Well hi! Remember when I was all sappy and dramatic upon the end of "When Skies are Grey" and I was all, "Eh, idk if I'll write them again," etc. etc.? Well that was short-lived, wasn't it? LOL. If anyone is curious, I spent November writing for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and I won which felt amazing and it was also really refreshing to write something that was from my own creation and it was generally nice to just not write Spoby for a bit. But alas, I can't quit these two no matter how hard I try (seriously, I'm trying).

Anyway, I had an idea to write a little collection of holiday time vignettes for Christmas and so that's what I've been doing! The goal is to update with one of these little oneshots everyday until Christmas, but we'll see if I can actually get that done. That's what I'm hoping for, but who knows if real life will get in the way? Anyway, each little story is in its own universe; therefore, they are not connected in any way, shape or form. They are, however, themed around a different Christmas song each chapter and since we're doing a "Twelve Days of Christmas" theme, I started with, what else? "The Twelve Days of Christmas." I hope you enjoy!

(Actually, fun fact: the twelve days in the song are the twelve days starting with Christmas Day, or in some traditions, the day after Christmas (December 26th, Boxing Day), to the day before Epiphany, (January 6th), formerly the last day of the Christmas festivities and observed as a time of merriment, but like... Who wants to read a Christmas story after Christmas, am I right? So that's why I'm posting now because I'm Christmas af. Okay love you all bye).

on the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…

New York at Christmas time is absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful; the subject of many a Christmas movie, carol and even a headlining number in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular.

Unfortunately for Spencer Hastings, New York at Christmas time is also bone-chillingly freezing.

She's beginning to regret this morning run; maybe not the physical act itself, though. Running's always been her escape, a way to clear her mind and ease her stress and anxieties, and she's been so busy and so stressed out lately, she really, really needed this. She'd awoken nearly an hour ago, restless, and though today is her one day off this week, that had brought her nothing but dread upon the realization of all the tasks she still had to accomplish. Therefore, instead of jumping right into it, she'd decided to take the morning to herself and the run, so far, has been great; her heart pounding against her ribcage, icy air in her lungs, feet treading on the sleepy streets outside their apartment- that's all been awesome. But her fingers are numb and her eyelashes are frozen and the second she turns back onto 116th and Broadway, it starts to snow.

She has terrible timing, honestly.

One quick glance at the Columbia campus makes her dread and anxiety come flooding back into her veins. College, honestly, is no joke; five years ago, when she'd started undergrad in Georgetown, her very first professor for her very first class had greeted them by saying, "Welcome to your undergraduate years. Some of you will shine bright and some of you will fade and not make it out. Let the blood bath begin." It had incited a round of nervous laughter amongst them but the weeks went by and Spencer watched as more and more of her classmates dropped the class or left the school altogether, as she was struggling to balance her own coursework, internships and personal life so that she would not be one of them. Now, she's prepping for her final semester of graduate school and the work has gotten harder and the professors have gotten more grueling, but nothing else has changed.

She's shivering violently by the time their apartment comes into sight and she decides to stop at her regular Starbucks for a pick me up. It's nearing eight a.m. and if she hurries, she can catch Toby before he leaves for work; she makes a mental note of this and hastens her pace. It hasn't always been easy for them; college and the distance and all that. He hadn't followed her to Washington when she'd moved away for undergrad and they'd both been miserable the entire four years. He visited her when he found the chance, but she only came home for holidays and spent more time with him than her family when she did. They'd argued a lot; at times, it seemed they'd never recover. But if they'd learned anything from their teenage years, it's that communication is key, and as difficult as it was sometimes, they eventually found a way to convey their thoughts and feelings to one another with minimal damage. She'd been accepted into Columbia for her graduate degree upon her graduation from Georgetown, he'd enrolled in a few architecture classes at a CUNY school not much further and found a job with a local firm, and they'd solved their distance problem at once.

