Author's Note: For the third year in a row, here's my attempt at a Christmas story ala Vauseman for your enjoyment. This is meant to be fun and cozy, so if you're looking for a thick plot and adventure, you're not going to find it here. It's not a long story by any means, so look for about four chapters. Also, this is not beta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Vauseman AU with an OOC tag for the folks who feel the need to point out that most of my stories are OOC. Enjoy!

If it wasn't for my lack of extended family or lack of planning, I wouldn't be here right now. My mom is in Florida, and I haven't spoken to my aunt or cousins for the better part of a decade. I was so busy with work that I flat out forgot to make plans for Christmas, so plans were made on my behalf. I could've bowed out; after all, I've only been dating Phoebe for a month, but she needed a date to bring to her friend's wedding, and I warmed up to the thought of spending three nights at a resort in New Hampshire.

So, here we are at the Plymouth Lodge, waiting for our room key. Ignoring the hustle and bustle around me, I observe my surroundings. It's the kind of resort I've only seen in movies or magazines—cathedral ceilings with long wooden beams stretching across the vast space; huge river rock fireplace bursting to live with yellow flames; vintage leather sofas and chairs dotting the hardwood floors; a 15-foot tall Douglas Fir with all the trimmings; Evergreen wreaths complete with white lights hanging on the walls; a man playing Christmas songs on the grand piano in the lobby; and of course, Santa Claus greeting guests with little candy canes as they enter the lodge. It's like I've just stepped into the North Pole.

Phoebe grabs my arm, disturbing my musings. "They're putting us in one of the cottages!"

"Is that a good thing?"

She frowns. "You didn't look at the website like I told you to."

I don't appreciate being told to do anything unless it's by my boss, but I don't say as much. "Sorry."

She tugs her roller bag towards the exit. "Well, if you would've looked, you'd know that the lodge has three luxury cabins that are impossible to book during the holidays."

"Clearly not impossible," I say under my breath. "How'd we end up with one?"

"The lodge is oversold with two weddings this weekend, plus the guests who are staying here for the holidays," Phoebe offers. "The only room they have for us happen to be in one of the cottages."

"Looks like it's our lucky day."

"It sure is."

Truth be told, I wouldn't care if we were staying at a road side motel as long as I get some time away from work and out of the city. Don't get me wrong, I love Manhattan during the holidays, but when the swarms of tourists roll in, I tend to hibernate if not in my apartment then certainly in my neighborhood. I've mostly enjoyed Phoebe's company over the past month, though I don't think we have much in common. I can't imagine either of us feels like our relationship will last well into the future, but these four nights could determine that.

She opens the door to the cottage, and it looks like the scene of a Christmas photo shoot. Everything in the living room is ivory, gold and various shades of green except the red candles lining the flat surfaces. There's a Christmas tree trimmed simply with white and gold ornaments, fresh garland trailing up the banister and looping across the windows, and baskets of pine cones scattered about the room. There's a full kitchen with what appears to be high-end appliances, and of course, a fireplace that's already lit when we walk in. I'll admit this is far better than a road side motel.

Phoebe spins around. "Would you look at this place?"

I lift a hardback copy of The Christmas Train off the shelf. "They've even stocked the place with holiday books."

"This is going to be the best Christmas ever!" She sidles up to me, kissing my cheek. "Just you and me in this beautiful cottage and a fancy wedding to attend."

I smile and lean down to kiss her when the front door swings open.

A startled woman stops short, eyes roaming from Phoebe to me. "Why are you in my cottage?"

"Your cottage?" Phoebe asks.

The woman nods, dangling a key in front of us. She's cute with her blonde hair peeking out of a wool cap and rosy cheeks like she just went for a run. "Yes, my cottage."

Phoebe mimics the motion with our key.

"There must be some kind of mistake," I offer. "Didn't you say there are three cottages on the property?"

"Yes," Phoebe responds.

I shrug. "Maybe the same key works in all the locks." That would be a terrible security violation, but still, it could happen.

"Whatever the case, this cottage is mine." The woman removes her wool cap, and her hair sticks straight out.

My lips turn upwards as I watch her try to tamp down the static.

Phoebe reads the words on the plastic keychain. "This clearly states Cottage 2."

"So does mine." She puts her hands on her hips. "And I was here first, so I'd like you to leave."

Phoebe doesn't back down. "We were here first."

