Feels Like Christmas

Summary: Eustace and Jill share the Christmas tradition of decorating a tree, but it doesn't turn out quite as planned. Pure fluff wrapped in a silk bow.

It was without a doubt the strangest Christmas tree either one of them had ever seen. Eustace Scrubb and Jill Pole could do nothing but stare at their strange arrangement of the holiday decorations.

"If you tilt your head to the right . . . it looks more balanced." Eustace commented, his head so far bent it looked like it was about to snap. Jill followed suit, but just shook her head. "Forget it Scrubb, it's a lost case."

The two had spent the last hour attempting to decorate the Scrubb's Christmas tree. Neither one of them had ever been given much practice- Jill's family usually settled on a store-bought, ready made arrangement, and the Scrubbs had never had a Christmas tree before. They had only gotten this one because Eustace had paid for it with his saved allowances and promised to take care of it and decorate it himself- for everyone knew Alberta and Harold would never touch it.

The two of them had gone out- a classical concert or something, Eustace believed- leaving Eustace and Jill to do all the Christmas decorations. They had seized the chance, as both understood they chances of them being allowed to spread the holiday cheer at any other time would be were slim at best.

For amateurs, the tree was not quite as bad as they perceived it to be. The sporadic assortment of ornaments was more the fault of their wallets than their skills. The tangled masses at ribbon was mostly due to the fact neither one of them had ever learned how to tie a bow properly, and they could not be blamed for that.

"Well," Eustace commented, "It's a better tree than I've ever had before."

Jill shrugged. "It was fun, at least."

"Yeah" Eustace muttered, "I love being smothered by ribbon and poking holes in my finger with those hooks. It's a blast. Well, at any rate, it could be worse. My cousins could have accepted the invitation to our Christmas dinner, where the only warmth comes from the food, and then they would laugh at our work. At least this way, we're the only people who care about it."

Jill sat crossed-legged with a sigh on the stiff brown couch. She had been grateful for having the chance to spend Christmas with someone besides her family, and was happily surprised that the Scrubbs had even agreed to let her come home with Eustace for the holidays, but things were always tense in the house. She would take her break from Eustace's parents now while she had the chance.

"Still," she replied, now looking out the window and really only half-paying attention to the conversation, "it's the first Christmas tree I ever got to decorate. And admit it Scrubb, you were having fun, no matter how many holes you poked in your finger- which, I may point out, was largely your own fault."

Eustace opened his mouth, but for several seconds had no reply. He finally settled with, "Fine, the poking was my fault. But getting a load of white tulle unloaded on me was assuredly your fault. But. . . it was kind of fun." He admitted sheepishly, as if he was a child who admitted to being afraid of the dark.

A few more seconds passed, and Jill decided to finally break the silence. "Scrubb, no matter how long you stare at that tree, it's not going to be any better."

At first Eustace seemed to not respond to her comment at all, but finally took a spot beside her on the couch. "You're right. Still...it does look nicer further back here, doesn't it?"

"Scrubb. Give up on the tree and stop your delusions. Face it- neither on of us have exactly had the experience needed for this sort of thing."

"Mmm-hmm." Eustace had given up on the conversation, as he too had turned his head to the window. The snow was coming down in small, graceful flakes. Eustace briefly entertained the notion that if someone snapped a picture of the two of them sitting on the couch staring at the snow flakes, they could write a classic Christmas song to it. Then he remember the tree.

Both of them sat and stare, each slowly growing more entranced with the perfect weather and the warm silence. Before Eustace realized it, Jill was asleep. He couldn't help but to grin as he surveyed her- sitting in a nice, formal living room on a nice, formal couch looking anything but formal. Her head was bent and resting on her shoulders, she was still sitting cross-legged, and her hair had messily fallen out of her hair clip and was falling free around her face. It was the classic Jill he knew very well, and he knew she wouldn't be Jill if she didn't do things like that, but he also knew that his mother would not tolerate Jill's sloppy posture in her house very well.

He gently shook her shoulders. "Pole," he whispered. He had seen Jill being woken before and he was not looking forward to the monster that he suspected was in a deep slumber now.

"Pole! Pole! Jill!" Eustace kept shaking. He had no idea how she had fallen into such a deep sleep so fast, but now he wasn't going to question.

"What?" Jill asked opening her eyes groggily. Anyone would think she would have been asleep for several hours instead of just a few minutes with the way this was going.

"You feel asleep." Eustace tried his best to keep his voice lowered- that's what you usually do with dragons and monsters. Speak softly, keep them calm. And he knew no one could be considered a better expert on dragons than him.

"Scrubb, it's night. We fall asleep. We wake up in the morning, when the sun comes out again. I thought you were good at science."

"Yeah, but you're in my mom's living room sprawling out on her couch like it was your bed. Just saving you-and myself- a lecture. Go to your room."

Jill's eyes cut as sharp as a surgical knife. "Fine." She stated, her annoyance still evident in her voice.

"Waking dragons. What has my life come to?" Muttered Eustace. He yawned, realizing just how tired he was himself. With one last lopsided grin towards the tree, he climbed the stairs and retired to his own room.

-------

"I can't believe our luck. Both your parents are out again today." Jill commented as she sat on the couch, gazing happily at the Christmas tree.

Eustace grinned back at her. The joy of the season had invaded both their spirits, and they were content to sit and enjoy their picture perfect scene for a moment.

"Pole?" Eustace questioned.

"Yes?"

"I think the tree looks better this morning." he commented, a sly grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He could easily guess what her reaction would be.

Jill rolled her eyes. "Stop your obsession with the tree already." Her voice sounded frustrated and annoyed, but the peeking smile was enough to let Eustace know the truth.

"Still. . ." He knew he was pushing the limits, but continued anyway.

"Scrubb, go back to your hot chocolate."

He did with a bit of a grimace. Pole had insisted that she could cook a fine cup of hot chocolate using a secret family recipe. Eustace considered it might be a secret in order to hide food poisoning. However, he was not going to be telling Jill that any time soon. Of course, she didn't even like hot chocolate and was drinking cider, so she could not even taste her own mistakes.

The tree looked nothing at all like a Christmas tree. His drink tasted nothing like hot chocolate. However, nothing had ever felt like Christmas as much as that moment.