Taking time to defrost, Spencer places her order with the cashier and steps aside to wait for her milk of the Gods. Her relationship with caffeine is the longest one she's had in her life, Toby and her friends included. She's honestly not sure how she'd survive without it. Starbucks is surprisingly empty this morning, save for a man at the counter taking six years to order a simple espresso and a woman at the counter by the window, typing away furiously on her laptop. Spencer takes the time to wrap her headphones carefully around her iPod and tuck it into the front pocket of her sweatshirt, pulling the zipper up a little higher the moment a fourth patron opens the door and a blast of chilly air runs up her spine. She glances out the frosted windows and notes the snow has begun to stick to the sidewalks and dirty streets of the city. Fantastic. This ought to make her commute home an interesting one.

"Hey! Congratulations!"

Her head snaps in the direction of the barista, an excitable, teenage morning-person, and Spencer must give her a strange look, because she adds, "Sorry, you just come in here all the time and I don't think I noticed it before."

Glancing down, Spencer realizes her left hand is still clutching the collar of her sweatshirt and her brand new engagement ring is twinkling in the early morning sunlight. "Oh, no, that's okay. Thank you."

"When's the big day?"

"Haven't really thought about it yet. It was recent." And it was, really. She'd surprised him, on their anniversary back in November, with an impossible-to-get dinner reservation at their favorite restaurant and he'd, in turn, surprised her with the ring. And if this barista remembers her- which means she has a problem- but doesn't remember the ring, she can't have come in here since getting engaged back in November. So maybe her problem isn't that bad.

"Well, congratulations again," She grins, handing over her travel carton with the two coffees steaming inside. "And merry Christmas!"

Again, Spencer balks. "What?"

"Oh, sorry, do you not celebrate?" She then falters. "Happy holidays. I didn't mean for that to be offensive or anything. First the whole cup thing and then-"

Spencer stops listening and instead focuses on the calendar behind the young girl's head. "Oh my god. It's December thirteenth?"

"Um," The girl bites her lip. "Well, yeah."

"Christmas is in twelve days?" Spencer asks and when, again, the girl nods, she repeats, "Christmas is in twelve days?!"

Christmas is, indeed, in twelve days and Spencer has yet to buy her fiancé- or anyone else, for that matter- a single thing.

Talk about dropping the ball; she's practically thrown it. She's never forgotten before; usually, she's so on top of her shit that it leaves other people in awe and probably in mild, if not moderate, annoyance. She supposes, on the slippery walk home, that she should just add this to her massive list of things she needs to do today and she laments the time when a day off from work and school meant sitting on the couch with Netflix, cocoa and a blanket. But then again, she's not sure she'd do that anyway; she's much too much of a go-getter, a hands-on hard worker, and even with absolutely nothing on her plate, she's pretty sure she'd find something to do. Once she's in the elevator, she pulls her phone out and texts her parents and her sister first, asking each what they'd like for Christmas. Melissa responds immediately, with two laughing emojis and a simple message reading:

NOW you ask?!

Okay. So Melissa's getting nothing. That makes her load a little lighter.

She tosses her apartment key onto the table by the door and sits upon the couch, gently unlacing her sneakers with bright red fingers. Gloves. She needs to invest in gloves for the next time she attempts to run through the streets of Antarctica. Luckily for her, their apartment is always warm to the point where sometimes, it can be excruciating. Over the summer, she'd described it to Toby as being suffocated slowly by a hug and he'd laughed himself off the couch before telling her that she was the strangest and most adorable human being he's ever known. She's not sure, even now, if that's a good thing or not. She does, however, hear the shower switch off and suddenly her insides grow warm and fuzzy and she pads softly into the bedroom, both of their coffees in tow (though, honestly, hers is already mostly gone).

"Morning," He grins and bends to kiss her. She ducks out of the way before he can reach her.

"I'm kind of sweaty," She laments and he smirks and kisses her anyway.

"I think I can handle it." He says and asks, "How was your run?"

"Cold," She says simply. "I got you a coffee."

"You did?" He jokes, accepting the steaming cup she offers him and taking his first sip. "Huh. I just thought you'd decided one wasn't enough for you and I was, honestly, surprised it took you this long."

