Good morning, good morning! Thank you for your fabulous feedback on the past few chapters. It's good to know I'm not just spieling out here to no one haha. I always contemplate writing something and wondering if someone will be out there, reading, if I do. It's good to know that my efforts are not unfounded haha. Thank you for your continued support. Together, we will make it through the rest of this terrible show (I'll just be cheering you on from the sidelines because I am certainly not watching lol).

Today's chapter is themed after "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." Thank you for reading and enjoy!


here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore

Her parents are going on a cruise for Christmas, leaving them high and dry.

"I guess," Toby suggests hesitantly and Spencer begs him not to say it. "We could go to my parents'?"

"We could," Spencer agrees just as hesitantly. "Or we could do literally anything else and not hate ourselves."

He smirks. "See, if this were your parents, you'd be saying, 'Come on, Toby, they're not that bad.' But I can't say that. My parents are that bad."

"We can't just show up," Spencer points out. "We can't just appear out of thin air. We have to give them fair warning that we're coming."

"Maybe they'll invite us." Toby shrugs. "They probably won't, but maybe they will."

"I mean… How much could it cost to make Christmas dinner for ourselves?" Spencer contemplates. "There are only two of us. We could just… We could get something small, like a chicken, and then a few potatoes and some crescent rolls…"

"We can't have Christmas dinner alone," He reasons. "How pathetic does that sound?"

"Pathetic, yes," Spencer agrees. "But your family hates me and isn't too fond of you, either. I want to enjoy Christmas, you know? I can't say that I will if we're in Rosewood with your entire family."

"I wish you were wrong about this. I really do," Toby sighs. "Maybe we can talk to Emily or Hanna or someone and crash their dinner."

"Oh trust me, you do not want to have Christmas with the Fields'. They are way too intense about it. I'm talking formal dinner, place cards, china, everything." Spencer shakes her head. "And Hanna's going with Caleb to California to celebrate Christmas with his mom. We're shit out of luck."

"When are we not?" Toby asks and she chuckles.

"If you don't want to go to your parents', we shouldn't go," Spencer then says, sobering a bit. "Believe me, if we can avoid Rosewood, I think that option is always best."

"He invites me every year and I always turn him down because we go to your parents'," Toby says. "Me? Us? I don't know."

"You. Definitely just you," Spencer purses her lips. "Every year, he thinks you're going to wake up and realize you've made a mistake. He's just waiting for you to break up with me."

"Well, he's going to be waiting a long-ass time," Toby says and she smirks. "He doesn't hate you. Just last week he asked all about you; how you were doing, if your job was still working you to the bone, what you wanted for Christmas… He was genuinely interested."

"Wait, you never told me that," Spencer replies, eyes wide. "Are we friends now? Should we exchange numbers and go to lunch?"

Toby chuckles. "If you want."

"I didn't know he was getting me a gift," Spencer remarks. "That's so nice of him and so unnecessary. Now I need to get him one. But where to find the Tin Man a heart? I hear Oz is closed over the holidays."

"Ha, ha, ha," He rolls his eyes. "You know, you don't get nearly enough credit for your wit."

She grins cheekily. "Did he ask you to come to Christmas when you spoke last week?"

"Yeah."

"And you said no?"

"I said maybe," Toby sighs. "I knew your parents weren't going to be here but I wanted to keep our options open."

"We have no options," Spencer smiles. "Just tell him we'll be there. I'll prepare myself for the Cavanaugh extravaganza and we'll have a good time."

"We'll have a time," Toby says. "Can't say it'll be a good one."

Spencer laughs the tiniest bit, rubbing his shoulders before standing and heading for the kitchen. "What does your father like?"

"That'll be easy. It's a short list," Toby says, thumbing through his list of contacts. "Crunching numbers, Sudoku puzzles, college football and single malt scotch."

"That's the most random list I've ever heard," Spencer chuckles. "I guess I'm buying him a football team because it's cheaper than the scotch."

"Tell me about it," He agrees. "I bought him a bottle once that I think I'm still paying off. It's the one thing he indulges in."

