Sheesh, this is a REALLY long chapter, guys. I tried to shave off as much as I could but there's still so much. I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters; all rights go to Nickelodeon, Stephen Hillenburg, and Viacom. I also do not own the classic Christmas song that I am (sort of) parodying.
Holly Jolly Help
"Let's see now…" Sandy, now wearing her baking apron, licked her finger and turned the page of the giant Texas Treats recipe book, landing on 'Mouthwatering Holiday Gingerbread Men'. "Got lots of things to gather up for these here cookies."
SpongeBob stood by her as her helpful assistant. "Well, then, I'll get to gathering!' he said, smiling with cheer. "What shall I deliver to thee first, boss lady?" he held his hand against his forehead in salute, which made her want to chuckle.
Was it possible for him to become even more winsome than he already was? If that were the case, she might have no choice but to crack and squeeze him in a bone-crushing hug just to teach him a lesson for driving her crazy with his endearing ways; it would be meant to hurt him, not love him, of course.
"Hmm, let me have another look-see," she said, peering down at the first item on the list. "looks like I'll need one and a half sticks of butter."
"Butter, gotcha!" he ran to the refrigerator, opening its door and letting the cold out. He poked his head inside, searching until he came upon the correct compartment to his right. "I got it, Sandy! Oh, I mean boss lady, tee-hee," he giggled.
She smiled broadly at him. "Good job, lab partner! I-I mean," she shook her head. "SpongeBob." She was so used to having him assist her with science experiments that it came naturally to her to address him by that "proper title" (after he had bugged her about it many times before).
"So, what next?" he asked.
"Mmm…" she peeked at the text again. "Next thing is molasses."
"Oh! You mean that sticky brown stuff, huh? Okay. Where can I find it in here?"
"It should be on the bottom shelf, all the way to the left."
He shoved his head in further, finding a clear bottle with the gooey substance contained within it. "Got it!" he said, turning back and holding it up high.
"Very good! Now, it's time for an egg."
"Got that, too!"
"Great! Now, some sweet brown sugar."
"Check!" he said after digging through the contents of the pantry.
"Alrighty! And now…" she skimmed her finger across the page. "We need…"
"Many minutes of speedy searching later…" said the French narrator.
SpongeBob had just finished darting back and forth between all areas in the open kitchen, wherever the contents that they needed were located. He stood breathless, his arms filled to their maximum capacity with thirteen baking ingredients, and some bowls and wooden spoons. "Got everything now, boss lady," he said in a muffled and pained voice.
Sandy had walked away from the book and was busy futzing with the temperature on the oven. "Fantastic! Now, just hold on a second and I'll be right there to— "
CRASH! PING, PING!
Sandy looked up at him after the ear-shattering noise. He stood there in stiff embarrassment, with his arms broken off, and everything that was in them, moments before, was now all over the floor.
He offered her a diffident grin. "Heh, heh… well, I had everything. But hey, at least nothing's broken!"
The egg slid off the bowl that was turned upside down, cracking open and creating a goopy mess. SpongeBob suddenly found the ceiling to be fascinating as he shifted his eyes up toward it and began whistling.
Sandy's face showed a bored scowl, and she resisted the very strong urge to tap her foot against the floor like a rabbit. What she had said about him earlier came spinning back like a boomerang, just as true as ever.
What am I gonna do with you?
Later…
After picking things up, SpongeBob helped to add ingredients into a bowl for Sandy to make the dough.
Sandy hunched over the work-in-progress, squinting down at it as if it was a dangerous mixture of chemicals. It left a curious SpongeBob to place a finger against his lip while he studied her. Much like the way he loved it whenever she became aggressive, he loved how focused she could be on things ranging from something as complicated as science to a simple dessert being made for her family.
"Say, I think this is just about ready to be rolled out," she smiled. "Why don't ya take a look right there and pick out which cookie cutters we should use?"
"Ooh, okay! This should be fun," he said happily, turning around to look at the stainless-steel objects.
Seeing that the dough had become the correct mixture of firmness and fluffiness, Sandy flipped the bowl, dumping the squishy ball onto the cutting board. "So… just what exactly was Pat talkin' about earlier?"
