Disclaimer: Sonic the Hedgehog doesn't belong to me.

Rating: K+

Summary: "This is the fourth time you have come to ask for sugar this week. How many cookies are you making?" Sonic is trying to impress his new neighbour Amy Rose, coming to discover she doesn't share the love for Christmas like most do. Leading to a cosy non-traditional Christmas for them both.

A/N: OK, as most people know Christmas Day is very hard for me now due to losing my mum on it 2 years ago this year. I have tried to write happy, lovely Christmas stories this year and it's just not translating. This is basically me finding a prompt and letting my muse and imagination do the rest so I can declutter my brain and hope it relieves a bit of pressure I'm feeling. It's not my best, but I can't keep re reading it. So here it is, me stretching my fingers and willing my heart to catch up with my head. Don't worry, I will make Christmas as special as I can for my two beautiful girls. This is why I come to write. Anyway, wishing you all a very happy and special Merry Christmas, as best you can this year. Here's to a brighter 2021! x

Cookie Christmas

She's going to think I'm nuts, I thought to myself as I shuffled on my neighbour's doorstep. If anyone asks why I'm moving from foot to foot I'd tell them it's because it's cold; melted snow seeping into my old sneakers. But the truth is, it's because I'm anxious as hell. My heart racing in my chest from anticipation or sheer nerves, I can't tell anymore. And I've stopped questioning it, I just figure it's something that will always happen whenever I see my beautiful neighbour. Or at least, until I work up the courage to actually ask her out on a date. Or run for the hills because I'm actually a coward when it comes to speaking to her for more than a few seconds at time.

"Sonic, you are such a loser," I muttered to myself, shaking the soft snow off my quills that had settled there in the few seconds I'd been standing on her doorstep, waiting for her to answer. I could feel sweat gather at the back of my neck when I saw movement through the window of her door. "Chaos, what am I doing?!"

But before I had a chance to answer my own dumb question, she swung the door open wide, a warm blast of air and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifting to me, enticing and inviting. I sucked in a breath as soon as my eyes settled on her in a warm red sweater and old jeans that hugged her curves and made me want to drop to my knees and whimper. How did she manage to make such casual clothes look so adorable and cute? Her pink hair was up in a messy bun, stray tendrils falling around her face that she brushed aside absently as she took me in, basically drooling and cramping from anxiety before her.

"Hi A-Amy," I croaked, my face flushing with heat as I cleared my throat and tried again. "Ames, sorry to bother you," I scratched the back of my head, my embarrassment knowing no bounds when it comes to the stunning Amy Rose. "I was wondering if I could borrow another cup of sugar," I rushed out thrusting the chipped cup out in front of me, willing my hands to not shake. "Please."

Amy blinked at the cup, her long thick eyelashes fluttering over her intense Jade eyes before she lifted them back up to me. A small, curious smile on her inviting full lips. Chaos Sonic, get yourself together! I chided myself internally trying not to focus on her lips for too long.

"Hello again, Sonic," Amy responded, her voice flowing over me like the warm breeze of a summer day. I wanted to sigh and get wrapped up in it. Let it carry me somewhere far away, where the wildflowers grow and heaven is a place on Mobius. She reached out and took the offered cup from me, her smile widening as she glanced in it. "This is the fourth time you have come to ask for sugar this week. How many cookies are you making?" she asked, her eyes twinkling at me in a way that made me sway closer and feel a sudden burst of confidence I never have around her.

Winking I said, "You'll have to wait and see."

Amy's look of surprise was like a giant snowball to my face and I stepped back instantly, the blood draining from my face. Seriously, girls never make me this nervous! They're so easy to charm and flirt with. But with Amy, right from the first moment I saw her moving in next door to me, I've been a stumbling mess! My friends have witnessed my fumbling chats with her, made fun of my stuttering and eventually just looked at me with second-hand embarrassment when I've literally tripped over my own feet in front of her. Me! Sonic the hedgehog, the fast thing alive.

Undone by a beautiful angel in pink.

But then Amy did something that made me feel that gooey hopeless mess again . . . she giggled at me.

That was all, just a musical tinkle that had me sighing all over again. My ancestors are probably looking down on me and shaking their heads in disgust.

"Sure, come on in and I'll get you some." Amy invited, turning away for me to follow.