"I was going to say," She nods. "For someone who loves to make fun of my family and their expenses…"

"Yep. He's a hypocrite," Toby tells her and dials his father's number, pressing the phone to his ear. "You'll find many of the Cavanaughs are."

"Your grandparents were awesome," Spencer points out. "They were so sweet and so nice and so, so welcoming."

"They're my mom's parents, that's why," He says and she bites her lip. "My dad's dad died before I was born and his mom is a mean old bitch."

She snorts. "A lovely thing to say about your grandmother."

"She literally called me Bean Pole from the moment I could walk," Toby explains and Spencer bursts into laughter, her head thrown back. "I'm serious! It's because I was so tall and skinny. My mom would correct her constantly and she'd go, I know his goddamned name, Marion! Would you feed the kid? For Christ's sake!"

"I'm so sorry," Spencer says, attempting and failing to control her laughter. "Bean Pole, oh my god."

"It's not funny!" Toby insists, shooting her look, and his father finally picks up. "Hey, Dad, it's me."

"Toby. Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," He nods. "You?"

"Sure. You getting snow up there? It's really coming down, here."

"Nah, it's clear," Toby chances a sidelong glance at the window of their apartment, where the city rushes by, oblivious. "Not going to get a white Christmas at this point."

"Eh, it's only the twenty-first. You've got some time."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Speaking of which, have you made a decision about coming down or are you going to their place again?"

"Actually," Toby starts and braces himself for the reaction. "If it's okay… We'd like to come down for Christmas dinner. It's been a while since we've spent Christmas together, hasn't it? And I thought… Well, if the offer still stands…"

"Toby, of course the offer still stands. You're my son. You're always welcome here."

"And-"

"And Spencer too, yes Toby. Jesus. You don't have to ask every time. She's in your life; she's in my life. Come on."

"That's not what I was going to ask," Toby replies. "Where are we with the whole… Jenna situation?"

There's a long silence on the other end and Spencer, too, pauses her ministrations. "She won't be here. She hasn't been home since last Thanksgiving."

Last Thanksgiving, after way too much alcohol, the truth about his sexual abuse had surfaced, to everyone's horror, and he hasn't seen her since. Daniel clears his throat and says, "Carolyn knows how I feel about the Jenna situation. I'm still furious she's not more furious."

"Well," Toby shrugs. "She's her daughter."

"Yeah, and you're my son."

"Yeah." Toby exhales. "So… What can we bring?"

"Don't feel like you have to."

"No, I want to," Toby insists. "Anything."

"Well, whatever you want. We're not picky."

Toby smirks, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay."

"See you then?"

"See you then," He agrees and hangs up. Spencer's waiting beside him on baited breath.

"So?"

"So we're going there for Christmas and there's no backing out of this," He sighs, standing and encircling his arms around her waist. "Why did we do this?"

"Come on, it'll be fine," She tells him. "We'll go there, exchange gifts, eat and then peace the fuck out. Smile and nod politely at some terrible conversation, I'm sure."

"And get all the questions," Toby groans. "How did you two meet, again? How are you still together? And you're living in New York, you say? That life is enough for you?"

"Why don't you visit more often? Why don't you call?" Spencer continues. "Aren't you sick of each other yet? Don't you want to play the field and see what else is out there before settling down?"

Toby adds, "When are you going to get married?"

"When are you going to have babies?" Spencer mimics. "You're not getting any younger."

"No one's said that!"

"My mother! Last week!" Spencer exclaims. "We've been engaged for, what? Six months? Seven? And she already wants us to pop out twelve kids. Not getting any younger? I'm twenty-five!"

He laughs. "I am so not ready for children."

"Me either, oh my god," She shakes her head. "I'm not ready for little Bean Poles."

Toby frowns, his eyes narrowing. "I regret telling you that story."

She's laughing and he drops his arms from around her. "I'm sorry, it's just so funny."

"Yes, getting bullied by my family is oh so hysterical."

"Come on, babe," Spencer pleads, following him down the hall and catching his hands, turning his body back towards hers. "I'm not making fun of you. But obviously you feel comfortable enough with me to share these horrible things."

"Well of course I do. We've been together for a million years. We're getting married," Toby says. "Isn't it crazy that even after all these years, there are still things you don't know about me?"

