Dedicated to Chocolat a'la Folie.

Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy your Secret Santa present.


Disclaimed.


My head hurts. I don't want to open my eyes.

It is a bright and sunny morning; I can feel the sun from beneath my sheets. I can feel it telling me to get up, trying to lull me away from sleep.

Screw it. I'm not a morning person anyway. I could do with a few more hours of shut-eye.

I really don't want to open my eyes.

I try to shut my eyelids harder; the sunlight filtering through the blinds is threatening to make my head explode.

I am fighting a losing battle; I can feel my senses becoming sharper as I drift slowly into the realm of the waking.

The ceaseless pounding in my temples is not helping. My heart sinks. I just want to spend the rest of my day rolling around in bed, but I know I can't.

Not today, above all others, anyway.

Christmas Eve.

The day looms ahead like a menacing storm cloud; the pleasure of the season denied to nobody but me. Well, me, and a certain other somebody, I suppose.

I hear a voice.

"Good morning, handsome."

"Good morning to you too, beautiful," I reply before I finally open my eyes and look to my right.

My fiancé looks back at me in all her glory, bedhead and all, a seductive fire in her eyes.

The first thing I note is that she is gorgeous.

It takes me a little longer to realize that she's in a white brassiere and little else.

I jump out of my sheets and groan. My head is still pounding, and I immediately regret my actions.

"Geez, put something on!"

I glance at her again. She has a cat-like smile on her face now; obviously amused at the state I am in. The sheets cling to her hips like a makeshift dress.

All of a sudden, she seems to take offense at my previous statement.

"What, you tired of looking at my body already?"

I shoot her a nasty look, and she pouts, her hands now on her hips in a mock-threatening pose.

It is adorable.

I give in to her cutesy act and shrug; my head isn't helping. I suddenly find that I am trying to explain myself against my own will.

"Not my point. My head feels like someone went to work on it with a jackhammer while I was sleeping, and you aren't really helping by trying to get me hard at nine in the morning. What the hell was I doing last night, anyway?"

She impishly points at an empty bottle of single-malt whiskey on the bedside table, an empty glass with just a trace of golden-brown liquid in it to its side.

Oh.

My head begins to throb again.

"I need an aspirin."

"Well, get out of the room and grab one from the pantry, then," she nonchalantly replies. "I'm going to get changed. We're going out when you're ready."

I look at her, and blink a few times, my hand now on the doorframe.

"Are we forgetting something?"

She fixes me with a coy look.

"Hmm?"

"It's Christmas Eve, isn't it? I'm pretty sure we're forgetting something."

"What? You mean that Christmas gathering dear Mother and Father are hosting? The one that we both loathe?"

I laugh at her bitter tone, and then question her.

"Yes. And we're going? This early?"

The pounding in my head intensifies at the suggestion.

She waves me off without a second thought, a devious glint in her eyes.

"No, idiot. I only said that we were going out."

I catch on to her eventually, and throw her a poorly hidden smile.

She flashes me a thousand watt one in response, and points at me all of a sudden.

"Go wash up after you get that aspirin, Tsubasa. You look as bad as you probably feel."

I laugh again, and shoot her a knowing smirk this time.

"What the hell are we going to tell the in-laws?"

She mirrors my expression.

"We were late because we had presents to shop for."

Really, now.

She claps once, and then continues.

"Now go get that aspirin and wear something nice. The relatives will probably shoot us if they catch us screwing around in town today. At least we'll have an excuse if we're dressed for the event already."

I look at her incredulously. Looks like she has it all planned out.

I linger at the door for a moment more, and we hold gazes; there is an impalpably strange tension in the air all of a sudden.

"I'm picking your suit," she starts, ending that intense moment.

Guess she's bored already.

"Why?"

I have a feeling I know where this is going.

"You're not wearing that hideous brown one. Not on my watch."

"But I like that one!"

"It makes you look like an old man."

She leaps to the closet and throws open our wardrobe, unceremoniously throwing me a crisp and smart-looking set of jacket and trousers moments later.

"Now shut up, and wear this."

I groan, and she sends me her ever-so-endearing death glare.

I swallow my challenge before it gets a chance to see the light of day.

Instead, I take the less dangerous path of trying to tease her instead.

