Hello! Wow, Christmas is just around the corner! :O To celebrate, I have a little story for you here! FYI, I acknowledge that this concept of SpongeBob in Sandy's Treedome with the snow has been done countless times already in other stories, but after reading some of them myself, I figured eh? How about I write my own little spin on the idea? Lol. However, the one particular fic that was the main inspiration for this, was one written by AtomicFlounder. ATF, thank you for the inspiration! Oh, and since it's Christmas-themed, I am going to throw in a couple of festive clichés because…well, why not? Lol. Anywho, I hope that you enjoy this, my friends. Thank you so much for reading! (And sorry for such a long note).
Disclaimer: As I always say, I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters. All rights go to the late Stephen Hillenburg, Nickelodeon and Viacom.
Holly Jolly Help
The beginning of a brand-new day in Bikini Bottom shined with the natural rays of the sun. The fiery orb took its time in lifting the shadows from every corner of the city, starting with giant rocks, working its way through the icy streets where bundled-up fish-folks shopped for Christmas presents. And finally, it ended with the fruity home of SpongeBob SquarePants.
Short, deep-green curtains with delicate, white Christmas trees sewn into them were pulled aside by SpongeBob as he leaned forward in front of the kitchen sink. His blue eyes met the even brighter blueness of the ocean sky through the shiny window. He sucked in a slow breath through his nostrils; the cool, soothing water adding to his beatific mood.
Ah, December 24th. There was something about it that SpongeBob adored just as much as he did the day that followed.
The cold, refreshing water that flowed with sparkling ice crystals, the anticipation of opening a gift in the evening, waiting patiently as the sky darkened and knowing that Christmas was drawing nearer, or simply gathering around a fire with friends and singing cheerful songs for everyone to enjoy. (Well, everyone except for Squidward, of course). All that and more always managed to fill SpongeBob's already-pure heart with the utmost joy.
The spirit of that joy was extra generous to the lad this year.
"Goodness, what a beautiful day!" said SpongeBob, his tone of voice exuberant and his smile showcasing the jolliness in his heart. He sighed and stretched his arms, relieving the tension within them.
Oh, boy. I can't wait to see Sandy later! I wonder if she'll like my new set of clothes. SpongeBob glanced down at the dark-brown velvety pants that slightly hugged his upper legs while providing a nice little flare above his shoes. Even though he still loved his signature short-sleeve square pants and red tie, he had to admit – changing up his style for warmer, snazzy winter clothes made him feel like a new sponge! Perhaps even a manlier version of himself.
His cheeks puffed up and his teeth pressed into his lower lip in admiration of his long, brownish-grey sleeves and the burgundy stripe that ran down the center of his attire.
"Meow? (Drooling over yourself again, Papa-Bob?)"
SpongeBob's head snapped up, and he looked at his pet snail in embarrassment. How long had that little rascal been sitting there?
"Oh, good morning to you too, Gary!" he said, trying to forget the fact that he had been caught.
The mollusk stared at his owner with his eyelids half-closed, answering him in an uninterested tone. "Meow (I didn't say 'good morning' to begin with, but okay.)"
Oh, that Gary. Such a kidder.
SpongeBob released a short chuckle and gave Gary a wave of the hand while he reached up into the cupboard for a can of Snail-Po. "How about some breakfast, Gare?"
"Meow (Sounds good to me.)" He quietly slithered to his green bowl and waited to be served. There was nothing in the world that a snail loved more than his Po. At least, that was the case when it came to Gary.
"Oh, Gary," SpongeBob gushed, his insides tightening with excitement. "Today is gonna be so much fun! I'm going over to Sandy's place to help her decorate for tomorrow." He gently twisted the tin can to help the automatic opener remove the lid.
Gary rolled his eyes. "Meow (Yeah, I know. You've told me about this like seven time- )"
"We're gonna string up lights in her tree, and bake gingerbread cookies, and maybe even have a snowball fight! OH, I can hardly wait!" he leaped and giggled.
"Isn't Sandy supposed to be hibernating this time of year?" a familiar, deep voice behind SpongeBob asked.