"It is," She agrees. "I'm sure there are plenty of humiliating and/or terrible things I haven't told you."

"Yeah, that's true."

"Oh, have I told you about that time my father was supposed to chaperone our field trip to the zoo?" She asks. "I was, like, eight. I was so excited because he never cut work for anything. I decided I was too cool to take the school bus to the zoo with the rest of the class so I waited for my father to pick me up and drive me there, like the rest of the chaperones' kids did. And one by one, those kids left with their parents for the zoo and guess who stood there all afternoon?"

Toby's eyes widen. "No."

"Yup," Spencer nods. "He completely forgot me. I stood there, waiting, all day and when I got home, I was so furious I wouldn't even look at him. That's when he thought he could buy me off with a box of buttercreams, which, actually, kind of worked. But, honestly, I wish I could say that was the first time I was forgotten about. And it wasn't the last, either."

"Spence," He frowns. "That wasn't funny. Mine was at least funny."

"Hey, you said it wasn't! You flipped out when I laughed," She points out, teasingly adding, "Wow, the Cavanaughs really are hypocrites."

"Yeah and you'll be one, soon enough," Toby says and she beams at the notion. "So you better learn the family business."

She chuckles and throws her arms around his neck elatedly, pulling his mouth to hers for a loving kiss. She's glad she gets him forever, now, because she's pretty sure she'll never get enough of this.

Four days pass quickly and soon, it's Christmas morning. There still isn't any snow on the ground, but there are carols playing and presents under the tree and love in both of their hearts. They have a quiet morning, opening presents, sipping cocoa and going out of their way to end up accidentally underneath the mistletoe (they end up in bed not twenty minutes later). Despite their every effort to avoid it, the time comes for them leave each other's arms and their very cozy bed and get ready for the day in order to head down to Rosewood. It grows colder the farther north they drive and Toby's father had been right; they'd gotten at least a foot or two of snow, blanketing each roof and lawn beautifully. She tries to be bothered by the familiar sights of Rosewood, but she just can't find it today. It's Christmas, she's with the love of her life and her heart is light.

They approach Toby's childhood home, hand in hand. Toby inhales a deep breath and says, "Well… I guess we're doing this."

"You said that when we were still in bed, when we got dressed, when we got in the car," Spencer lists. "When we got on the interstate, when we got off the interstate, when we pulled into the driveway…"

"You've made your point," Toby nudges her shoulder. "I just still can't believe it."

"There isn't at least the tiniest part of you that's glad to be home?" Spencer asks. "Especially for the holidays?"

"It'll be good to see my dad, I guess," He shrugs. "That's about it. And I can't believe you got him scotch."

"You said that's what he likes!" Spencer defends herself. "I didn't buy the five-thousand-dollar bottle. It's fine."

Toby glances at her, then, a wry smile on his face. "You want to impress him."

Spencer cocks an eyebrow, skeptical. "Do I?"

"You want him to like you," Toby says and she shrugs as they step onto the front porch. "Even though you've said all along that you don't care what he thinks."

"I don't!" Spencer agrees. "But I mean… If he can make an effort, so can I. I always thought I was the bigger person but clearly I'm not."

"No, you are, believe me," Toby shakes his head. "He asked after your behalf obligatorily, I'm sure."

"Wow," Spencer deadpans. "Just when I was starting to kind-of like the guy."

He smirks and rings the doorbell. "Let's get this over with."

Spencer shivers a bit beside him and the air's thinner and colder up here, sure, but it's possibly a bit of unsettled nerves as well. They wait a moment and Toby rings the bell again before they hear a bit of shouting from the other side and it swings open, Daniel looking incredibly irritated the moment they lay eyes on him. "You've lived here your whole life, Toby. What the hell are you ringing the damn bell for?"

"Trying to be polite," Toby shrugs and steps over the threshold into the warm house. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Dad."

"Yeah, yeah, merry Christmas." He says, reaching out for Toby and Spencer's coats the moment they shed them. "And you, too, Spencer. How're you doing?"

"Good. Good, thank you. Merry Christmas," She smiles almost apprehensively. "This is for you, actually."

