A/n: Just a Christmas Lackson to get all you Christmas-celebrators in the mood for presents :) Happy Christmas!
Lillian Truscott hated Tuesdays.
It was the hardboiled truth that she couldn't seem to get around: Tuesdays were days sent by Satan. So it was just her luck that Christmas landed on a Tuesday this year.
Mondays she could get through. She would wake up tired, and annoyed, but managed to get through the day knowing that the weekend would be there soon. But Tuesdays werepointless. They were keeping her from Wednesday, which was the middle of the week; therefore closer to Friday! She had to get up and moan and groan the whole entire day, knowing she still had three days left. It was absolutely aggravating.
Although, as aggravating as it was to Lilly, it was even more so to her friends. Lilly Truscott was a strong willed, passionate, fiery person. And when she was in a mood, everyone knew. Everyone. When it was a upset mood, problems issued.
"Cheer up, Lils, it's Christmas!"
Lilly groaned as she flopped down on her bed, holding the receiver to her ear. She rested her head on her pillow, and picked up her knitting needles. She was working on a pair of socks, for her best friend's husband, who happened to be her other best friend. They were halfway done today, on Christmas. She tended to procrastinate.
In fact, her procrastination was a big problem. She never could get herself to get places on time, especially on Tuesdays. But she only procrastinated doing things she didn't want. When she did want something, she dive right in to get it irrationally, without a second thought. Which was maybe why she was seemingly poor.
"So? I'm stuck here, in my rat infested apartment, while you and yourwife," She snickered at the word, "have fun at Mr. Stewart's house. I bet he's making ham, isn't he? His honey ham that's so good. Isn't he?"
Oliver Oken coughed uncomfortably before blurting out, "Pecan-honey glazed ham. With sweet potatoes, and mashed potatoes, and all those other potatoes. With steak, and pie, and muffins, and corn, and—
"I get it, Oken." Lilly groaned, tossing her knitting needles at her small television. He didn't deserve any socks, she decided, "You and Miley will be eating it up with all that family around, whilst I wither away to nothing...eating microwavable meals in front of my radio all alone...on a Tuesday."
Lilly heard someone, most likely Miley, scream something that sounded quite menacing at Oliver, before he replied, "In front of your radio? I thought you're supposed to eat those in front of the TV?"
She snorted in sullen way, "I have no more cable. So unless I want to watch static electricity, than it's the radio!"
More screaming from the background. Lilly could of sworn she caught the words "chained to a chair" and "jail" and"martyrdom" and also "Dammit Oliver Oscar Oken! Get your damn clothes on! I know you have clothes on, but I mean something that actually looks clean!"
Lilly snorted in amusement. She found Oliver's misery slightly humorous, seeing as though he usually was so happy it made her throw up.
"You may be the lucky one," Oliver whispered into the phone before screaming to his wife, "I KNOW! I'M GETTING READY! I'M GETTING READY, LAY OFF WOMAN! WE'LL GET THERE IN TIME AND WE WON'T MISS OUR FLIGHT—ARE YOU THROWING FRYING PANS AT ME, MILEY OKEN?! AHHH! THAT'S ATTACHED I TELL YOU! LET GO OF MY NECK!"
Lilly didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or call for help.
"LILLY, I HAVE TO GO! MERRY CHRISTMAS! TRY TO GET YOUR PARENTS TO COME HOME EARLY SO YOU'RE NOT ALONE!"
And he hung up. Lilly sighed and tossed her phone at the wall with more force than actually intended, causing it to break.
"No!" She cried, staring at the broken phone. She'd have to work double shifts now to get another phone. She pulled her pillow over her head in misery, wondering how this Christmas, on a Tuesday, get any worse.
She worked at Starbucks, Barnes and Noble, and watched the kids that lived in the apartment next to hers on weekends. She had a degree in art, but hadn't actually gotten a good job yet. She wanted to teach art at a high school, but there were no positions available in Malibu at the moment. So she was stuck only getting two hours of sleep per night. And because this was Malibu, apartments were expensive. So she had to work the best to meet ends meet.
Mr. Stewart moved back to Tennessee after Miley and Oliver got married two years back. Oliver and Miley lived down there for a year, then moved up to San Fransisco. They still went back every Thanksgiving and Christmas, and spent a while there. Oliver didn't even have to work, because Miley had so much money already from her Hannah days. Which, as she now ran her own recording company, they had more money than they'd ever need. Of course they'd offered Lilly a lot of money, but she didn't take charity.
She would rather work nights on end than take handouts.
Jackson lived somewhere up in northern California. He owned his own surfing shop, and that's all Lilly had heard about him in a while. Her parents had seen him at a gas station on their way up to Seattle, and promptly called Lilly.
Currently, Lilly was sitting on her threadbare couch watching the static electricity. She stared at long enough, wondering if it was normal to see flames in the fuzziness. Or hatchets. Maybe it was an omen...? Maybe one of those psycho killers was going to knock on her door and ask to use her phone, then slaughter her. Like the ones on Unsolved Murders. She used to watch that show every Tuesday (the only thing that made her Tuesdays even halfway decent) but since the bill for cable got to expensive, she hadn't been able to catch the next season.
