Just trying my hand at this (extraordinarily cute) pairing. Still a Ciel/Snake fanatic, but I just couldn't resist the mesmerizing fluff parade that is Snake/Lizzie. Anyway, please enjoy this little holiday themed ficlet. Also, feel free to check out my other fics and oneshots. I do not own these characters. Please read, enjoy, and review :)

Sugar and Spice

(and everything nice)

The air of the Phantomhive mansion, Snake observed, tended to carry a general undercurrent of darkness and chill. Whatever caused this phenomenon, it was broken up whenever a one Elizabeth Middleford happened to visit. Wherever the young girl went, she carried with her an aura as bright and welcoming as the sun. Ciel's estate, especially in these cruel winter months, was in desperate need of Lizzie's ameliorating presence.

On one such winter morning, when snow flecked about in manic swirls outside the glass windows, Snake felt a warm, sweet sort of breeze permeate the manor's oppressive atmosphere. As Snake instinctively followed the pleasant yet intangible nimbus, he did not initially connect it with Lizzie, though he was not surprised to find the blonde girl fluttering about the mansion's kitchen—the epicenter of the warmth and sweet scents.

"Oh, hi Mr. Snake!" Lizzie said as she pushed back curled tendrils of hair with one hand and balanced a baking tray on the other.

"What are you doing...Asks Emily," Snake stepped into the kitchen, eager to bask in the oven's heat and enticing aroma.

"Baking cookies," Lizzie smiled brightly, "for Ciel's birthday. Sebastian offered to help...but that's like cheating. I wanted to do it myself."

Now, Snake caught sight of the tray. He blinked in surprise. "They look like little men!"

Lizzie giggled at Snake's declaration. "They're gingerbread men, Mr. Snake."

"Oh..." Snake murmured, perplexed but curious, "let me help you with that...says Oscar."

"No, you don't have to—" Lizzie started, but Snake took the tray from the girl's hand's and slid it into the waiting oven. He offered her a shy little smile upon finishing, and Lizzie beamed back. "Thank you."

"What...do we do now...asks Webster."

"Um, we wait," Lizzie said.

Snake nodded and sat down on the counter. Lizzie eyed the surface dubiously, and it occurred to Snake that she probably couldn't jump up without wrinkling her dress. Before he could get nervous, Snake reached down to lightly grasp the girl's waist and hoist her up. Lizzie looked surprised, mildly flustered, but mostly grateful. Her brown over-skirt had hitched up, and Snake caught a glimpse of white-and-pink striped petticoats before Lizzie smoothed her skirts down; the pink matched the tiers of ruffles that decorated her dress at regular intervals. Well, for some reason, Snake found that very cute. He didn't know a thing about fashion, but he knew the way that Lizzie's striped petticoats matched her ruffles was just adorable.

"So how do they taste?" Snake asked suddenly, "the gingerbread men...asks Keats."

"Ooh, they're very yummy," Lizzie said enthusiastically, "they're sweet, but also kind of spicy."

Snake nodded; he wasn't a big talker, but he was a good listener, and Lizzie was happy to continue they're one-sided conversation.

"I just love cookies. They're very cute, especially when you cut them into shapes and put icing or sprinkles on them! Paula taught me how to bake last month, when it was too snowy for my tutors to come," Lizzie chattered happily, "I was very happy to learn because...well...you know, Ciel loves sweet things."

Snake fidgeted on the counter, but he was looking intently at Lizzie, waiting for her to continue. Many a person—Ciel and Lizzie's mother included—had chastised the girl for her habit of babbling, but Snake found her friendly chatter entertaining and comforting. He liked the way Lizzie looked at life—with a brilliant sort of optimism and good cheer that she extended to everything and everyone.

Now, however, a sad look had come into Lizzie's emerald eyes. "That's why I'm baking the gingerbread men, you know. Ciel is always so sad this time of year, so I was hoping to cheer him up."

"I hope you succeed...says Goethe," Snake told the girl earnestly.

"Thank you," Lizzie replied, voice soft and fragile.

Snake felt that he ought to do or say something, but he had know idea what. On a mad impulse, he leaned forward, placing his hands on Lizzie's shoulders and brushed his lips against hers, light as snowflakes kissing the ground. That one instant of contact, for the briefest of times, seemed oddly eternal, until...

Ding!

"Oh, the cookies!" Lizzie hopped down from the counter, fast as a jack-rabbit, when the timer went off. Hastily, she stuffed oven mitts over her hands and pulled the tray of finished cookies from the oven. Snake watched all this vaguely, even as the sweet-spicy waft hit him. The kiss, for that was what it had been, had simply ceased to exist, lost somewhere in the folds of time. Perhaps that was for the best.

"Would you like a cookie?" Lizzie's pleasant inquiry pulled Snake from his bitter-sweet thoughts.

"Yes, please...says Charlotte," the youth nodded, and Lizzie handed him one of the spongy brown mini-men.

Snake took it, holding the warm confection in his palm. As he left the kitchen, which he intuitively knew to do, Snake decided that he would not eat the cookie, regardless of its tantalizing, sugar-and-spice scent. He would wrap the treat in tissue—pink and white, perhaps, if he could find it—and stash it in his drawer, a memento of a warm, sweet, stolen moment that never quite happened.