"So," I chance, "going to wear a dress today?"

She chuckles haughtily, like she always does, and gives me the same old reply she usually does when I bring this up.

"Hun, I'll be dead before you catch me in something as girly as a dress ever again, and you should damn well know why."

Of course.

"Graduation."

It is her turn to groan this time, a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Right; like you'd ever let me live that one down."

I make my way out to the pantry, chuckling as I go.

Muffled, and from our shared bedroom, I hear her call, her voice cheerful.

"Ten minutes, Tsubasa! Let's go out and have some fun!"

Chalk it up to her to make even the worst of my bad days better.


I tug at the starched shirt I have on, the suit jacket digging into all the wrong places under my overcoat.

Misaki is in a formal black pantsuit under her own coat, and I cannot help but poke fun at her choice of clothing.

"A pantsuit? I thought you were engaged to me, not your job."

She giggles, a mirthful tinkle reminiscent of bells.

"I did swear off dresses."

She then runs a hand through her long hair, and continues, as if as an afterthought.

"Oh, and I am a businesswoman by profession, after all. What would my business partners do if they saw me in some polka-dotted number?"

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"So you really are married to your job, after all, huh?"

She slaps me hard on the back, and the flaming sting makes me bite back a girlish scream. She follows up with a threat, growled out in that dangerous low tone of hers.

"I won't tackle or suplex you today, because you look so damn good in that suit and I don't want to spoil that. But don't you dare push your luck with me either, mister."

Oops, guess I went a little too far with that.

I gulp.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Eight years on, and she's still the one wearing the pants in this relationship.


Christmas decorations are everywhere, and carols are playing from every corner of the shopping mall.

Stores advertise last minute 'sales', and crowds bustle around, busy with their eleventh hour shopping.

We spend the morning and early afternoon waltzing in and out of stores, doing nothing in particular, only stopping once, by a fast food joint for a quick lunch.

Surprisingly, Misaki doesn't seem hungry, and she leaves me to eat my cheeseburger alone as she continues to browse.

By the time I catch up with her, it is slightly past noon and we are both exhausted.

I rest on a bench, and Misaki follows suit, plopping down in an undignified manner beside me.

"Damn. We're out of shops already, and it's only half-past."

She shrugs, her expression somewhere between neutral and satisfied.

"Well, at least we wasted some time, right?"

I nod. She has a point.

"I guess."

We grow quiet for a moment, and she leans into me. I watch my breath mist in the cool air.

I get a text at that point, the cheery ringtone cutting into the short but peaceful silence that has lapsed.

Misaki steals a glance at my phone before I even have a chance to read it.

"They're looking for us already? That's fast."

True enough, it is a message from one of the more bearable cousins from Misaki's side of the family.

I cringe at the words on the screen, and am suddenly aware of the slight chill of winter in the air, the once pleasant breeze now a slightly frigid one.

'Where are you? We're all looking for you. Everybody is. You'll be there, right?'

I reply quickly, fingers flying across the keypad so Misaki doesn't see anything. I am pretty sure my face is all scrunched up as I do so, and it almost pains me physically to reply.

'Just out for a while. I'll be there. Don't worry.'

Misaki looks at me curiously, having obviously noticed my discomfort, and jabs me in the ribs.

"What's with that constipated expression? You're not having second thoughts about attending, are you?"

I look at her with a pathetic attempt of a straight face, and lie.

"No."

She looks unconvinced for a moment, then shrugs.

"Well," I continue, "let's go home, shall we?"

She nods, and gestures to the shopping complex.

"Nothing left to do here, anyway."

She offers me her hand, and we walk back to the car, my mood suddenly sullen and my heart strangely heavy.

My eyes are glued to the concrete for the next five or so minutes on the walk back.


I'm back home a quarter of an hour later, the television turned on to some mind-numbingly boring channel.

Misaki sits on the couch nearby, sipping on a can of beer she managed to nick from the fridge.

She looks at me with those accusing eyes of hers, and I shy away.

"Even though you hate this event so much, you're having second thoughts after all, aren't you?" She teases.

I scowl.

"You're the one who dragged me out to avoid it in the first place."

She sloshes her beer around in the can, and takes a short pause before replying.