Almost as if she'd had a premonition, a hard knock came upon her door. Lilly couldn't stop a scream from coming out of her mouth, and she jumped two feet in the air.
"Who's t-there?" She called nervously, cautiously standing up from her couch.
"It's me!" An unfamiliar voice called out above the Martin's screaming from next door. It's who?! What if this guy was a new killer?! A "it's me" killer! The one who stalks you and figures out who to pretend to be, then when you let them in, they slaughter you! With a burning hatchet! Like she'd seen in her static electricity!
"I don't know who you are!" Lilly screamed, her voice sounding much more high pitched than normal. The person knocked again,
"It'sme, Jackson Stewart!"
Ha! Of course the killer would pretend to be Jackson! That's the only person that wasn't due to be Tennessee until later. His flight was at noon!
Lilly glanced at her clock. It was one in the afternoon! This killer was an idiot! She'd caught his lie!
"Liar! Jackson is on a plane to Tennessee, you "it's me" burning hatchet killer!" Lilly yelled, reaching her phone to call 911. Oops, she realized with a jolt, she'd thrown it against the wall.
"...what? Lilly come on, this isn't funny, it's really cold and smelly out here! Let me in!"
The killer thought she'd fall for that? They weren't very smart. She was Lillian Truscott, master detective, she wouldn't fall for that. But wait, maybe she could catch the killer! If she caught him, she'd get a reward, than be able to get cable and watch Unsolved Murders again! All she needed was a trap...a trap...
A evil grin came across her face. She needed to keep him at the door while she got it together.
"What did I get you for Christmas last year?" She called, knowing good and well she didn't get him a present. A killer would try to guess something, while the real person would say she didn't get him anything.
"I don't remember!" The killer screamed.
Oh, he was good. He went for the bad memory gig. Well, she wasn't buying it.
"Okay, hold on, let me get dressed!" She called back, snickering to herself. She was about to get an extensive reward. She ran into her kitchen area, and dug through the drawers. She searched and searched until she pulled out some clear fishing wire, clear tape, scissors, chopsticks, and ran on the couch and got a sheet off it.
She cut a piece of the clear fishing wire off, and tied one end to the door stopper behind her front door. Then she pulled it across and tied the other end to her TV table. It stretched directly across the area the killer would walk, and was invisible. She snickered to herself.
She placed a sheet on the ground where he would fall, and took the chopsticks. She took some clear tape and positioned the chopsticks so they were facing up. He'd get so scared falling down, that he'd pass out, and all she'd have to do would be tie him him up in the sheet.
She grasped the scissors in her hand, just in case.
"Are you ready yet?" He called in.
"Yes." She said innocently. She reached over and unlocked the door.
"It's unlocked!"
It all happened very fast from there. The door opened to reveal that it really was Jackson. He took a step forward.
"Noooo!" Lilly screamed, shoving him as he tripped, so he fell directly beside the sheet with the chopsticks that were supposed to impale him. In the process, she'd tripped over her own chopsticks, and landed halfway on him, halfway off.
It was suddenly really quiet.
"Are you insane?!" He screamed, jumping up. She giggled from where she was laying. He shook his head, and extended a hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her up.
"I thought you were a burning hatchet killer." She replied, as though that made perfect sense. He stared at her,
"Awhat?"
"I was staring into the static electricity on my TV, and I saw flames and hatchets, than I got thinking about murderers, and then you knocked, so I assumed you were a flaming hatchet killer." She explained.
His mouth was gaping open, and he said, "Sorry, what?!"
She sighed, "It's Tuesday."
"Oh! Why didn't you just say so?" Jackson asked, suddenly very cheerful. He remembered her issue with Tuesdays. He suddenly felt kind of awkward, and wished he wouldn't have shown up. Lilly, however, was glad for the company.
"I hate Tuesdays, too." He stated to her, smiling slightly.
"I remember." She said, smiling back.
"It's just they're so—
"Useless!" They cried in unison.
Lilly gasped, jumping up and down, "Yes! Someone else understands my dilemma! And to have Christmas on a Tuesday—
"Is like getting punished for something! Getting punished cruelly!" Jackson exclaimed, feeling a little too glad to see her so happy.
"Yeah! Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to be in Tennessee with your dad and the Okens?" Lilly snickered, like she did every time she mentioned Miley and Oliver being married.
Jackson sighed and answered with, "It's Tuesday."
"Ah, missed your flight?" Lilly said sympathetically. Jackson nodded,
"Yep. And I didn't really want to be all alone on Christmas. And then I got to thinking that you were alone too and that maybe—
"We could be alone, but together?" She answered. He nodded sheepishly,
"I mean, if you want. I just heard that you were alone for Christmas and—
"That's really nice of you, Jackson." Lilly cut him off, smiling at him. He scratched the back of his neck, then gestured to her place.