SpongeBob's hands stopped where they were. He stared at the counter, trying to assemble his thoughts after hearing her question. "Oh, bahaha! Heh, n-nothing really important. Like I said, it was just Patty being Patty."
"You sure he wasn't talkin' about sittin' in the tree and kissin'?"
It suddenly felt as though his hands were on fire again, and he yanked them back, knocking one of the cookie cutters off the counter. He quickly ducked to pick it up and put it back in its place. "Wha— k-k-KISSING? Why, whatever was it that gave you the idea that Patrick was talking about something of that nature?" he turned and looked at her.
"Well, I wasn't sure I heard him correctly at first. But after thinkin' about it for a while, I could pretty much gather what he said. After all, I was sittin' right next to ya and could hear that voice of his." She shrugged; her expression nonchalant.
SpongeBob blinked. "Well, I guess that makes sense. Pat does talk pretty loudly sometimes, heh."
"Yep, he surely does."
Simultaneously, they could no longer take each other's eyes and turned back to their tasks; just in time too, because the heat from SpongeBob's hands was starting to spread to his face.
Sandy's rolling out of the dough became slower and more labored, while SpongeBob was having trouble keeping his focus on which cookie cutters to pick. Neither one knew of the right words to address the idea of them engaging in something as intimate as what Patrick was making fun of, so SpongeBob decided to change the subject.
"So, uh…" he began, walking back to stand next to her. Having her eyes on him gave him a jump of nervous enthusiasm. "I picked some really cool ones!" he set them down one at a time. "A cowboy boot, a cowboy hat, the classic gingerbread man, a slim candy cane, and finally a— " his eyes bulged when he noticed the familiar pointy shape of it. "…sea… star…" he swallowed hard, remembering Gary's snide comment from that morning. "Gosh, I hope Patrick doesn't look up that word in the dictionary."
"What word was that?" she asked.
"Canni— ah, never mind, it doesn't matter, ahaha," he pushed the cursed cutter further from him with his finger, staring warily at it.
"Well, I think ya made some great choices here. Y'all are welcome to take some cookies home with ya later if ya want to." She said with a smile.
"Oh, yeah! Thanks for reminding me. I was actually going to ask you if I could," he smiled up at her. Once their eyes met, his stomach took off again like it had done while he was swinging on that rope and hanging lights around the Treedome. "I-I mean, for Patrick, of course," he looked down at his hands, twirling his fingers.
She questioned if he was playing a game of 'being extra cute' or if it was just coming out naturally. Either way, it was getting to her without her even realizing it. She giggled, grabbing a few of the cutters and pressing them firmly into the dough. "Oh, don't be silly. You can take some for yourself. It's only fair; you helped make 'em, baking partner." She nudged him in the most ticklish area on his stomach, making him place his hand over it.
He stared at her, stunned. Was she flirting with him? It reminded him of the time when he had complimented her about her "meticulous nature" and the way she had responded with a blush, and the batting of her eyelashes. It had annoyed him then, but the waggish way that someone acted when they had an attraction toward another person was beginning to make sense to him, now that it was happening again.
He rubbed his arm, chuckling and glancing off to the side. "Haha, well, thank you… uh… w-what title should I address you by now? We seem to be partners in everything." He grasped the sea star-shaped cutter again and pressed it, without thinking of how Patrick might react to the finished product if he had indeed looked up that word in the dictionary. "or should I still go with 'boss lady' or— "
"How's about we take our birth names for another spin, SpongeRobert?" she smiled, concentrating on creating each shape until all the dough would eventually disappear.
"Great idea, Sandra."
Silly smirks were exchanged through side-glances. This was certainly turning out to be a different holiday than all the others they had celebrated in the past.
Many more pressings and accidentally touching hands more than once, and the cookies were ready to be baked to perfection.
"There, we have success!" she said, sharing a satisfied smile with him.
"Oh, I'll bet they're gonna taste great! I hope your nieces will enjoy them," he said giddily, squeezing his hands together while watching her carefully place two trays into the hot oven and close the door.
"You bet your darn squeaky shoes they will! They'll eat anything," she said, making a wide gesture with her hands and eyes.
"Especially if it's made with sugar, right?" he grinned and squinted in a mischievous way.
