I know these are a little off-season, being Christmas related, but I had meant to post them a long time ago. I wrote these from December 1st to December 24th, as a little Atobe/Ryoma advent calender, of sorts. Hope you enjoy them, despite their being posted in the middle of summer - though truthfully it's a lot more like winter here at the moment.

Ryoma had barely any time to react when Momoshiro had come up behind him, just as he'd been closing the clubroom for the night, and swiped his hat straight off his head. It hadn't been his usual Fila one, but rather a woollen one his Grandmother had knit for him. He didn't particularly like it, but it kept him warm all the same. Some of the freshmen in the club had thought it was cute - he'd made them run laps, and shoved the hat in his bag.

"Momo-senpai, give me my hat back," Ryoma said, his 'captain authority' tone still in place after practice. Momoshiro had either just completely ignored it, or had missed it entirely.

Momoshiro grinned at him - looking ridiculously goofy, Ryoma had to admit - and waved his hat in the air. "I can't do that, Echizen. I can't." He ruffled Ryoma's hair, and Ryoma attempted to swat his hand away. Momoshiro just laughed. "Fancy a match on the street courts, before it ices over?"

Ryoma gave him a look that made other people feel like idiots, but Momoshiro must have been immune to it, having seen it so many times. "It's freezing, stupid." He tugged at his scarf with gloved hands, just to emphasise his point. "My hat. Now." He held out his hand.

"I'm going to keep it." Momoshiro tucked the hat into his bag with a grin on his face, that was more devious this time than goofy. "You can follow me to the street courts if you want it back, or you can walk home. But your ears will be very cold."

Devious little bastard, Ryoma thought, as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets, trudging along behind Momoshiro. He'd just get to the street courts, get his hat back and then leave. Simple as. He loved tennis as much as the next person, but not when he was going to turn into an ice-cube.

They walked in silence. Momoshiro had forgone his bike once the ground had started to get a bit slippery - he hadn't last year, and had ended up in the emergency room with a broken arm. Ryoma had found the whole thing kind of funny, until Kaidoh made him run laps for being an insufferable brat. Ryoma knew he hadn't meant it, he only wanted him out of the changing rooms so that he could shout at Momoshiro for being careless.

The streets courts were practically deserted when they arrived. Practically, because on a second look around he could see people sitting on stands. He squinted and recognised the person on the first step, An Tachibana. Devious little bastard indeed, he'd done the same thing that he'd done before. "If you wanted a date with Tachibana's sister, then don't involve me, idiot."

"D-date?" Momoshiro said, turning away from waving at An. He couldn't be more obvious if he tried. "This isn't a-"

"That's what you said last time too. And the time at the arcade. Oh, and how about when-"

"All right, all right. You don't need to make a list." Momoshiro had flushed a very unflattering red colour, that Ryoma didn't think had anything to do with the cold.

When they walked closer to the stands - beckoned over by An to sit, which Momoshiro had no hesitation with doing. Ryoma knew now that he'd never had any intention of playing tennis with him - Ryoma looked over his shoulder and saw two of Fudomine's players standing by the vending machine. On closer inspection he saw Yuuta from St. Rudolph, and Fuji sitting and smiling at him. Then a little higher up...

"Ah, perhaps things will get a little interesting now."

Of all the people that could have been here. Of all the people. "Monkey King, what are you doing here?"

Atobe wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Must you call me such a vile name, Echizen?"

"Yes. What are you doing here?" Ryoma had had his hat stolen, had not-so-physically been dragged to the street courts for some unknown purpose, and he was not happy. He was grumpy and irritable.

"Slumming it," Atobe returned without so much as missing a beat. "And yourself, Echizen? What are you doing here?" Atobe was patting the seat beside him, as if he expected Ryoma to go sit there.

Ryoma crossed his arms across his chest with a huff, and sat on the step in front of him. "Momo-senpai stole my hat."

Momoshiro let out a kind of indignant squawk. Ryoma didn't think it was a very flattering thing to do when you were trying to impress a girl. Then again, Momoshiro shoved burgers in his mouth as though he was inhaling them when An was around, so what did he know?