"Well, you don't seem particularly happy about that, now do you?"

I look at the television seriously for a moment, not knowing how to reply.

"You haven't seem this conflicted about those stupid get-togethers since the year we started dating," she decides to prod again.

"It is a family event, Misaki."

She looks up, resting her now empty beer can on the table.

"So? They're my parents. I have just as much reason to feel guilty as you do, but I don't."

She shrugs.

"Not that I hate the relatives or anything, Tsubasa, but you know as well as I do how much I hate stuffy 'parties' like these."

I nod, but otherwise remain silent.

"Besides, I'm the one that's obligated to be there. Not you. They're my family after all."

I sigh. She's trying to make me feel better, but somehow my heart is still heavy.

"We dragged some of our friends into this by accident this year, though. Don't you feel even the least bit guilty about playing hooky?"

She throws her head back in thought for a moment, and then laughs.

"I bet half of them won't even show. None of them really appreciate stupid things like these, anyway."

I'm not so sure about that, but I don't want to dampen Misaki's mood.

"If you say so, then," is my eventual reply.

Eventually, she rises, stretching as she does so.

"I feel like a bath."

With that, she fixes me with a grin and disappears into the bedroom, presumably for a shower.


Not a moment later, the doorbell rings.

Shit. The TV's on. No getting out of this one.

I approach the door, a sense of unease slowly creeping up on me.

I see a flash of hazel through the peephole, and as the door guest leans away, an auburn-haired lady with a heart-shaped face appears in view.

Mikan.

I get the door open, and the first thing my best friend does is sigh in relief.

She then fixes me with a stern look.

"What are you doing here? Everyone has been searching like crazy, and the family's giving me no end of grief because of my 'best friend' status!

I try to open my mouth to reply; it runs dry.

She takes the opportunity and short silence to throw a light punch aimed at my shoulder.

"Where the hell have you been all day?"

I sigh, and run a hand through my hair nervously.

There's no way in hell I'm blaming Misaki for this.

"It's been a rough few days, Mikan. I decided to go out and gather my thoughts. You know, collect myself and stuff."

She looks at me wistfully for a moment, and chances a glance down at her gloved hands.

"That's… that's fine, I guess. I understand."

She then fixes me with a look I can't place.

"You have to be there. You'll be there, won't you? You know everyone will, right?"

Ah. I forgot.

Best friend's going to be there for the first time, and it seems the family is giving her hell already.

I guess my mind's made up then. I'm not going to leave her to fend for herself in such an unfamiliar setting.

I take her shoulders firmly, and nod.

"I will. Just… Give me a little more time, alright?"

She smiles, then steps back from the doorframe.

"That's fine. I'll see you there, okay?"

I nod again, and wave at her.

As she turns to walk away, I shut the door.

Misaki appears behind me about five minutes after Mikan leaves, toweling her hair.

"I heard the door. Who was that?"

"It was Mikan."

Her mouth takes on an 'O' of recognition.

I take that moment to broach the topic.

"You know, Misaki, we've spent all day just thinking about ourselves, haven't we?"

She looks at me, and nods.

"We completely forgot about Mikan, huh?"

I nod.

"Family must be killing her."

She chuckles, and we come to an agreement almost immediately.

There's no way we're leaving Mikan alone.

"I guess that settles it then."

Her gaze is steely.

"Yeah, we're going. There's no way I'm going to leave her to fend for herself. Over my dead body."


The chilly breeze has died down, and we walk through the park, the path framed with rows of dead trees, the sidewalk all but snowed over.

I turn to look at Misaki, unable to hide my surprise any longer.

"Promise you won't kill me, and I'll say you look nice."

She looks back at me, and smiles.

It's been four years since I last saw Misaki in a dress.

She has her jacket in her hands, and a cardigan around her shoulders, but I can see enough of the knee-length pearl-colored cocktail number to know that it hugs her in all the right places perfectly.

Her hair is done simply, let down to her shoulders and her fringe to one side, and for some reason I can't help but feel that it suits her outfit perfectly.

She tops the look off with a silver clutch adorned with crystals over her shoulder.

She shoots me a coy look when she notices me staring.

"Can't get enough?"

I laugh, and we continue our slow stroll through the snowed-out path, flakes falling around us slowly.