"Right."
Was that quick little blink of her eyelid meant to be taken as another flirtatious hint?
"Well, I guess we'd better start cleaning up this mess, huh?"
The island, as well as the floor, were covered in flour and crumbles of dough.
"Yeah," she sighed with a slight smile. "think it'd be nice to give the radio a listen to keep us goin'."
Across the way, on the left corner of the counter, was a small, red and square box, with long antennas. Sandy strolled over to it, picking it up to hit the 'on' button and twisting the dial until she landed on a station.
"Well, good evenin', all you fishy-folks out there!" a male voice with a southern accent said through the speaker. "we hope y'all are havin' a fantastic Christmas Eve, no matter what you're doin'!"
The man's perkiness made Sandy shake her head while she swept the flour off the island into her hand with a towel. "Well, somebody seems to be feelin' the spirit tonight."
"That's right, squirrelly, I really am!" he responded as if he was in the room with them.
Sandy and SpongeBob glanced at each other inquisitively before he spoke again.
"If any of y'all listenin' would like to make a generous donation to our station, please give us a call and let us know at 1-800-343-7849, or 1-800-Fid-Stix - short for 'Fiddlesticks'!"
SpongeBob shook his head, pursing his lips to the side. "Mm, I wish I could, but I'm afraid I can't right now. I still don't have room on any of my credit cards."
"Aw, well, that's unfortunate, sponge-man."
SpongeBob looked at Sandy with wide eyes. All she could do was chuckle at the absurdity that was happening.
"Anyhow, it's now time for y'all to get up off your dang seats and do a jig to the next classic song with a country twist on our playlist!"
The crisp sounds of electric and acoustic guitars, mixed beautifully with piano, fiddle, and drums, came flowing from the speaker in the tune of 'Jingle Bells.'
SpongeBob casually rocked his head to the music, while crouching to the floor with the wooden broom and dustpan to sweep up the debris. "Ooh, I like that! It's so catchy, it almost makes me want to dance!"
Sandy was on the same note – except that she was already dancing. She couldn't stop her foot from tapping along to the lively rhythm. Her ears were perked and listening closely to the infectious sounds of the fiddles that reminded her of Texas, while her eyes were closed, and her finger wagged like the tail of a dog.
"Hey, now there's an idea. Let's do it!" she said, taking off her apron.
SpongeBob stood up, looking at her surprised while holding the dustpan and broom. "But, Sandy, I thought we were cleaning up! WHOA!"
SpongeBob yelped as she grabbed his hands and caused him to drop everything he was holding. She pulled him into the living room with force, nearly making him float off the ground.
"We were, but that can wait," she beamed. Picking up the sides of her dress, she twirled and skipped around him in a circle, her heart beginning to beat fast as she kicked her body into motion. "Yeehaw!" she cheered.
SpongeBob twisted his head around several times to watch her enjoy herself. He wanted like nothing else to participate but was afraid of embarrassing himself again. He sucked his lips in and stared into space, wishing that he wasn't as stiff as a statue and that he could bring himself to move like her. He knew a lot about things such as slow dancing, but not much about the type of dancing she wanted to do with him.
Sandy now shifted her weight between her feet as she looked at him. "Well, come on, SpongeBob! Don't just stand there, dance with me! It'll be fun."
"Oh, I don't know, Sandy," he held his arm, looking sadly at the floor. "I don't really know how to dance like people do in Texas."
Sandy smiled at his shyness. This time only came once a year and getting to experience such excitement as hearing a type of music that gave her nostalgia while being there with one of her best friends was something that she wanted to take advantage of.
"Ah, don't go doubtin' yourself. It's easy, just…" she stepped forward, holding onto his shoulders and positioning him just right. "follow my lead."
Though her smile was tempting, he was still unconvinced.
Sandy began to instruct him by stepping slightly to the left and walking forward, passing him by the right shoulder. She slid behind him so that they were back-to-back, then walked back to pass him by the left shoulder and stood in front of him again. "That one's called the 'Do-Si-do'," she said, putting her hands on her hips and waiting for his response.
Seeing how easy the move looked, SpongeBob's straight mouth grew into a smile. "Hmm, seems simple enough. Alright, I'll try it."