SpongeBob nodded in response, maintaining his blissful smile as he pulled the lid off the can. "Oh, yeah, she is. But you see, some of Sandy's family is coming to visit her from Texas and she–wait… what?" he turned away from the counter and faced the table, raising his eyebrows. "Patrick? W-When did you get in here?"
Patrick, dressed in an ill-fitting, lime-green sweater with balls of fuzz all over the fabric, shrugged and looked at his best friend with a blank expression. "As soon as I heard the mentioning of gingerbread cookies," he showed a small smile and placed his hands behind his head, leaning back in the chair.
SpongeBob grinned in amusement and shook his head. He walked over and stood in front of Gary's bowl, dumping the mushy Snail-Po into it and casting his square shadow over his pet. "I'll ask Sandy if I can bring some home for you, Pat."
Patrick's eyes glowed with white specks, and he sprang forward in his seat. "Really? For me? WOO-HOO! Oh, boy," he rubbed his hands together and stared into space with a devilish grin. "I can just taste the warm, chewy arms and legs of one of those tasty gingerbread men!"
Gary looked up from his food and stared at the starfish, a bit disturbed while his eyelid twitched. "Meow (Jeez, I hope Sandy doesn't have any star-shaped cookie cutters.)"
SpongeBob turned and looked at him with curiosity while he poured himself a bowl of Kelp-O at the table. "Why's that, Gare-Bear?"
"Meow (Because then Tubby would be a cannibal.)"
SpongeBob inhaled harshly and ceased pouring the rest of the cereal. "Gary! Shame on you for saying such a thing!"
Patrick shrugged for the second time and flashed a look of indifference. "Oh, don't worry about it, SpongeBob."
The two looked at each other and shared a brotherly smile of understanding.
"I can't be insulted by a word I don't know the meaning of." Patrick kicked his feet up on the table without a care in the world.
SpongeBob and Gary looked at each other blankly. The cliché saying was true: ignorance is bliss.
Later…
As the mid-morning sun helped to spread some much-needed warmth throughout the water, SpongeBob's feet carried him through a thick layer of glittery snow. He worked hard each time he pulled a foot out from the crunchiness and pushed it back down. Boy, the walk to Sandy's place sure seemed long today.
But to him, it was worth it. He got the opportunity to help out one of his best friends and make sure that her homely air-dome was as bright, festive and welcoming as it possibly could be. That should be easy to accomplish, considering that the two were very hard workers and didn't quit until a job was done.
They were both also kind, considerate, and thoughtful.
Sure, the two differed in many, many ways; they were two totally different species, for starters. However, as was the case for most friends, they did still share similar traits and had things in common.
Well, except in the intelligence department. SpongeBob had a brain and was certainly smarter than Patrick, but his head was no match for the air-breathing scientist's skilled mind. Still, that didn't get in the way of most things between them.
No, there was something a little different that had been getting in the way as of late. Something that, while neither of them wanted to admit was there, was undoubtedly still there.
Neither had any way of knowing whether that "something" was going to stay dormant today or if it was going to bloom like a beautiful, red rose.
The danger of that happening was quite high.
It was Christmas time, that warm and cozy time of year when romance was prevalent in nearly every corner. Happily married couples gifting each other something special, fish-folks strolling down the ice-covered sidewalks (proceeding to slip and almost fall until one caught the other in an unexpected, awkward embrace), and how could one forget about… mistletoe?
SpongeBob approached the outside of the Treedome, adjusting his grey earmuffs and throwing one end of his red scarf over his shoulder before he pressed the button that activated the doorbell.
Five seconds… ten seconds…
SpongeBob glanced at his wristwatch, then rang once more.
Thirty seconds…
His smile turned into a small frown, and he rubbed his knuckle with his bare hand. With the temperature the way that it was, he regretted not bringing his mittens.
Hmm… that's funny. Sandy usually buzzes me in at around the seven and a half second mark. Maybe she's too busy to come to the door… or, even worse… maybe she's frozen and has turned into a helpless squirrelsicle! He gasped, slapping his cold hands against his cheeks. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't help her out of such a terrible (albeit stupid and unlikely) position!
Using all his strength, he gripped the icy-cold wheel to the door and twisted it open, grunting lowly in the process. Once open, he shut it behind him as quickly as possible to avoid too much water invading the corridor.