She chuckles, shaking her head. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

"Thank you," Toby smiles, all joking aside. "I'm going to need it. It was not easy getting out of bed this morning."

She wishes she shared his sentiment. Instead, she sits upon the bed and watches as he pulls on a red shirt and towel dries his hair. "Did you know Christmas is in twelve days?"

"Yeah, that's the weird thing about Christmas," Toby says, locking eyes with her through the mirror. "Kind of an annual thing, you know? Comes the same day every year."

"Ha ha," She rolls her eyes. "I guess I just I didn't realize it was already the thirteenth."

"You've been busy," Toby reasons. "You've had a lot on your mind lately. Not to mention you haven't been sleeping well and you are tense as hell."

"Yeah, well according to you, I'm always tense as hell."

"And according to you, you were born that way."

Spencer considers this before asking, "Do you ever think we know each other too well?"

"Yeah, all the time," Toby agrees and they share a laugh. "Look, it's going to calm down a bit now that the semester is over. You just have that one book to read, right, and that paper for your Capstone class?"

"Yeah, but that book is six hundred and twenty pages and it's boring as hell," Spencer groans. "And I haven't even started research for the paper."

"But you will," Toby tells her. "And then it'll be over. And we can enjoy the holidays even though we have to go back to Rosewood to do it."

"Don't remind me," Spencer shakes her head. "When do you think we'll be able to stop celebrating Christmas with them?"

"Um, considering they're your parents?" Toby suggests. "Probably never."

He turns towards the bathroom again to brush his teeth and Spencer picks at her sweatpants before admitting, "I haven't started my Christmas shopping yet."

"You haven't what?" He exclaims, spitting toothpaste into the sink. "You haven't finished right? That's what you meant?"

"I wish that's what I meant," Spencer frowns. "I completely forgot about Christmas until today."

"Oh my god. I need to sit down for this one." He teases and she shoots him a look. "No, seriously! Have you ever forgotten anything before? Have you ever been behind in your life?"

"You are seriously not making me feel any better about this."

"I'm joking. You know I'm joking," Toby replies, taking her free hand into his. "You're human, Spencer; a really, really busy one at that. And humans forget things. It's okay that Christmas wasn't at the forefront of your mind and wasn't your top priority. Honestly, unless you're Emily, it probably won't ever be."

"I have never met anyone who loves Christmas more than that girl," Spencer agrees and Toby grins.

"See? It's fine. It's okay," He assures her. "Look, you're probably not the only one. And it's not that last minute; I mean, you could've realized this on Christmas Eve, right? And then you would've been really screwed."

"And not even in the fun way," She frowns and he chuckles. "But you're probably done, right? You'll make me look like an amateur."

"I still need to pick up a couple things for our friends," Toby disagrees. "So I'm not completely finished. I got my parents a couple of things and a polite Christmas card for Jenna, as usual. I even picked something out for your parents because, oddly enough, they've always been nicer to me and more accessible than mine."

"Oh my god," She groans. "You're a better child to them than I am, their actual child."

"I am not," He shakes his head. "That's ridiculous."

"And me?" Spencer wonders. "I'm afraid to even ask what you've got planned for me."

"Actually," Toby grins and stands, reaching for the drawer to his nightstand. "I'm glad you asked because it is December thirteenth which means it's exactly twelve days until Christmas and I need to give you part one of your gift."

"Part one?" Spencer exclaims. "Your gift doesn't even exist yet and mine has multiple parts?"

"You don't have to get me anything," Toby insists and hands her a small wrapped package. "Really, you don't, especially if it's only going to add more stress to your shoulders."

"But I want to," She tells him. "And it's our first Christmas as a betrothed couple. We need to commemorate that."

"Betrothed. Right," Toby chuckles. "Because we live in eighteenth-century England."

She purses her lips. "So what is this?"

"Well, open it and find out," He urges and she does as she's asked, carefully tearing away the cheerful green paper, snowmen and reindeer parting right down the middle.