Together, they repeated the steps, SpongeBob paying attention to the movements of their feet. His unsureness was starting to unravel as they performed a 'Seesaw', which was a left-shoulder Do-Si-do.
He bit his lip, smiling with building enthusiasm. "Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this!"
"See? I knew you would! Now it's time for the 'Allemande'."
"I-I'm sorry, the Alle-what?"
She rolled her eyes. "This."
They stopped in front of each other and joined their right hands together, bending their elbows. They circled around one another, Sandy looking at him while he continued to study their feet. They went around once, then stopped where they started.
With the music blaring in the background, and the trust that was shared, SpongeBob now felt fully encouraged. "Ooh, ooh, I liked that! Can we do it again, please?"
Sandy smiled brightly at his change in attitude. It was sweet and wholesome to see him break out of his doubts and look at her with those innocent eyes. "Why, sure! In fact, it's time for an 'Allemande Left'."
They reversed by joining left hands and going around once again; this time, however, SpongeBob kept his eyes on hers.
She proceeded to teach him how to 'Balance', which was done by facing each other and joining hands, each stepping forward on their right foot and back on the left. After getting used to everything, she taught him a 'Contra Swing'. They started by standing next to each other, holding hands. They then faced one another, stepping slightly to their lefts, standing right hip to right hip.
SpongeBob became shy again when he wasn't sure where to put his hands, but Sandy guided them; placing his right arm around her back, and his left arm extended, forming a cradle. She put her left hand on his right shoulder, and her right hand in his left, bending both their elbows. They circled around clockwise, walking smoothly.
The two were now as bouncy as the tune playing around them. "Woo! Oh, Sandy, you were right; this is fun!" SpongeBob said, buoyantly.
" ' Course it is! Nothin' beats movin' like you're at a Texas dance hall. Yeehaw!"
The room erupted into a fit of giggles as they linked arms and swung around each other like two children at a playground. But of course, like all good things, it had to end.
They were paying no mind to how dangerously close they were getting to a table in the corner of the room, with a lineup of vials; some empty, and some containing chemicals. Suddenly, as his left arm was extended, it came into contact with one of the glass objects, knocking it onto the floor and shattering it into tiny pieces.
They froze, and the music did too; screeching like a needle across a vinyl record. SpongeBob stared at the mess with a blank face until he glanced up at her, his mortification setting in.
"Oops… ah, heh, heh…" he chuckled nervously. What a way to ruin the fun. "Sorry, Sandy."
Sandy was in such good spirits, almost nothing could bother her. She shrugged, going back into the kitchen to get the broom and dustpan. "Eh, it's okay."
"Y-you mean you're not mad?"
"Naw! It's just one vial."
As if it had heard her, another one crashed from above her head, leaving her to sigh in defeat.
SpongeBob had to hold his breath to see if her attitude would change, but it didn't. "Heh, it looks like you'll have to teach those vials some manners, eh?"
Sandy shook her head and smiled, setting aside the broom and dustpan and standing up. "I'm in the mood for tea, how about you?"
"Oh, sure."
While Sandy set up her red tea kettle on the stovetop and checked on the cookies in the oven, the announcer spoke through the radio again. "Alrighty, folks. Now it's time for another classic -and my personal favorite- 'Silver Shells'! So, grab your partner and, instead of swingin' 'em, hold 'em close and whisper all those little lovey-dovey secrets you've been meanin' to tell 'em since you first met," he said with deviousness and a smile that no one could see.
SpongeBob and Sandy shared a look from across the room. As soon as the charming, soft melody began to play, the same thought came to them. They couldn't… could they?
Sandy walked back toward him; if only she knew the way it looked to him when she did. His heart pounded hard enough to be seen, as he knew what was coming.
"Why don't we try somethin' a little more laid-back?" she asked, stopping in front of him.
"You mean like slow dancing?"
"Yeah," she nodded, smiling.
"Ahaha! O-okay, yeah… t-that's kind of what I was thinking."
"Y'all okay?"
He looked up, giving her the calmest smile that he could muster. "Oh, yeah, I am." He gulped, leaning past her and staring at the roaring fire. "Just getting a little hot in here."