Being as this was my fourth visit in a matter of days I stepped in straight away and closed the door behind me. Instantly at ease in her living room, the cosy homely feel wrapping around me as I looked at the crackling fire. Her decorations were sparse, barely anything out to tell it was Christmas in two days. Her tree was amazing, unsurprisingly. But that was it. A Christmas candle placed here, an ornament there and some fairy lights across the fireplace mantle and it was done. From the outside you wouldn't even think she was celebrating Christmas if it wasn't for the wreath hanging on her door. I'd questioned it to myself the first time I was in there. But knowing this was it, my last chance to borrow sugar and step inside her house for a reason, I was suddenly dying to know why she didn't seem all that into Christmas.

Doesn't everyone love this time of year?

"Here you go, one cup of sugar for you, Mr Mysterious Baker," Amy smiled as she came back to the living room from the kitchen. The cup of sugar held carefully in her hands as she came to stop before me. Her smile was so warm and relaxed, good to know she's not as affected by me as I apparently am by her. Still, that won't stop me from hopefully completing my present for her.

"Hey, why don't you have more stuff out for Christmas?" I asked, gesturing to the room and almost knocking that precious cup of sugar all over the floor. "I mean, you seem the type who would go all out for this time of year." I took the cup from her so I couldn't do anything else stupid. She's probably used to my idiotic accidents since she moved in almost a year ago. But just to be sure I held the cup tight enough to numb my fingers and not move a muscle.

Except the look on her face went from open and friendly to shuttered and sad in seconds. Suddenly I didn't give a shit about the sugar or if I could possibly look more like a clown in front of her than I already had. Because my gut was telling me I'd just put my foot in it in a huge way. My protective instincts to care and help taking over. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. I just speak without thinking sometimes." I backpedalled, hesitantly reaching out to touch her arm, pulling my hand back at the last second so I didn't make it worse.

Amy shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around her room. "What makes you think I'm the type to love Christmas?" she asked me quietly, her eyes trained on her Christmas tree tucked in the corner of the room.

"Well," I gulped trying not to make it worse than I already had by actually thinking about what I wanted to say around her for a change. "I've seen you playing snowball fights and making snowmen with some of the kids around the neighbourhood. And giving Christmas wreaths to the old couples - the Murphy's and Conrads down the road. And I've been smelling cinnamon and nutmeg for weeks, like you've been baking up a storm. And - erm, I've seen you watching the tree lighting ceremony in the town square hanging a decoration on the tree." I admitted sheepishly. Hoping she didn't pick up on how - er - observed I've been of her in the last few weeks.

Amy blinked at me in surprise, the hold on her arms loosening slightly as the silence fell between us.

Finally, she cleared her throat, a light blush to her cheeks that just made her look even more alluring if that was possible. "I guess you're right. Once upon a time I used to love Christmas. It was my favourite time of year. I'd have a countdown to putting my tree up because I use to get so excited. I was the biggest kid the whole season, I'd drive my friends mad. But then," she sighed heavily, the thick emotion in her voice not lost on me at all as I doubly regretted asking such a personal question. "But then I lost someone very, very close to me Christmas Day two years ago and I," Amy took in a shuddering breath, her arms back to holding herself tight again. "And I haven't seen it the same way again since."

I dropped my head, closing my eyes against the guilt, shame and humiliation I felt for not thinking about how for some people Christmas isn't as wonderful as it's supposed to be.

"Amy, I'm - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - "

"Please don't, there's no way you could have known. To be honest she would hate knowing how much I dread this time of year now. If she was here, she would be poking me to get back into the spirit of it whether I want to or not. And I should, logically I know I should. But I guess being on my own over Christmas affords me the luxury of being able to pretend it's not happening because there isn't anyone to feign happiness for. So, that's my tragic story and I'm sorry I've just brought your Christmas buzz down." she winced, ducking her head a little.

"Hey," I coaxed, forgetting how jittery and nervous she makes me I reached out and tipped her chin back up to look at me. "Don't you be sorry either. We've all got a story, trust me I've got a few too. You're allowed to own it." I brushed my thumb over her cheek gently as I released her face and took a step back while I had the courage to. I wanted to say more, I even took a breath to, but I knew there wasn't anything else I could say to something that big. I'd opened the can, now there were worms everywhere and I didn't want to make it worse than I already had. "I should get going, but thanks again for the sugar, you're an angel."

I turned away in time for Amy to miss the blush I knew was flooding my face as she laughed lightly at me, the warmth racing throughout my body hitting every nerve along the way like it always does when she giggles or laughs at me. So, what if most of the time it's because I'm making a fool of myself. It's worth it.

She's worth it.