It's a beautiful glass jar, corked like a wine glass, with tiny scrolls of paper, individually wrapped in red ribbon, inside. Her eyes widen with intrigue and before she can even ask, Toby begins to explain. "I've had your actual gift since after your birthday. That's part two. But you've been so insanely busy with school and with work and I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen you longer than twenty minutes since our anniversary. It's not your fault and I know you've been beyond stressed with everything that's been happening and your anxiety's back in full swing and it's been killing me to watch you suffer with all of this everyday. And now the holidays are here and they're only going to add even more pressure to your already very stressful life, so I tried to come up with something that could maybe ease it up a little bit."

"But I didn't know what to get you that would serve as a permanent fix," Toby continues. "I've heard essential oils are good for stress and anxiety, but I don't actually know anything about it and it was kind of intimidating. Aromatherapy is something Hanna had suggested, but I remember how skeptical you were of that and I don't really think breathing chemicals is the answer. Massages and the spa and all of that were just temporary so… I thought maybe if you just had a little bit of encouragement, a daily reminder that you're the most amazing person I know, that it might make life a little easier to handle until things calmed down a bit. And I was inspired by the season, too."

Spencer's completely awestruck. This is easily the nicest and cutest thing anyone's ever done for her. Toby uncorks the jar and reaches in until he produces the scroll he's looking for. He hands it to her almost sheepishly and says, "So… This is day one. Each one of these slips of paper has something on it that I love about you. I just wanted it to be a sort of reminder that even though things are hard right now, they won't always be, and that you'll get through it like you get through everything; that I love and believe in you."

"I literally don't even know what to say to you right now," Spencer shakes her head, pulling him closer and peppering him with kisses. "How are you still the sweetest, most incredible man on this planet?"

"Because I'm lucky enough to be in love with the smartest, most amazing woman on this planet," Toby grins and gestures toward the first scroll. "Here. Open it."

There's a little number one next to a hand-drawn bird perched in a fruit tree. She beams and asks, "Is that…?"

"A partridge in a pear tree? Yeah," Toby says. "You know, like the song?"

"Yeah of course," She nods and carefully removes the red ribbon, unrolling the slip of paper.

1- Your unwillingness to surrender, give up or give in, even with seemingly impossible odds and especially when that opponent you're facing is –A. Your incredible resilience never ceases to amaze me and I love how far you will go, how much you will fight, for the end result even when it sometimes feels like there's no end in sight.

"You love that about me?" She wonders. "You aren't annoyed by me constantly pursuing something I should probably let go instead of fighting the tireless fight?"

"Of course not," Toby disagrees. "It's one of my favorite things about you. Your tenacity has always astounded me."

Spencer shrugs. "Some might think it's abrasive."

"Well, they don't know you like I do."

She smiles and he does too, asking, "Did that help? Do you feel a little better?"

"Of course," Spencer tells him and kisses him lovingly. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"I have to go to work," He laments, betraying his own words by kissing her again, a bit deeper. "But you get some work done and when I get back, we can order in, drink some alcohol and watch a Christmas movie. Sound good?"

"That sounds amazing," Spencer says and frowns a bit when he places one last longing kiss on her lips before departing. "You sure we can't start that right now?"

"It's barely eight-thirty; we shouldn't be drinking," He chuckles. "And we both have things to do. The anticipation will make it even better though, don't you think?"

She nods and eyes the jar with the rest of Toby's notes as he steps out of the room to tug on his winter coat. Minutes later, he ducks his head back in to say, "I love you. Don't open the rest of those."

It's like he reads her mind sometimes, honestly, and it's never any less infuriating. "I wasn't going to!"

He shoots her a look like he knows the opposite is true. "One a day, like a vitamin."

"I wasn't even going to look at it," She shakes her head. "Look, I'm going to put it right here, on the dresser, so I remember to open one everyday."

He smirks. "Okay."

"Okay? You've got to have more faith in me, Toby," Spencer says. "I have more self control than you think I do."

Again, he shoots her a pointed look and she says, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You thought it!" She exclaims and pushes him out of the doorway. "Go to work. You're distracting me. I have things to do."