SpongeBob wasted no time in entering through the last exit. He pushed the door open, breathing hard and speaking in a panicked tone. "Don't worry, Sandy! I'll think of something to break you out of that ice!"
The muscles in his face relaxed, and his eyes scanned the giant room in amazement.
Tiny, soft flurries floated down and landed onto a sparkling white and blue blanket that veiled the grass. Something about the snow in Sandy's Treedome always made the snow outside look… grubby. Perhaps it was the crisp, clean air that produced such a pure result. After all, the ocean water was high in turbidity.
"Whoa…" he murmured, stepping inside and closing the squeaky door. His head wandered in many directions as he took in the beauty of the current state of the dome. The oak tree itself was covered in ice crystals and blobs of snow on certain branches. One thing that stuck out more than the other things was a long cord of Christmas lights that were wrapped around the trunk of the tree, waiting to be worked all throughout it and eventually plugged in.
He stuck his hands in his pockets before abruptly stopping at the sight of Sandy sitting at the picnic table, her back turned and one leg crossed over the other.
"Oh, she's okay. Thank goodness," he said, smiling.
"Uh-huh. Well, what time do y'all think you'll get here?" Sandy asked, holding her wooden telephone up to her ear.
Her sister Rosy was doing all she could to remain un-irritated by her three little monster squirrels as they ran around and caused trouble at the airport. "Well, I'd say we should probably be there no later than six or seven tomorrow, Sis. It's gonna one long plane ride to that bus that takes us down to your part of the ocean."
"YAH!" Macadamia flew in the air and kicked a raccoon in the face, knocking him to the ground and causing him to drop his cell phone.
Rosy cringed and breathed a heavy sigh. "Yep… one… long plane ride."
The sounds of Sandy's three rambunctious nieces filled her ears through the receiver. "Ha, ha, ha, ha!" she chuckled at the noises and the drained tone of her sister's voice. Though she felt sympathy for Rosy having to live with them and their behavior, she would be lying if she said it wasn't sometimes hilarious to hear that she was so sick of it. And gall-darn it, she really was.
SpongeBob's smile grew even larger from her laughter. Sandy was a tough and masculine woman, but the way that she giggled reminded him of a little girly-girl. An incredibly adorable little girly-girl.
"Well, just know I'll be sittin' here praying that ya make it in one piece, Rosy. You keep them little critters under control, k?" she nodded.
Rosy's voice came through the phone sounding like a mouse speaking gibberish. SpongeBob couldn't understand a word.
"Alrighty, see ya tomorrow, bye!" Sandy said in a cheerful tone. She placed the receiver down on the hook and sighed in contentment. Pulling the soft, light purple fabric of her dress up a bit, she turned from the edge of the seat and faced the table with a smile.
"Hi, Sandy!"
"Hah!" she gasped at the voice that came out of nowhere. She breathed out heavy breaths and looked out a few feet to the side of her, her expression turning slightly annoyed. However, instead of scolding him for scaring her (and the fact it looked he was spying on her), she quickly wiped that look off her face and smiled. How could she get angry with that innocent, sheepish smile he was giving her?
"Well, hey, SpongeBob! How long have ya been standin' there?"
SpongeBob clasped his hands behind his back. His smiling eyes drifted off toward the ceiling, and his nervous right foot twisted itself around in the snow. "Oh, I've been here only a minute or two. I rang the bell, but I figured you were busy, so I just came in."
Saying that she was "busy" (which was something he did consider at first) was far easier and less embarrassing to admit to than telling her he had then thought she was frozen solid and in need of saving.
"Oh. I guess I was so caught up on the phone with Rosy, I just didn't hear ya. Sorry 'bout that, little buddy." The way her eyebrows curved let him know that she was truly disappointed with herself.
He stepped closer and pulled his hands from his pockets, waving them at her. "Oh, that's okay! Don't worry about it. At least I'm not out in the cold anymore!" he smiled.
Sandy glanced up at their surroundings, then looked back at him questioningly. "Uh…"
SpongeBob's pulse sped up at the embarrassment he felt from his words. "Oh, yeah. Dahaha!" he laughed. Oh, barnacles. What a stupid thing to say, SpongeBob! He thought in a deprecating voice.