I waved to her as I stepped off her snowy path to walk across to my house, glad when she closed the door and didn't see me trip on something hidden in the snow, the sugar almost flying around me. But I thought about what she said the whole time I made my fourth and final batch of homemade, only slightly charred, cookies and placed them as artistically as I could in a box. My ribbon work seriously lacking. But the thought was there, according to Cream when I sent the photos to the group chat. I couldn't get out of my head the thought of her spending Christmas alone, sitting in her house sad, crying and feeling abandoned when most other people would be surrounded by people they loved. I've no doubt she has friends, I've seen them come and go since she moved in. But I guess she's never wanted to go to them for it, if her worrying about bringing down my buzz was anything to by.

I thought about it the whole time I watched the snow fall out the window, the afternoon turning to evening. I thought about it while I pulled on my jacket and grabbed the box of homemade cookies and stepped out into the frigid cold night. I thought about it while I stood on Amy's doorstep for the second time that day and forgot to be anxious about talking to her again because my brain was firing in a different direction this time.

It was the first thing to come out of my mouth as Amy opened the door to me for the second time that day -

"Spend Christmas day with me, Amy Rose," I rushed and thrust the box of cookies out to her. It was only the look of shock and confusion that passed over her beautiful face that I realised I had said aloud what I had spent the whole afternoon thinking about. "Wait, that wasn't what I meant to say first," I muttered, shaking my head free of the fog as Amy grew more confused. "But I was going to ask, just not come out with it like that. I mean I don't want you to think I pity you, because I don't. Wait!" I cried, the range of emotions she was showing me with her different expressions showing me I was screwing this up badly. And she still hadn't taken the cookies. "I didn't mean I don't feel bad for you, because I do. But I mean this isn't a charity offer. I really would like to spend the day with you if you'll let me? I mean we don't even have to talk if you don't want, we can just sit together and watch movies, or play a board game. I just mean I hate the thought of you being alone and I want to spend it with you."

Finally, I ran out of breath and thought and snapped my mouth shut along with my eyes and just wished for Eggman to suddenly decide to come out of retirement and give me the best excuse I could find to get out of this hellishly awkward situation. And then look for a new place to live.

"Ames - I,"

"You want to spend Christmas day with me?" Amy asked me quietly, the box of cookies finally being taken out of my numb hands.

I raised my head and dared to open my eyes again. The look she was giving me almost threw me to my knees in the snow. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, the sheer emotion aimed at me enough to knock the breath out of me. I could only nod at her, my throat suddenly locked up, that familiar nervous feeling coming back. "Yes," I croaked for a second time today.

"And these are for me?" she asked, lifting the box and shaking it lightly. "They smell delicious."

"They took some practice," I shrugged, giving her my best lopsided grin as I scratched the back of my head. "Fourth time lucky," I mumbled. "I've seen you bake for the kids around here. I thought you deserved to have someone bake for you for a change. I hope they taste OK." I rocked back on my heels, shoving my hands into my jacket pockets to stop me from doing something wild, like tug lightly on the wavy hair sitting on her shoulder, or stroke a hand down her soft, flushed cheek.

"Sonic, thank you so much. No one has ever done something so sweet and thoughtful for me before. I love them, thank you!"

"Don't thank me yet, you still need to try them," I deflected embarrassed. Maybe Cream was on to something when she suggested I bake for my new illusive neighbour. I'd have to collect her some of the rare flowers she loves so much as thanks.

Amy giggled again and held the box close to herself protectively. "Why don't you test them with me on Christmas Day?"

"R-really? You mean, you do - I mean you want - "

"Yes Sonic, I would love to spend Christmas day with you." Amy cut me off, smiling at me fondly. I couldn't help it, I broke out into the stupidest, goofiest grin possible; amazed that I hadn't totally screwed up my offer with her somehow. Then she floored me even more by grabbing a hold of my jacket and pulling me towards her so she could kiss me on the cheek. Her thumb rubbing over where her lips had been as she pulled away and knocked me further with her grin. "Come by around ten and I'll make us breakfast. See you then and thank you for my gift."

"Welcome," I muttered back as I stepped back from her house and felt my feet sink into the thick snow of her path. She watched me for a second before closing the door, leaving me in darkness again. I don't remember walking back into my house, taking off my jacket or how I ended up laying on my couch with my hand pressed to my cheek where she had kissed. But I remembered our date and how light and happy I felt for the first time in too long as I stared at my ceiling, not seeing anything but Amy Rose's beautiful face.

I couldn't promise her the best Christmas she had ever had. But I could promise to be there in whichever way she needed me.

Whichever way she wanted me. I knew it would be enough.

"Merry Christmas to me . . ."