He chuckles. "Okay. I'll see you later."

"Have a good day," She wishes and he sends her the same. The door closes behind him and there is silence.

And that jar is just sitting there in her bedroom. It's almost like it's staring at her.

"Okay, well I won't be getting any work done in here," She says to no one and heads into the bathroom for a shower. Once she's clean and dried and dressed, she'll be ready for a productive day of schoolwork and online shopping.

But the jar. The jar is still there, waiting for her.

"It's not going to hurt me to read just one, is it?" She asks the empty apartment and she takes the silence as a no.

The next tiny scroll has a number two and two tiny turtledoves. Honestly, if Toby didn't have his heart set on becoming an architect- and if artists made any money at all- he could easily make millions. He's the most artistic person she's ever known.

2- Your compassion, care and understanding. I've never known anyone who's so open and inviting when others come to you with their problems. You're always there for everyone you care about and you help everyone by going out of your way to do anything you can.

She grins and hastily rolls it a second time and re-ties the red ribbon around its center. Toby will never know. And two is enough for her, really. She doesn't need to open another one.

Heading for the kitchen, she cracks open the terribly long book she's doomed to read with one hand and scrambles eggs with the other. It's incredibly boring and she's ready for a nap by the end of the first chapter. She makes a pretty good dent in it by the time she's finished eating- okay, not really, but eighty-seven pages is better than nothing- and she decides she'd rather finish the paper and get that out of the way before continuing. She makes a pact with herself; for every useful piece of information she finds for her term paper, she'll read another fifty pages of that awful book glaring judgingly at her from the other side of the couch. This process takes her all the way through noon and she starts to go stir crazy, thinking she'll never see the other side of this. She begins to think she'll never be finished; this paper and horrible book will taunt her for the rest of her life.

It's how she talks herself into picking out the next slip of paper.

Scroll number three has three French hens and just as she'd been wondering how French hens differed from regular ones, he'd been sure to rectify this by drawing them with berets and tiny French flags. She chuckles. He's too witty for his own good sometimes.

3- Your thirst for adventure. We're broke as hell right now and won't be leaving this apartment anytime soon. But someday when we have real jobs that pay real money, we're going to go to all of those places you and I have dreamed about visiting. But you're so creative, we don't even have to leave the city. Everyday with you is an adventure.

This makes her chuckle. Their life together can be so boring, so mundane, sometimes that she really does try her best to make the smallest things interesting. She rolls the paper, ties the ribbon and stuffs it back into the jar, mildly satisfied but also slightly hating herself just a little bit. Didn't Toby say, this morning before he'd left, that she wouldn't have any self-control? And hadn't she promised him the opposite? It's one of those annoying couple clichés she absolutely hates; he knows her better than she knows herself. Scowling, she stuffs the jar in her sock drawer out of sight and half mad at him and half mad at herself, she returns to the living room and types furiously, determined to finish her Capstone paper before she does anything else.

She writes a killer introduction. And then stops.

"Alright, fuck it," Spencer grumbles and returns to their bedroom. "I'm not going to be able to focus until I read all of these. Why am I kidding myself?"

4- Your touch. I can't even begin to explain to you how comforting it is to me. Just holding your hand eases any nerves I may have and chases all my troubles away. Hugging you feels like coming home.

5- Your beauty, both inside and out. You'd have to be blind not to notice how breathtakingly gorgeous you are, regardless of time of day (first thing in the morning is my personal favorite) or what you're wearing (or not wearing…). But you're a beautiful person, too, and I am so lucky to know you.

6- Your love and support. I don't know how I would've gotten through these past years without you (well, I wouldn't have, let's be honest). Your unconditional love and support has gotten me through some of the hardest times of my life and I am so grateful for everything you've given me.

7- Your heart. You care and love so much for everyone you love and it always amazes me, especially with those who have certainly tested their limits (myself included). I am honored to be on the receiving end of your unreserved love.

8- Your talents. I used to joke about how there isn't anything you can't do, but over the past few years, I've actually come to find that's true. It's incredible. Not to mention it's pretty badass. Watching you excel at something is both completely unsurprising and wildly amusing.