"Well, I can open the window again if ya— "
"No, no, that's okay, haha. I'm sure I can get used to it. Uh… shall we?"
Sandy looked down at his open palm. For a person so small, he sure was a big gentleman. She smiled, taking his offer.
With his right hand in her left, his left arm around her back, and her right arm around his back, they swayed from side to side, occasionally shifting on their feet as the deep, soothing voice of a male singer filled the room.
Silver shells,
Silver shells,
It's Christmas time in Fish City…
SpongeBob looked at the radio, a way to fix their lack of conversation entering his mind. "Gee, I heard there's a lot of crime in that city, with all those fishy people living there," he grinned sheepishly.
"I heard that, too. The whole ocean's full of all kinds of fishy people, unfortunately."
"Goodness, I never thought I'd see the day that I'd get a headache from a bad joke," the French narrator rubbed his diving helmet where his temples would be, sitting in his submarine out in the middle of the sea.
They couldn't decide what to look at. The lights on the walls were rather interesting, and so was the fire and the tree, but they still were not enough to stop their eyes from continuing to search.
"Hey, Sandy?"
"Yeah?"
"Um, I… just wanted to say I'm sorry for messing up so many things today."
Their eyes finally found each other. His were as shimmery as they were regretful.
Sandy gave him a warm smile of understanding. "Aw, you didn't mess anything up, SpongeBob."
"But... I caught myself on fire… a-and I dropped all that stuff in the kitchen and broke one of your chemical vials, and I'm even stepping on your foot right now!"
They looked down to see that his left foot was indeed on top of hers. Sandy cleared her throat, raising her brow at him.
"Oh, right, sorry." He pulled his black shoe off her soft slipper.
"It doesn't really matter if we have a few slipups here and there, SpongeBob. Nothing can be perfect, but today was about as close to it as it could possibly be," she spoke sincerely.
Sandy, just like everybody else in town, could get easily annoyed by SpongeBob's antics. And when she would really let them get to her, she'd even get angry with him. But he had been kind enough to help her on such short notice; willing to spend the entire day getting everything ready just to give her sister and nieces something to look forward to. She figured she'd be crazy if she allowed herself to get more than just a tiny bit irritated by any stupid thing he had done.
"Really? But… how is that so, Sandy?" SpongeBob asked, cocking his head to the side in puzzlement.
"Easy," she shrugged, losing herself in his curious gaze. "we got this place all whipped into shape, right?"
"Right."
"And we had lots of fun while doin' it, didn't we?"
"Uh-huh, that's true."
"Ya see?" she smiled at him, which he returned.
"Yeah, I see."
"Is there anything you can think to add?"
Looking into her pretty brown eyes, the answer came to him without trouble. "We got to spend time together."
Even though he stated it so plainly, his words held a profoundness that tied itself around her heart in a perfect bow. How something so simple could touch her so deeply was remarkable. His sweet honesty was one of the best things about him, and she had never appreciated it as much as she did right now.
"Yeah…" she looked at him with affection and leaned in close, gently pressing her fluffy cheek against the side of his head. "we sure did."
SpongeBob's mouth gaped open at her tender decision. They had never experienced each other this way before; their skin touching, and his face up against her shoulder. She smelled strongly of acorns and cedarwood, and her grandmother's dress was as soft as a knitted blanket, giving him a feeling of comfort.
The country twang coming from the song tickled Sandy's ears. This reminded her of the story of her great grandmother's first dance with Sandy's great grandfather. The differences were that they had been in a cold barn, surrounded by cattle, ducks, and chickens, and both had been born the same species. But the sense of true friendship and love were present in both cases.
Oh, wow… SpongeBob thought, his head and heart flooding with emotions. There was something about what was happening that didn't feel quite right in a sense; were friends supposed to get this close to one another?
Gosh, I never knew just how comfy Sandy's shoulder is— oh! W-wait a minute, what am I thinking? She's one of my best friends, this isn't right! T-this is—
Sandy tightened her arm around his back, pressing him deeper into her. It was becoming very apparent that she felt this was right, considering that she wanted him as close to her as possible.
SpongeBob became like melted chocolate in her embrace. His heart thumped against her stomach, and hers against the edge of his cheek. The look on the side of his face that peeked out from her shoulder was the silliest, most innocent beam of enchantment; his eyelid half-closed, and half his lips curved into what would be a horseshoe-shaped smile.