She presents him with the bottle tied with a bright red bow and he beams. "Macallan? Ah, a girl after my own heart. You drink this, Spencer?"

"Oh, no, scotch was never really my drink; much more my father's actually," Spencer replies and Daniel scoffs, shaking his head.

"Well, I'll be damned. Never thought I'd ever have anything in common with Peter Hastings," Daniel says. "Well come in, come in. Whole family's here, waiting for you."

He turns and heads deeper into the house, towards the sound of boisterous arguing and roaring laughter, and Toby quietly asks, "Isn't that bottle like a hundred and twenty dollars? What the hell, Spencer?"

"It's usually a hundred and twenty dollars," She hisses back. "And this is where it pays to know someone at the liquor store."

"You do not still talk to Fitz."

"I do not, but I still like to call in favors every now and then." Spencer shrugs. "He'll be paying off that time he was almost –A and betrayed my best friend until the day he dies."

Toby shakes his head, simultaneously flustered and impressed, and the two head into the family room. It is packed from wall to wall with all of his family members and Spencer glances from end to end, wondering if she's ever seen this much of Toby's family in all her years of dating him. Daniel announces, "Look who it is, everyone. The prodigal son returns."

A chorus of cheers and unintelligible yelling drowns out anything else he says and Spencer can feel Toby tense beside her. When the room quiets, he says, "Hi everyone. Merry Christmas. This is my fiancée, Spencer."

And that's the wrong thing to say, because everyone has something to say about this. The room explodes into commotion and the couple is pulled every which way. Aunt Jess exclaims, "Fiancée? You can't be old enough to be getting married! I used to bounce you on my knee right there! Right on the couch!"

Uncle Tim boasts, "Wait until I tell you about that time Toby saved my dog's life. Seriously! Used to play with him all day and night and one day he choked on a gum wrapper. Wouldn't you know it, our Toby, tiniest thing back then, too, reaches down this dog's throat and pulls it out himself! I mean, the smallest hero! And he must've been so afraid!"

Cousin Mike sneers and says, "Look Ma, you were wrong. Someone wanted to marry him after all! And you said he'd never land a girl until he changed his whole personality, remember? You said his lack of ambition and timidity would keep the girls away, but I always thought it would be his terrible clothes and inability to see the world for what it is. Guess we were both wrong!"

And Grandma, of course, chimes in with, "She's too goddamned skinny too! For Christ's sake, does no one eat in New York City?"

"Well, I think you're beautiful," Cousin Amy tells her and pulls her to a sit right beside her on the couch. "What did you say your name was, again? Sarah?"

"Spencer," She replies. "Spencer Hastings."

"Spencer?" Grandma pulls a face. "Boy's name, isn't it?"

"I mean," Spencer shrugs. "I guess it's unisex."

"No, no there's the bank teller named Spencer. He's a man," Grandma corrects her. "The doorman at my building. He's a man. Our Uber driver on the way here? His name was Spencer, too. Your parents trying to give you an identity crisis or something?"

"Hastings," Cousin Amy says, biting her lip. "Why do I know that name?"

"Hastings," Cousin Mike cuts in. "Like Peter and Veronica?"

"Uh, yeah," Spencer says, a bit quieter and she hates when this comes up in conversation. It's a small town and her parents are, unfortunately, good at what they do. This means lots of people have been screwed over by the ones she calls mom and dad. "They're my parents."

"Ugh, I hate Peter Hastings!" Cousin Amy grimaces. "Jack Kirkpatrick, remember him? He sued Rosewood Memorial for malpractice after his son was born with an undetected birth defect. Peter defends the hospital, they win, and Jack ends up owing the hospital two million dollars in medical expenses! Two million dollars! Jack's a housepainter! Where the hell is he going to get the money? How does Peter sleep at night?"

"Oh that's no better than his wife," Cousin Mike adds. "Those new apartments on Water Street? They were only guaranteeing two parking passes per apartment regardless of how many people were on the lease and were towing cars regardless of whether or not people lived there. A bunch of the residents are college students doubling, tripling, quadrupling up on those leases! So what do they do? They make a case, bring it to the court and demand one pass per resident, not per apartment. And who defends the Homeowner's Association? Veronica Hastings. And who wins? Veronica Hastings. And who then limits the passes to one per apartment and convinces the HOA to hire more security and enforce 24-hour towing? Veronica fucking Hastings!"