9- Your brain. Holy hell, I could never compete with your brain. I'm not sure anyone ever could. But it's awesome. Sometimes I like to watch you work, because I feel like I can actually see the moment when you formulate an answer or come up with a solution and it's a beautiful thing. You're the most intelligent person I know.

10- Your hard working nature. You always give two hundred percent in everything you do, regardless of how easy or difficult the task is and regardless of how exhausted or stressed you are when beginning it. Sometimes it borders on unhealthy, but for the most part it leaves me awestruck.

11- Your trustworthiness. We all know how much your friends relied on you when you were younger and you always took their words to heart. You and I are the same way. I know it ended up being unnecessarily isolating, but with that whole drama with –A and my mom… I can't imagine going through that with anyone but you. I know I can come to you with anything and I hope you feel the same way about me.

12- Your friendship. You are my best friend and you have been since day one. And how lucky am I to be in love with my best friend? I love how much and how easily you and I weave in and out of the cheesy, romantic stuff and the teasing, sidesplitting laughter. Our inside jokes, countless hilarious memories together and ability to (finally) tell each other everything, good and bad, will live with me forever. You are wonderful. Our love is wonderful and I'm so grateful for it every single day.

Well damn. Now she really can't focus.

How is it possible that Toby continuously does this to her? How is it possible that now, eight years later, he still manages to make her heart skip a beat and leave butterflies in her stomach and all those other romantic clichés they both hate? And most importantly, how is that she's so damn lucky that she's gets him not only now, not only the last eight years, but for the rest of her life? She folds each one carefully and ties each ribbon into a perfect little bow and sets the jar, corked, back onto her dresser where he'd last seen it. She's not sure how to answer any of the questions she's just asked herself, but she is sure that she has the most fantastic, selfless, caring, loving and perfect future husband in the entire world.

She finishes her paper somewhat distractedly and it's complete shit and she knows she'll have to rewrite chunks before the final deadline tomorrow. By the end of the day, she has only two hundred and forty pages left in the awful book and she's purchased Christmas gifts for her best friends and her parents (Jason's impossible to shop for and she stands by her previous vow; Melissa's getting nothing). Toby, however, she's stumped on. How can she possibly compete with what he's given her? What can she possibly give to the man who gives her so much? She doesn't understand what it is about this year that's completely thrown her off her game. She's usually so good at this and especially with Toby. She knows Toby. She always knows what he wants and needs before even he does. So why is this year challenging that? Perhaps it's the stress and schoolwork (she's been so, so busy…), perhaps it's the lack of real sleep (she doesn't remember much, these days), or perhaps it's the surplus of caffeine (maybe not this one; coffee would never betray her like this), but she's pretty sure she's losing it.

She reads each one of his little scrolls once more and is pretty sure this is going to be her new crutch.

His key turns in the door a little after five thirty. Spencer's staring aimlessly at the wall in front of her, lost in thought. Her laptop is open and glowing blue on her lap and she's twisting a pen back and forth between her teeth absentmindedly. Toby chuckles at the sight of her, saying, "There's my working girl. How did we do today?"

"Finished the paper. Almost made it through the book," Spencer shrugs, shoving the laptop away from her and standing to greet him with a kiss. "Got some presents out of the way. We're making progress."

"See? And you thought you'd never catch up," He grins and from beneath his coat, he produces a bag of takeout and her eyes light up at the sight. "As promised, I brought us dumplings and fried rice."

"And as I promised, I didn't start drinking without you despite the temptation," She grins and turns towards the kitchen to grab them each glasses, plates and the star of the show, the alcohol. "I think The Santa Clause is on tonight."

"Ugh," Toby groans, beginning to unpack their food as Spencer flips through the channels. "That dumb Tim Allen movie?"

"Um, Tim Allen is a national treasure and so is that movie," She shakes her head. "Besides, anything's better than any of those creepy clay-mation specials."