This is… just… ohh, I don't even know what it is, but it feels so wonderful. He sighed blissfully, bringing Sandy back to Earth. She pulled away and looked down at his goofy expression.
Her heartfelt smile faded into concern. "Wow, the heat really must be gettin' to ya."
"What makes you say that?" he asked, still smiling at her like a lovesick fool.
"Your cheeks are lookin' redder than two chili peppers."
His face jumped into a look of embarrassment and surprise. Oh, my! Is it really that obvious?! I knew my face felt kind of hot, but…
He quickly slapped a hand against his right cheek, chuckling. "Heh, heh! M-must be the fabric of your dress; it's so warm."
"Yeah, I suppose…" she shifted her eyes away from him. "but I don't remember my shoulder feelin' so hot until ya— "
"Time for the twirling part, wee!" he hastily interrupted, just barely stretching his arm above her head and spinning her around until they stood feet away, their hands still connected.
She could go on to question why he had decided to change up the moves so suddenly, and the issue of his burning-red face. But she had to admit that she was enjoying both too much to even care; after all, he was light on his feet and looked adorable when he was so flushed.
"Now it's your turn to get dizzy," she teased, stepping forward slightly and twirling him until his back was tucked into her. Holding his hand, she wrapped both their arms around his stomach, hitting that sensitive spot again.
"Tee-hee! I'm not dizzy, but I am ticklish. Bahaha!" he giggled, causing her to do the same.
SpongeBob's nerves now had something else to focus on, as they spun around the room in carefree ways that no longer matched the rhythm of the music. However, that didn't last long.
It was time for another accident. While spinning around, they bumped into the side of a tree trunk, causing bunches of leaves and strange-looking berries to fall.
"Ow!" they groaned, rubbing their heads and necks while still standing in position.
"Well, so much for 'laid back'," she said, sighing.
SpongeBob wasn't too worried about the pain from hitting himself anymore. He was more taken by the white balls that sat near their feet. "Hey, Sandy, those little berries look kind of familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on what they are or where they come from," he said while placing his hand under his chin.
Sandy looked down at them, then bent to pick up a handful. She lifted them to her nostrils, sniffing them. "Well, I'll be darned. These here poisonous little suckers must belong to— "
More fell between them. Slowly, they tilted their heads and looked up at the green, parasitic plant attached to the thick branch. It was as if it was staring them in their faces, daring them to make a move.
"Oh, yeah!" SpongeBob said cheerily. "Now I remember, they come from mistle… toe."
They looked at each other, both expecting the other to make an excuse to get out of this terribly awkward situation.
"Heh, heh," he laughed. "I-I don't remember hanging that up there today."
"Well, hey, I don't remember doin' it either. In fact, I know I didn't. It must be growin' right out of my tree," she said, looking up at it.
The music was nearing its end, and it was becoming a bit senseless for them to just keep standing there, holding each other like they were going to resume their dance.
"Pfft, such a silly tradition, huh?" he rolled his eyes, just as she looked back at him.
Truthfully, SpongeBob had always liked the romantic holiday custom; he found two people sharing their love in such a sugary-sweet way to be one of the loveliest ideas out there, but he never imagined himself getting stuck in a position to continue that custom, especially with a close friend. Now, it suddenly felt like it wasn't such a good idea. Or, at least, it was a good time to pretend that it wasn't.
Sandy was the one who told him about the tradition many years before, but now she was just as ready to push it aside as he was. Nothing wrong with faking it for a bit, right?
"Ha, ha," she chuckled lightly. "y-yeah, I'll say. Why, I don't think I've ever heard of anything as silly as that."
"Yeah. I mean, really, kissing under a poisonous shrub? Pft, what could they possibly think of next?"
"Woo-wee! You said it."
The delicate sparkles in his blue eyes were starting to do awfully strange things to her head. And the fact that those yellow lips looked mighty pleasing at the moment was only dragging her further into the trance she was beginning to fall under.
