, Sam rolls her eyes and comes to stand by Cat, crouching down so the smaller girl can clamber up her back. "Get on. And don't pull my hair."
"Kay, kay!" Cat replies joyfully, throwing her arms around Sam's neck and looping her legs around her waist.
Sam pulls herself back up to her full height, surprised at how little Cat weighs and how warm she is pressed against her. As if struck by lightning, she is suddenly and painfully aware of Cat touching her; her fingers brushing the skin of her neck, her legs wrapped securely around her waist, and her chin resting on her shoulder. Sam shakes her head again, disgusted by her own mind, and bucks Cat up a little higher, just to jostle her for putting her through this. She knows, somewhere within the recesses of her mind, that this isn't technically Cat's fault. But still, it feels good to maintain at least a little control over the situation. Meanwhile, Cat's perched on her back, giggling away as she fumbles with the Christmas lights. She tosses part of the strand over the doorway and tugs the rest of it across the frame until it drapes the entire door in unlit Christmas lights.
"Done yet?" Sam asks in a tone she can only hope implies impatience.
"Yup!" Her friend responds with her usual cheer. "I'm gonna jump down, don't trip me!"
Yet, of course, the second she jumps down, she catches Sam's leg with one of hers and the two of them go toppling to the ground. Cat lets out a squeal of surprise as she lands right on top of Sam, her arms splayed out around her and her face buried in Sam's hair. Underneath her, Sam grumbles incoherently and struggles to sit up. Her entire face is burning and she curses herself for being so disgustingly emotional. One of their neighbors who is hurrying by on his way to his apartment down the hall stops bustling for a moment and looks down at them curiously.
"Keep walking," Sam orders threateningly, although she knows she must not seem so while pinned underneath Cat.
He hurries away and Cat finally realizes that she is, in fact, on top of Sam and lying sprawled against her stomach with their legs tangled and her face in Sam's splaying hair.
"This would only happen to us," Cat laughs as she stands up and dusts herself off Her eyebrows knit together and her laugh disappears from her face when she catches a glimpse of her roommate. "Are you okay? You look pale."
She reaches down, offers Sam a hand, and tries to help her to her feet, though it's Sam doing most of the work. "I'm fine, kid. The lights look nice."
Cat, naturally, immediately forgets about Sam's apparent discomfort and turns back to her handiwork with glee. "I know! Let's light them up and then we can go watch Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!"
She reaches down and plugs the cord of the lights into a nearby outlet and the entire door lights up in twinkling, joyful lights. In the dark of the courtyard outside their apartment, the lights look like stars on a bleak night. Sam smiles to herself in the glow of the Christmas lights; as far as decorating goes, maybe tonight wasn't so bad after all. Next to her, Cat stares at the lights in silent awe.
"So," Sam says after deciding that maybe Cat has had enough pretty lights for one night. "How about that movie?"
Twenty minutes later finds the pair on the couch, each with a mug of hot chocolate in hand and with a blanket covering their tangled legs. Sam had decided long ago that the movie Cat had selected (The Year Without A Santa Claus) was extremely dumb, but she didn't bother to say anything. Other than her friend's crappy choice in movies, she didn't have cause for complaint. The cocoa was good, she had her most comfortable pajama pants on, and her best friend was by her side. All in all, it had been a pretty good night thus far.
"Are you cold?" Cat asks, taking a break in laughing at whatever ridiculousness had just appeared on screen and turning to Sam.
"Not really," she replies, taking a long sip from her mug and wiping her lips, decidedly satisfied.
"Oh. I am."
Then Cat turns back to her movie, as if forgetting that the entire conversation never took place at all. Sam rides it off as typical Cat and goes back to thinking about all the Christmases before this one, how different they had all been. It had snowed one Christmas, years ago back in Seattle, with Carly and Freddie and Spencer and that day would be one she would never forget. She remembered sleeping over at Carly's that Christmas Eve and waking up to find snow pouring from the heavens in thick, white, wonderful clumps. And they had all gone outside and she'd put snow down Freddie's…
"What are you doing?" Sam yelps, looking down at Cat, who's now practically on top of her again.
"Cuddling," Cat replies without looking up. "I'm cold."
"But you're literally on me," Sam says, and realizes that she might be saying this a lot to this girl.
And it's true. Cat has somehow wormed her way around Sam so she has both legs thrown around her, her hand intertwined with Sam's, and her head resting against Sam's shoulder. If Cat's cold, Sam thinks dismally, she won't be for long. Sam's body temperature has probably jumped at least one hundred and thirty degrees in the past three seconds.
"Please?" Cat begs again, and Sam wonders if this is all Cat really knows how to do. For a girl who can't make soup, she's surprisingly masterful at getting what she wants. "I'm cold. And tired. And I won't ask for anything else tonight."
Sam highly doubts that and she's ready to say no, because she's done so much for Cat already tonight. She's let herself play along with Cat all night long and although it has been, all things considered, a very enjoyable night, she still has an image to maintain. She can't allow Cat to sink her hold any deeper, can't allow herself to fall any further. She has to revert back to being callous and biting, knowing full well that it may hurt Cat, but she always makes up for it later. She has to save herself first, before devoting herself to Cat. She often feels like she's part of a sick tug-of-war, half of her fighting to save herself from Cat and the other half wanting to fall deeper. All in all, she has no idea what's going on, what she wants, or even what Cat herself wants.
But it seems she doesn't have to worry about Cat anymore. Curled up against her, with her legs tucked gently against Sam and her hand clasping hers, Cat has fallen asleep with her head resting lovingly on Sam's shoulder. Her long lashes flutter like butterfly's wings against her cheeks and her face looks purely at peace, relaxed and content. Sam sighs loudly, slouching down against the couch in defeat and glaring down at the girl asleep against her. Even without knowing, Cat has gotten her way again. It's enough to make Sam want to get up and leave her here alone on this accursed, uncomfortable couch. But just as Sam is about to retreat to the bedroom, Cat mumbles something incoherently and burrows deeper against Sam's neck. A rush of emotion and sympathy immediately overtakes Sam and she hurries to stifle it. She admits to herself, somewhat irritably, that there's no escaping Cat for tonight, except through sleep.
She shuts off the TV and the room plunges in darkness, a welcome relief so she won't have to look down and see Cat clutching her and nuzzling her in her sleep. Sam shuts her eyes and tries to relax, forcing out thoughts of Cat's touch and her perfume wafting off of her. But even with her eyes shut, she can still picture Cat smiling at her, laughing and full of joy, as they stood side by side, hanging up Christmas decorations together. And, maybe, despite all her biting sarcasm and swirling, revolting emotions, just maybe, Sam is actually looking forward to Christmas with Cat.
There ya have it folks! Chapter 1 of a Christmas fic in November. But come on, it's my first Christmas shipping Puckentine (all of ours, actually) and we should do something great to commemorate it. So, go on, post that fanart and those edits and some cute, fluffy fics. Seize the day. Take it from me.
And besides, with my notorious writing reputation, this story won't be finished until Christmas anyway.
All I Want for Christmas is You (To Review).