With each word, Spencer sinks lower and lower into the couch, pleading with the universe, please kill me. Please just kill me now. Toby is none-the-wiser; he's in the kitchen speaking with his father and she'll willingly gnaw off her own arm before she interrupts the two men who barely speak enough as it is. And so, she sits here impatiently and continues to take the abuse. Cousin Mike jeers, "Can't believe Toby's marrying a Hastings."

Cousin Amy adds, "Can't believe Uncle Dan's allowing him to marry a Hastings. Not after what happened with Radley. They covered it up, you know. The Hastings' and that DiLaurentis woman."

"Now, now, let's not speak ill of the dead," Aunt Jess purses her lips. "Have you started any wedding planning, Spencer?"

"No, not really," She replies. "We were thinking of maybe-"

"I bet it'll be a destination wedding," Cousin Mike snorts. "Some place none of us have heard of or can easily access."

"It'll be made of gold," Uncle Tim adds in, grinning. "The chairs, the altar, everything. Hell, Peter Hastings has the money to spare."

"You've got to get some meat on your bones first," Grandma shakes her head disapprovingly. "You're the tiniest damn thing."

It's about all she can take. She excuses herself to use the restroom and doesn't come back.

Meanwhile, Toby's in the kitchen doing his best to help his father when he notices one member of his immediate family (aside from the obvious; Christmas was always his mother's favorite time of the year) is noticeably absent. "Dad? Where's Carolyn?"

"Oh, she's… She's not going to make dinner tonight," Daniel replies. "I told her that Jenna was no longer invited and she didn't like the idea of not spending Christmas with her daughter, so… She left."

"Permanently?" Toby wonders and Daniel sighs.

"Well, not yet." He responds. "I just… I can't just forgive her for what she did to you, just like I can't forgive myself or Carolyn for not noticing."

"Yeah," Toby frowns. "It's taken me a long time to get to a good place, Dad. But if I can do it, so can you."

"She wants to forget this whole thing, Carolyn," Daniel says. "I don't want to put it behind us. I want to confront it. And she… Hell, I don't know if our marriage can survive this."

Toby offers, "I'm sorry."

"It is what it is," Daniel shrugs. "I've been thinking and it's just… Maybe I was meant to be alone."

Toby shakes his head. "No one's meant to be alone, Dad."

"You don't understand."

"No, I do, actually," He disagrees. "I thought that for years; back when I didn't have any friends and no one would even give me the time of day, let alone look at or talk to me. But then, you know what happened?"

"What?"

He smiles simply. "I met Spencer."

Daniel smirks. "You're always talking about that girl like she changed your life."

Toby shrugs. "She did."

He steps into the family room, then, and scans the room for her, noting she's missing. Aunt Jess says, "She said she was going to use the bathroom about a half hour ago. I hope she's okay."

"Probably just needed a break," Grandma huffs. "Not all of us can be as friendly as I am."

Toby turns and heads into the hall, searching every room for her and briefly panicking and checking the outdoors to make sure she hasn't taken the truck and driven back to the city without him. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past her; he hadn't witnessed his family's awful conversation with her, but he can guess what it had been about. Ascending the stairs, he almost passes his old bedroom when he notices her, curled up on his bed and flipping through an old, unidentifiable book, a nostalgic grin on her face. He grins, too, at the sight of her and says, "Here you are. I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing?"

"Looking through your old yearbook," She says and turns the particular page towards him. He must be twelve or thirteen and he looks supremely awful. "You are the cutest little dork I've ever seen."

"Alright, alright," Toby says, sitting beside her and glancing at the stringy hair hanging in his eyes. "Long hair was in back then."

"I love your long hair," Spencer tells him sincerely. "It's really soothing to run my hands through. And it's something to hold onto during sex."

"Okay then. That is not what twelve-year-old Toby was thinking about," He says and she chuckles. Turning the pages, he states, "There's got to be a mini Spencer in here, somewhere."

