Title: Green Christmas
Characters/Pairings: Stella/Miles
Rating: G
Summary: An early glance into Stella and Miles' relationship. Takes place in the mid-80's.
Song Prompt: Bright Eyes - White Christmas
A/N: Written for the Hey Arnold Holiday 2007 Fanmix! (Visit my profile for more info.)
Stella traced the spine of the journal Miles left behind. It was small and blue and looked relatively new. She wondered if Miles had kept journals all his life, or if he'd only started when he came to San Lorenzo. There were a lot of things she didn't know about him yet, a lot of things she hoped to find out.
Did he write about personal things? Or was the journal just a chronological record of his adventures? A part of her was tempted to read it, while the other part said to let him have his privacy. It was awfully silly of him, though, to leave behind his journal, of all things…
She sat in the silence of the small room, not admitting to herself how much she missed him. It really wasn't that silent at all, though, if she listened hard enough. In the jungle, keeping your ears open is behavior you adapt to quickly. She could hear other people in the camp speaking Spanish, crickets chirping, howler monkeys whooping in the distance... the jungle was never quiet. She was just wondering what it might sound like in a city, where Miles was, when a knock came at her door, startling her out of her reverie.
"Yes?"
"There is a phone call for you, miss Stella."
She knew of only one person who would call this late on Christmas Eve. When she reached the tiny foyer, she pressed the phone to her ear and said, betraying no hint of expectancy, "Stella, speaking."
"Merry Christmas," said a low voice, which caused her stomach to flutter as if she were still a teenage girl.
"It's only eleven o'clock, here," she said, her smile carrying through the tone in her voice. "Christmas is still an hour away."
"Not here, it isn't. I should know. Mom's already made four dozen cookies and set them out for the Easter bunny."
Stella laughed, half wondering if he was joking or if his mom really was as eccentric as he made her out to be. Stella realized she still had his journal in her hand, and she hugged it to her chest.
"So how's the weather?" Miles asked. "Any chance of a white Christmas in San Lorenzo?"
She laughed again. Miles was good at making her do that. "Sixty-nine degrees, sorry. Maybe next year."
"I just can't imagine Christmas without snow. It would be kind of sad, I think."
"Miles, I'm fine. I have more than enough work to keep me busy. If I don't get collect enough of these Pleuroderris ferns before January--"
"I know, I know. Always the hard worker." For a moment, she only heard his breath. "I miss you, Stella."
"I miss you, too."
Stella looked down at the journal, now in her lap. She could mention it to him, but no, there was no reason too. He'd probably already realized he'd left it behind, and it wasn't like she'd read any of it.
It wouldn't hurt to take a quick peek, though, would it?
The daredevil inside getting the best of her, she slowly opened to a random page, saw the words "in love" and quickly slammed it shut again.
"What was that?" Miles asked.
"What? Oh, nothing. Just the, um, monkeys! You know, capuchin monkeys. Throwing rocks on the roof. This entire base is relatively new, they only finished this building a few weeks ago -- and you know how territorial they are. The monkeys, I mean."
"Of course, those darn monkeys," he replied, and she could hear his laughter. Soon, they were laughing together.
"I can't wait to come back and see you again," he continued, "These boarders are driving me nuts, just like the good old days. I should hang up, though. I'll call you tomorrow?"
After they'd bidden each other sweet dreams and hung up, Stella placed the journal back in Miles' bag of jungle clothes and colored pencils, where she'd found it when hunting for a pen. She curled up on her cot and listened again. The noises of the jungle wooed her to sleep, and her dreams, however sweet, where as white as she could ever hope for.