"I didn't steal it. More like borrowed it, just to give him an incentive. I had every intention of returning it." Momoshiro emphasised this point by pulling the hat out of his bag. Ryoma ignored the little snort of laughter behind him.

"Nice hat," Atobe said, and Ryoma could hear the smirk in his voice. The idiot.

"Can I have it back now?" Ryoma asked, wanting to get away as soon as possible. There wasn't going to be any tennis, that much was certain, so he really had no interest in sitting here and freezing.

"Sure, sure."

Momoshiro chucked the hat at him, and Ryoma fumbled it when he caught it in his hands. He wasted no time in shoving it onto his head, relishing in the instant warmth it gave him. His ears would no longer be frozen.

"How cute." Atobe sounded completely serious, which was a shock to Ryoma, though he just dismissed it as another way from him to annoy him.

He scowled and blushed a little bit, thankful that Atobe couldn't see because he had his back to him. "Shut up."

They were interrupted then by a cough, and when he actually paid attention to the rest of the group he could see that it had been Fuji who had done so. Ryoma was a little bit embarrassed at having been distracted completely by Atobe for a moment.

"Now then, how about we get what we need to do, done. It's rather cold," Fuji said, and he had that infuriating smile on his face that told people he was up to something. Which he almost always was.

Ryoma was suddenly very nervous. What had he been made to come here for? It wasn't tennis, so what did they have planned? He was almost certain that everyone here was in on it. He didn't like not knowing what was going on.

"Well," An said, a little too happy for Ryoma's liking, "Everyone knows the rules of Secret Santa, right?"

If it was possible to feel the blood drain from your face, Ryoma was certain that it had just happened. He almost got to his feet in alarm, but instead settled for saying, "What?!" in an exasperated voice. That's what they were up to. The sneaky little-

"Oh, didn't Momo tell you?" An was smiling far too sweetly to be innocent. Girls were nothing but trouble. "Well, your name is in the hat now, you don't mind, do you?"

Ryoma wanted to say that yes, he did mind, and also that he didn't want to be involved in some stupid game. He even opened his mouth to protest, but thought twice about it when he saw Fuji smiling at him, and shaking his head. "No. It's fine," he muttered. He was going to completely slaughter Momoshiro on court next time they played.

"Well, since there are no more objections," An said shaking the hat. "Who's first?"

The next few moments passed by too quickly for Ryoma. Everyone pulled a name from the hat, and they all smiled when they saw who they got. It wasn't fair, that meant they got people that they liked and knew. If Ryoma got Momoshiro's name from the hat, he knew exactly what he was going to get. His ass handed back to him in a tennis match.

"Echizen," Momoshiro called, halting his master plan for revenge. "Your go. Come on."

Ryoma got to his feet and sighed, walking down the stands to the front, where An stood - still shaking that god forsaken bag. He sighed and put his hand in it, taking out the first piece of paper that he touched. He stalked back to his seat, looking more irritable and moody than when he'd first arrived.

While Atobe walked down to the front to pick out his name - flicking his hair as he stood, and sauntering gracefully - Ryoma unfolded his piece of paper. He got more nervous as each fold was taken back, until...

"I can't do this!" Ryoma exclaimed, halting Atobe when he was about to pick out his paper. Everyone looked at him - and four of the people there had these all-knowing smiles on their faces. This was a set up.

"Did you pick your own name, Ryoma?" An asked, trying to sound as helpful as she could, but really she just sounded like she wanted to laugh.

Ryoma started to protest. "Well no, but-"

"Then you're stuck with whoever you got. Sorry."

Ryoma's stomach sunk. This was not good. Not good at all. That smirk on Atobe's face told him all that he needed to know, he'd planned this from the start. When Atobe sat back down, Ryoma took his hat off his head and chucked it at him - wanting to vent his anger in a more physical way. Then he stormed off. He didn't stop until he was a fair distance away from the street courts, and he looked at his paper again.

He was so doomed...