"Are you kidding? Rudolph? The Year without a Santa Claus? Santa Claus is Coming to Town?" Toby exclaims. "The classics?"

"They're creepy," She repeats and then chuckles. "Do we agree on anything?"

He thinks a moment before saying, "We both love White Christmas."

"Who doesn't?"

"And Elf. We both hate Elf."

"Ugh, true," Spencer nods. "Because Will Ferrell's never been funny or made a decent movie in his life."

"Brutally honest," Toby grins. "Another thing I love about you."

Spencer bites her lip and nods, conveniently taking a bite of rice so as not to be able to speak. He eyes her a bit closely and adds, "You know, to add onto the other twelve I gave you today, wrapped in ribbon, in the jar?"

"Sure."

Toby smirks. "You read all of them."

"I didn't!"

"You definitely did."

"I did not," Spencer shakes her head, but her resolve is certainly crumbling and she's always been powerless around him anyway. "I… Okay, I did. I did because how could I not? How could you expect me to just let them sit there without being read? It was so distracting, I couldn't focus on my work and… and… See, it's your fault, really."

"It really is," He agrees. "I've always known you have zero self-control. How dumb of me to think you could handle yourself under the pressure of a daily surprise."

She chuckles but upon the realization of how ridiculous that sounds, it turns into a groan. "I ruined the surprise because I wanted to know what you wrote. And your drawings were so cute and so good. And now I have no idea how I'm going to compete with that. How do I even come up with something that clever and sentimental? Where do I even begin?"

"Newsflash, Hastings- not everything's a competition," Toby says and she frowns. It's sad she needs this constant reminder, honestly. "I already told you that you don't have to get me anything. But if you feel the need to, you know I'm going to love it no matter what. It's going to be clever and sentimental no matter what it is because you gave it to me. So take a deep breath, relax and eat your fortune cookie."

She chuckles and cracks her right down the center just as he does. "I don't even have to read it. My fortunes are so good right now."

"Yours will most likely detail your bright future," Toby suggests. "And how you'll live a long and happy life surrounded by people who love you."

"That sounds nice," Spencer nods. "Yours definitely reads that you are the best fiancé a girl could ever ask for and that you are getting so, so incredibly lucky tonight."

He chuckles. "How is that different from any other night?"

Well. He's not wrong, there. She laughs too and brings him in for a kiss, and when they're through he nuzzles their noses together, saying, "It was hard, you know. Limiting myself to only twelve. I could go on and on."

"I'll bet," Spencer nods. "You're braver than I am. I'd run out of paper if I tried to list all the reasons I love you."

He kisses her again and then pulls back to ask, "Are we the most sickeningly-cute couple yet or what?"

"Yeah, we're disgusting," She agrees, standing and tugging on his hand. "Come on."

They're kissing before they've even properly made it to the bedroom, but she pauses in the doorway to be sure he knows, "I didn't even thank you, did I? I didn't even thank you for doing what you did for me."

"You don't have to," He assures her. "I know you loved it. I know you appreciated it."

"But do you know how much?" She wonders. "No one's ever done anything like that for me before. I honestly don't think I can ever thank you enough."

"Well, you're welcome. You deserve it," He grins and they're kissing once more.

They fall upon the bed and he begins kissing down her neck and very slowly removing her sweater. She bites her lip and wonders, "But what do you deserve, though, in return? Should I make my own list? Twelve reasons why I love you?"

"You don't have to do that."

"You're right. I'd never be able to stop listing if I started," She sighs. "Maybe I'll go through the song and actually buy you everything the true love buys the singer."

"That's excessive."

"No, it could be great," Spencer says. "Think about it. Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtledoves… Ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking…"

"What are we going to do with all of that poultry?" He asks and she chuckles. "And you can't legally purchase people, Spencer. I'm not bailing you out for human trafficking."

"Well, sorry for trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas!"

"I'm sure you can think of something."

And she does. They're in the zealous afterglow of their second round of lovemaking when the idea hits her and she can't keep the grin off of her face.

Okay. December thirteenth or not, she's still got it.

… and a partridge in a pear tree!