"So...uh...nice...living area."
Lilly snorted, "Nice living area? Honestly, Jackson. Don't they teach you any better compliments up north?"
She sat back down where she had been sitting formerly, patting the area beside her. Jackson sat down, suddenly feeling a little more at home.
"Not really. Of course, none of them had such a wonder as Lilly Truscott to try and compliment, either."
She flushed lightly, "There you go. That's a better compliment. There's hope for you yet."
"Even if it's a Tuesday?" He asked. She grinned,
"Especially if it's a Tuesday."
Silence kicked in, and Lilly sighed. Jackson didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe that after a year of being away from his little sister's best friend, that they clicked so well.
"Do you want to finger paint?" Lilly blurted out suddenly. He grinned.
"Yea! Do you have paints and paper and all that?"
Lilly vaguely commented to herself that Jackson was the only guy who'd finger paint with her, and actually have fun doing it.
"Yep! Go wait in there," She pointed at the kitchen area with it's tile floor already stained with various paint colors. He walked in there, while she ran into her bedroom. She reached under her bed and brought out her giant box full off paints. Then she pulled out a long roll of white paper.
Walking back into the kitchen, she thought of his smile and how it made her stomach jump.
"Here it is!" She exclaimed, proudly. She set down the paper and the box. Jackson eagerly opened the box while Lilly tore off a big piece of paper and laid it between them. She squirted out some black paint on a paper plate, and swirled her finger around in it. Then, she drew a black line across the paper.
"First one to fill up their side of the paper with drawings wins! Ready, set, go!"
Most guys would take a few minutes to realize what she had said, but Jackson just realized his inner-child, and they both set to work.
Jackson drew the ocean, while Lilly drew the sun. When Jackson was drawing a Christmas tree, Lilly was drawing a Palm. And so it went on, for hours it seemed, until Jackson filled the last open space with a his hand print.
Stained and exuberant, he looked up. Lilly frowned, trying to find a way he cheated. But alas, he'd won. Fair and square.
"I won! What did I win?"
Maybe it was the fact that it was Christmas. Maybe it was the paint fumes. Maybe it was because it was a Tuesday, but Lilly found herself falling in love with him right then in there. She couldn't tell you why she did, it was just a feeling. She justknew, staring at him covered in her paint, that he was the only one she ever wanted to finger paint with again. And it was because of that, that she leaned over, and pressed her lips to his paint-smeared ones.
He was shocked for more than just the fact she was kissing him. He was shocked for what he realized the moment her lips touched his softly. That she was absolutely wonderful, and that he was in love with her. He was often really slow about realizing things, but this just hit him like suddenly. Like a disease you don't even know you have, until it's killing you.
As he brought his wet, painted hands up and ran them through her hair, on her arms, around her waist (paint marking everywhere his hands had been), Lilly realized the plus side of always being irrational. And Jackson realized the plus side to being slow about things until they hit him in the face. But more than anything, they both realized that maybe Tuesdays weren't so bad after all.
Suddenly, they heard the worst sound in the world.
"--YOUR FAULT! SOMETIMES I JUST WONDER WHY I MARRIED YOU! YOU'RE IRRESPONSIBLE, COMPLETELY UNRELIABLE, AND YET I LOVE YOU TO DEATH! GOSH, I'M OFFICIALLY CRAZY!"
Jackson and Lilly flew apart, each staring hesitantly at the door of her apartment.
"LILLY! HELP ME!" Oliver screamed from outside the door.
"What are they doing here?" Jackson asked, fear in his eyes. Lilly shrugged, remembering she didn't lock her apartment door back. Suddenly, she was worried she'd keep forgetting and a murderer would get her, but as Jackson smiled at her and hesitantly took her hand, she knew she'd always be safe.
The door opened, and the bickering married couple walked in, dragging luggage.
"--every time. You'd think I'd learn, but no! Sometimes I just want to kill you! Making us miss our flight! Do you know how sad my dad's gonna be? No, you don't!" Miley huffed at Oliver, pushing the door shut "accidentally" on his foot.
Oliver winced then smiled at Lilly, "Hey, Lils. Mind if we crash here for Christmas? Why are you and Jackson..."
He trailed off, noticing their paint stained lips and the blueish purple hand prints on various parts of his friend.
Miley stopped her rant and looked up too, "Oh. Looks like someone has been having good Tuesday."
Jackson and Lilly shook their heads, "No Tuesday can be good. It's not possible."
Miley just smirked as Jackson looked at Lilly and smiled at her. Then she rounded on Oliver again. He winced before she even started,
"You see? Why can't you be romantic like that? You were never! Oh, I thought I'd see the day when I asked you to take a leaf out of Jackson's book, but here I am asking it! God, sometimes I just wonder why..."
Lilly smirked as Oliver and Miley started arguing again. She caught Jackson's eye and they grinned at each other.
The rest of that Christmas may not be so bad after all.
Even if it was on a Tuesday.