Oh, there was that awkwardness again. It had been happening to them a lot lately. He lost count how many times he had said something dumb whenever he came to see her. In reality, it was no dumber than anything he usually said, but the rapport between seemed to be… changing; as a result, things flew out of his mouth that made even the words of Patrick sound smart, and that affected him so strangely.
"Anyway," said Sandy, dragging out the word. "Are ya ready to get crackin' and do some decoratin'?" she bit her bottom lip with her large buckteeth and looked at him with hope in her eyes.
SpongeBob was grateful that she changed the subject. "Oh, YEAH! You bet I'm ready, San-day!" he grinned and clenched his fists.
"Great! I've got some of the stuff kinda sprawled out everywhere, but I reckon I've got lots more shiny and pretty things hidden up in that ol' upstairs closet we can sift through." She scooted out from the bench and stood, allowing SpongeBob to get a good view of her.
Speaking of pretty things…
The lovely shade of purple that made up her long-sleeve dress was complemented by the pure-white ruffle around her neck and collarbone, along with matching buttons that came down the front and looked as delicate as the snow flurries. And for once, the squirrel was wearing something other than her grey space boots; her furry feet were kept extra warm by a black pair of slippers, and white, lacy socks peeked above them.
SpongeBob released a heavy breath that resulted in thick, moist fog, and he slowly smiled. She looked so elegant and old-fashioned, like a classy lady getting ready for bed in the days of the Old West. "Wow, Sandy. That's a really nice outfit! Dahaha, listen to me," he waved at the air and rolled his eyes. "I sound like Pearl."
Sandy chuckled and looked down at herself. "Aw, shucks! Ya mean this ol' thing? Belonged to my great granny in the olden days of Texas. She used to wear it all the time while she busted her butt doin' housework for my great grandpappy."
SpongeBob invested all his attention in her words. His smile only seemed to grow sweeter the more she spoke.
"Yessiree Bob, just this simple piece of clothin' brings back a whole lot of memories to your ol' squirrely pal." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked straight ahead as scenes played in front of her; scenes that were originally painted in her imagination by her late grandmother. "Well, even though I wasn't there to live through it, I surely know that life was a lot different back in those days, SpongeBob. Things were tough."
"And pretty, too."
Sandy's head tilted down in his direction. The questioning, unsure look on her face made SpongeBob wish that he could stuff a chunk of snow into his mouth to stop spewing any more words that could possibly get him into trouble.
"Uh… aha, ah, ha, ha! I-I mean, I'm just saying since… t-that dress is so pretty and it came from those old, dusty days you're talking about, I-I just thought that… that those days must've been… well, you know…?"
"Pretty?" she answered flatly.
He nodded in a quick manner. "Y-Yeah… pretty. So, so very pretty. I know that probably doesn't make much sense, but… oh, do you get what I mean?" He pressed his lips together tightly, keeping his hands behind his back. Why did his face suddenly feel so hot? It was freezing cold in there!
Sandy glanced off to the side, a faint, crooked smile crossing her lips. "Uh… yeah. I think I get it. Thanks, SpongeBob." Secretly feeling just as awkward as she imagined he was feeling, she looked back at him and noticed that she wasn't the only one wearing something different.
"Hey, speakin' of fancy getups, I like yours!"
SpongeBob's eyebrows raised high, and his breathing pattern began to change from normal to… well, one could say that it sounded like he had just come back from jogging. "R-really? You really like it, Sandy? Heh, thanks." He brushed his shoulder as if it was covered in sand. "It was just something I had hangin' around for a couple of years. I made it myself in my free time, actually." He shut his eyes and exuded an arrogance that was just begging to be torn down.
"Uh, are you sure about that, SpongeBob?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Why, yes, I am sure of it, Sandy. Why ever do you ask?"
"'Cause, uh…"
SpongeBob's hubris was thrown fifty yards when Sandy leaned toward his sleeve and grabbed the little beige tag that read: $24.95 – Fancy Pants Emporium.
Sandy tilted her head to the side as he looked up at her with mortified eyes. "Heh, heh… Sandy, I, uh- "
"Why don't we just get to work?"
It was too bad that it was snowing and he did not need his helmet. The blue tint from the water could've done something to help disguise his reddening cheeks.