The woman points towards the stairs. "My stuff is already in one of the bedrooms upstairs."

"Let's all take a deep breath," I chime in. "I'll call the front desk and get this straightened out."

Phoebe and the woman cross their arms and eye each other, and it's clear neither one is going to budge.

"Yes, hi, my name is Alex Vause, and I checked into Cottage 2 about ten minutes ago," I begin. "There's another woman here, claiming she's staying in this cottage."

"What's the other guest's name?"

I pull the receiver away from my mouth. "What's your name?"

"Piper." She turns her attention to me, face softening, and I notice her crystal blue eyes. "Piper Chapman."

Before I repeat her name to the clerk, I blink a few times, wanting to introduce myself, but Phoebe's glare reminds me I'm on a mission to find out whose cottage this really is.

"One moment, please."

"He's checking," I tell the two women.

"Uh, yes…we're in an oversold situation this week and had to double up guests in the cottages," he explains. "There are three bedrooms, each with a door that locks from the inside. You'll just share the common living area downstairs."

My eyebrows shoot up. While it's not a big deal to me, this is going to set Phoebe off.

"What is he saying?" she asks.

I relay the message.

"That will not work." Phoebe grabs the phone. "Hello, this is Phoebe Dannenhold, and your explanation is totally unacceptable."

I glance at Piper and shrug hoping she takes it as an unspoken apology for the way Phoebe's behaving. Her lips tug up.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say there's nothing the hotel will be able to do about the situation since they're overbooked," I tell her.

She steps closer, perhaps to avoid Phoebe's rant on the phone. "While that's not my preference, you're probably right." She smells like a combination of pine and sugar cookies.

"I don't mind sharing the cottage if you're alright with it." I look around the room. "There's plenty of space, so I doubt we'll get in each other's way."

She squints at me like she's examining a foreign object and can't decide if it's worth cherishing or tossing aside. "Three nights is a long time to share a house with strangers."

I stick my hand out. "I'm Alex."

She shakes it, still eyeing me indecisively. "Piper."

"There." I shrug. "We're not strangers anymore."

It looks like she's trying to stifle a smile, but she's unsuccessful. "I guess not."

"I'm going to take our bags upstairs." I lift both suitcases. "Good luck down here."

I can feel Piper's eyes on me as I journey upstairs. Looks like this trip just got a little more interesting.

As I unpack my suitcase, I hear someone storming up the stairs, and I don't have to be clairvoyant to know who it is.

"This is unacceptable," Phoebe announces as she enters our room.

I toss my socks into a drawer. "Let me guess—nothing they could do about it?"

"No." She crosses her arms. "At almost $400 a night, this is ridiculous. They haven't heard the last from me."

"I'm sure they haven't." I shut the drawer and conceal an eye roll. "Maybe they'll give us a discount."

"She probably got the biggest room, too." Phoebe steps out, trying to open the door to the room next door, but it's locked.

"Don't do that." I put a hand on my hip, bothered by her petulance. "This is a spacious room and we have our own bathroom. Just leave it alone."

"Like hell I will," she huffs.

"Maybe you just need a little time to cool off and get back into that Christmas spirit you had when we first arrived." I kick my suitcase under the bed. "I'm going to go for a walk or something."

She tosses her bag onto the bed as I make my way downstairs.

Piper is sitting on the sofa, feet on the edge of the coffee table and computer on her lap. "Nice girlfriend you have there."

I head into the kitchen. "Phoebe's not my girlfriend."

She looks up from her laptop. "You're at a destination wedding with a person who is not your girlfriend over the Christmas holiday?"

"Appears that way." I open a cupboard and find the mugs. "I'm going to make some tea. Want some?"

Piper puts her computer aside and gets to her feet. Ignoring my question, she prods, "How'd that happen?"

"Me being here?" I pull out a jar filled with teabags.

She sits on a kitchen stool and reaches for the jar. "Yeah."

"I wanted to get out of the city for a while—you know, unwind, commune with nature, drink too much eggnog…" I fill a kettle with water. "And Phoebe wanted a date for the wedding, so I agreed to join her."

"She's friends with Polly?"

"Who's Polly?"

Piper's eyes narrow like I should know who she is. "The bride."

"Oh." I turn on the gas stove. "I didn't pay much attention to the wedding invitation. Phoebe works with the groom." I rinse out two mugs. "You're here for the same wedding?"

Piper nods. "I'm the maid of honor."