"Ooh, stop, there I am," She cringes. "The last year of the braces. Ugh. I hope our future kids get your teeth."

"You're the cutest! Get out of here," Toby tells her. "Look at those little pigtails. You look twelve."

"Well, I was eleven," She smirks. "Good lord. What a nerd."

"What a dork." Toby adds. "We're both winners."

She smiles and then sobers a bit, saying, "I'm sorry I escaped. I wasn't feeling very merry. Your family tore me apart."

"I had a feeling. I'm so sorry," Toby says. "I was gone for, what? Ten seconds?"

"It felt like ten years," She groans. "Your cousins are really shitty people who hate my parents so they hate me. Your uncle thinks my father pisses money and your aunt… Well, I don't really know. She didn't say much other than she used to play with you as a baby. And your grandmother! Oh my god!"

"I told you. Didn't I tell you?" Toby shakes his head. "She's a mean old bitch."

Spencer sighs, leaning back against him. "Promise me we will never be like that towards our children, our future in-laws and our grandchildren?"

"Never," Toby agrees. "We'll be together every holiday and we'll welcome everyone and we'll make great memories."

"And I'll never make fun of someone's weight or lack thereof," Spencer adds. "And I'll never call out horrible things their significant other's parents have done. And we'll all talk and laugh and love one another. And we'll sit down to Christmas dinner and have a wonderful time."

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," Toby agrees. "And, honestly, it's not too far away."

"It isn't," Spencer says. "I know we just said we weren't ready for children, but part of me wants to have them right now so we can show your family how it's done; how a real family acts at Christmas."

"Yes, a revenge plot." Toby nods, teasingly. "That's the best reason to have children."

Spencer chuckles and continues to absentmindedly flip through the pages of the yearbook until she gets to the end. "Toby… No one signed this."

"That's not true," He shakes his head and points to the miniscule writing in the corner of the first page. "Mrs. Norwood signed it. She was my math teacher."

"Toby- you worked very hard this year and I applaud you for that. Keep up the good work and I'll see you next year. Watch out for those cosines!" Spencer reads aloud. "Cosines?"

"It was our joke," He smirks. "She didn't even see me the next year; she retired. I guess she just didn't want me to feel bad."

Spencer frowns. "But no kids signed this."

Toby shrugs. "I didn't have friends. You know this."

She purses her lips and eyes his abandoned desk in the corner. "Hand me that pen."

"Are you kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Give me the fucking pen."

He obliges, hands raised, and she scribbles furiously for a few moments. When she's finished, she smiles and hands back the yearbook. "Okay. Let's go eat."

"Wait a minute, I don't get to read it, first?" Toby asks and she hops off the bed, pausing in the doorway.

"I guess, but hurry up, because I'm starving," Spencer replies, grinning cheekily. "And you know how I get when my blood sugar drops."

He chuckles and cracks the cover open, beginning to read:

Toby,

It's Christmas, fourteen years later, and you're sitting next to me as I write this. I can't fathom or imagine how or why this book is empty, but I have to believe that it's so I could have this whole page to tell you how much you mean to me and how much I love you. In this book, you were a twelve-year-old dork with weird hair and I was an eleven-year-old nerd with awful braces and a kitten sweater and we never spoke. Not once. But now? Now, we're Spencer and Toby and that means something to everyone we know. You're the most incredible man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You're caring and kind and loyal and sweet and so many other qualities that I cherish in a life partner. You're endlessly selfless and unconditionally loving and relentlessly supportive and I couldn't bear the thought of not having you in my life. I cannot wait to marry you. We are going to build such an incredible life together. Merry Christmas, my love. Your love is the best gift you've ever given me and you make everyday feel like Christmas morning.

XOXO,

Spencer

He glances up in awe and she shuffles her feet a bit, almost shyly. "Come on. Let's go eat. Let's get back."

"I love you," Toby says instead, climbing off the bed to pull her into his arms and kiss her over and over. "I love you so much."

She kisses him back, lingering. "I love you, too."

"This has been the weirdest Christmas ever."

She chuckles. "It really has."

"And yet," Toby remarks. "Still great."

"Yeah," Spencer agrees, bringing him in for another kiss. "I think my company has something to do with that."

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now…