"Don't push it."

Recalling our conversation this morning, I look at her quizzically.

"What brought on the outfit?"

"Well, I guess today is a special day, and all."

"Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah, well, you never liked the day, and you seemed especially glum. I decided to wear something special for you, since we don't get many chances to dress up. It made you smile, didn't it?"

I look at her with the warmest pair of eyes I can muster.

"Misaki. Thank you. For everything."

The grateful tone seems to shock her, and she stops and turns to look at me.

"What brought that on?" She asks, her tone pensive.

I shrug.

"Well, I just kind of felt like it."

She looks at me, quizzically. "Like thanking me?"

"Well, yeah."

She seems a little confused for a moment, before continuing. "I didn't do anything important."

"No, you did. I don't think we could have made it if you hadn't decided to stick with me through everything."

"You had a hand in this as much as I did, Tsubasa. Burdens are best shared, after all."

"Doesn't change the fact that you've done so much for me."

She looks at me; an eyebrow arched, but does not say anything.

"We've known each other since forever, Misaki, and you've been there for me for as long as I can remember. You've been my best friend for years, and now you're my fiancé. If there's something I should thank you for, it's that."

She laughs, throwing her head back as she does so.

"Hell, Tsubasa. Guess this is why I fell for you in the first place, huh?"

She looks away for a moment, and the breeze stills.

"You know I can't be there for you forever, right?"

I smile.

"I know."

"You don't seem to be too sad about that."

"You've been with me for every step of the way so far, and you have no intention of leaving. That's more than enough for me."

She fixes me with a half smile, a faraway look in her eyes.

"I'm glad, you know."

"For what?"

"Just glad. Glad I met you. Glad we fell in love. Stuff like that."

I'm glad, too.

I laugh.

"That's nice to know."

She nods, and kicks up a random tuft of snow.

"I love you."

She embraces me, and we hold each other for a tender moment in the snow, and she whispers in my ear.

"And I, you."

When we break away again, she gives me a long look, and then leans in to whisper in my ear again.

"Tsubasa, you are the best thing to have ever happened to me. Don't let anyone tell you anything otherwise."

We share another comfortable silence, before we continue our stroll.

"Well," she remarks when we are nearly there, "ready?"

I laugh bitterly.

"Of course. It's just some stuffy old Christmas Eve reunion, after all. Bring on all the men in suits and the judgment."

A quiet voice behind me makes me turn.

"What are you talking about, Tsubasa?"

I look towards Mikan with a smile.

"What else? Just the same old, stuffy Christmas gathering as always, right?"

Mikan falls silent for a moment and looks away.

"Where… Where exactly do you think we are, Tsubasa?"


("I'll be dead before you catch me in something as girly as a dress again."

"I'm the one that's obligated to be there. Not you."

"You are the best thing to have ever happened to me."

"You know I can't be there for you forever, right?"

"I guess today is a special day, and all.")


I stand there, a little dazed and hesitant for a moment, before taking a look around.

There is nobody else there but Mikan.

I'm not quite sure what happens next.

Mikan offers me her arm.

I'm suddenly leaning into her more heavily than I usually do.

She's in a black coat, a black dress underneath, all prim and proper.

Next thing I know I'm being escorted to a seat in the front row.

Now Mikan is crying into my shoulder, and I find it hard to keep my eyes dry as well.

They lower the casket and now, I'm crying as well.

Misaki's peaceful face as the casket is closed is burned into my mind for the rest of that day.


I find myself, hours later, standing at the foot of the hill.

The sun has long crested the horizon, and disappeared beyond.

It's nearly midnight, and her grave is snowed in.

The bottle in my right hand is chilled over from the cold temperature, and I pop the cork, taking a swig from the bottle before leaving it on her stone and walking away.

"Merry Christmas, Love."

Wine always did taste better with you around.


A/N: Massively inspired by a fic from FluffAndCrunch, this idea takes tons of inspiration from Fluff's fics. All credit to him/her for the idea.

Also, credits to VCL and Black Maya for assistance when I really needed it, and credits to buttercupbella for listening to my ranting.

You guys have been amazing sources of help.

Lastly, thank you, Autumn Win-dow.

You saved my ass again.