"Congratulations." I smile. "Why aren't you hanging out with the bride?"

"She's driving up with her mom and hit some traffic along the way. They should be here just before dinner." She pulls out a few Numi teabags and reads the description of the one in the orange packet. "Assam black tea and sultry spices."

"Sultry?" I let out a short laugh. "How can spices be sultry?"

She issues a small smile. "Good question."

We catch each other's eye, and there's a fascinating glimmer in hers.

"Of course that's the one I want to try," I say.

She holds two little packages up. "We're in luck: there are two."

"I'm going to head to the grocery store after this." I glance in a few cupboards. "This kitchen is too nice not to be used."

"You have a car?"

I nod.

"Mind if I go with you?" She rips open the packet. "We're going to have a small gathering in the cottage the night before the wedding. I want to get some snacks and booze."

I pour water into two mugs. "Like a low-key bachelorette party?"

"Yeah." She dips a teabag into each one. "I hope that doesn't cramp your girlfriend's style."

I give her a look, and she flashes a grin like she knows she shouldn't use the term girlfriend to describe Phoebe.

"It's your cottage as much as it is ours," I say. "Besides, you're the maid of honor. You're in charge of making sure the bride has a good time."

"Exactly."

Phoebe rushes downstairs. "I thought you were going for a walk?"

"It's too cold," I offer.

She puts on her coat. "If that's your excuse, you plan on staying inside a lot."

"Works for me." I take a sip of hot tea. "Mmm, I kind of get the sultry part."

Piper nods. "It sort of coats your throat."

Phoebe glances from me to Piper, then back to me. "What's going on here?"

"We're drinking tea."

She puts on her hat and gloves. "Suit yourself. I'm heading to the lobby bar. Join me if you'd like."

"I'm going to find a grocery store and get some stuff to snack on and maybe make a few meals so we don't have to drain our wallets at the hotel restaurant." I take another sip. "Any special requests?"

Phoebe stares at me. "We're at a five-star resort and you want to cook?"

"I enjoy cooking." I shrug.

"And saving money," Piper adds.

"You're in on this, too?"

Piper stands. "I'm going to host a little something for the bride, and Alex offered to take me to the store."

Phoebe raises her eyebrows. "Host it here?"

She nods.

"It'll be fine," I interject. "You and I can go to dinner at that restaurant you were telling me about on our drive up here."

She doesn't take her eyes off Piper. "I'll make a reservation for the two of us."

I walk over and kiss Phoebe on the cheek. "Go have a drink. Enjoy yourself."

"Will you meet me later?"

"Yes."

Phoebe gives Piper the stink eye once more before heading out.

"I'm getting the sense she doesn't like me."

"I'd love to be able to vouch for her," I begin, sipping my tea. "But we've only been dating for a month. You two just got off on the wrong foot. I'm sure things will be fine once she gets more into the Christmas spirit."

The look on Piper's face indicates she's not so sure about that.

I drive to the grocery store with Piper's navigational help. It's getting dark and the street signs aren't well lit. I don't know if I would've found the place without her assistance.

"Where do you live?" she asks.

"Manhattan. You?"

"Same." She smiles. "What neighborhood?"

"I'm subletting a studio in Brooklyn right now, but I have to find a new place by the end of January," I reply. "I'd like to live downtown, but the rent is nuts."

"I live in Chelsea," she says. "Rent control—I've been in the same building for five years."

"You're lucky."

"Take your next right," she directs. "I kind of inherited it. My boyfriend lived there before I moved in with him, and even though he moved out, I still benefit from rent control."

I don't know why that bothers me. "Boyfriend, huh?"

"Ex-boyfriend," she replies. "We were supposed to come to the wedding together, but I broke up with him about a month ago."

I don't examine why that nugget of information relieves me. "Sorry to hear that."

"I don't like going to weddings alone, but that was no reason to stay with a man I didn't love."

"How long were you together?"

"Almost three years," she says. "Make a left on Hardwick Road, and the grocery store should be about a mile ahead."

"Most people I know would've stayed together through the wedding just to have a date." I make a left. "I'm impressed you didn't do that."

"It would've been awkward. I didn't want to put either of us through that."

"Judging from the predicament we're currently in, it appears you would've had to share a bed." I spot the grocery store and pull into the parking lot.

She smiles. "It worked out much better this way."

I return her smile. "I think so, too."