SpongeBob's heart was beating faster than it had all day. Oh, my… is… is Sandy looking at my… my… no, she can't be! She can't be looking there. Wait a minute… why does she seem to be getting closer? I think I saw this in a movie once… I don't remember how it ended but I could take a good guess on how it did. Maybe… she just wants to see if there's something in my teeth? Yeah! Yeah, t-that's gotta be it. Oh, but what if there's something caught in her teeth, too? I'd better take a closer look, just to check it out.
He was slowly rising to his tippy toes. However, he wasn't doing a very good job at examining her teeth. He became more interested in the soft-looking cushions that surrounded them.
"Gosh, you know, I… I don't even know why… people do it at all. It's just… so silly."
"Extremely silly."
"The silliest thing in the whole world."
"That's for dang sure."
He couldn't stand any higher on his toes, so she was working to fix the problem by lowering her head. Friends help each other out, do they not?
"Gee, that's funny. I-I'm… starting to feel a little woozy here, heh."
"Are ya?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what do ya know? I am, too."
Their voices became soft and dreamlike the nearer that she inched, slowly closing the distance. Looking into the eyes of one another, they lost themselves completely.
Neither was thinking clearly; their minds were fogged-up like frost over glass. SpongeBob's panicky thoughts had disintegrated. He still couldn't believe this was happening, but he was already plummeting into it as if it were a land of never-ending magical spells, and he couldn't stop himself.
Perhaps there was some truth to Patrick's teasing. They may not have been sitting in a tree this time, but they were still inside of one, nonetheless.
As their hearts pounded, the tip of his nose brushed against hers, and their eyelids shut. 'Silver Shells' came to a peaceful end, just as their puckered lips were about to meet.
A high-pitched whistling sound pierced the air and their eardrums, and both sets of eyes burst open. They had been unpleasantly awakened from their dream and were now getting smacked with reality.
"Ah!" he gasped, falling toward her off his toes.
"Whoa, careful there!"
She caught him; one hand on his chest, and the other around his arm. They were in an even more awkward place than before, as they couldn't seem to stop staring at each other with shock.
"What in tarnation?" she said.
Their heads finally swiveled around the room, looking to see where that noise was coming from.
The tea kettle had been left unattended and was shooting steam from its spout; bouncing around on the burner. It did seem to be hot in there, in more ways than one.
Sandy left his side, the wind from her rushing off blowing by him. She made it to the stove and turned off the fire.
"Tea's ready!" she looked over at SpongeBob, who suddenly felt as though he was melting into a chocolate puddle again.
"Uh… oh, thanks a lot, Sandy. I wish I could have some, but…" he tapped his fingers together. "I-I've gotta get home and cook dinner."
Sandy watched him like she was witnessing an escaping criminal. She quickly caught up with him before he could leave. "O-oh, really? Well, darn! That's just too bad."
He kicked at the floor, his hands behind his back and his eyes wandering again. "Ha, ha, well, a sponge has got to eat."
"Are ya sure I can't fix ya somethin' here? I've got plenty of food."
"Oh, no! No need for that, aha. I've got Gary to worry about, too." His eyes were now fixed on her, even as he felt for his scarf and earmuffs that were hanging over a hook on the wall. "poor guy must be famished. That is if he hasn't already chewed up the sofa, bahaha! Oh, but if he hasn't, and he's still hungry, Patrick's there to feed him! Oh, but wait... he always forgets how to use the can opener. Well, darn! I guess it's still up to me then, ahaha! Besides, I think I've been up here a bit too long anyway; my holes are starting to feel a little… parched."
Sandy blinked from his rapid speech pattern. "Yeah, I-I suppose since I closed the window, it's gotten to be a bit dry in here."
"Yep, well, see ya later, Sandy. It's been a great day. Glad I could help you out." He skidded on his heels when she called him back. Barnacles!
"Oh, wait! Don't forget the cookies. They should be about done."
"Oh, yeah! Sheesh, I don't know what's going through this head of mine."
He knew just exactly what was going through it: the thought of her lips coming ridiculously close to touching his.
"I-I think I'll just go take them out." He ran past her and into the kitchen.
Sandy shook her head quickly, following him. "SpongeBob, no! Don't— "
He stuck his hands into the oven, without thinking about the consequences. "Oh, oh, o-ow, ouch! OH, MOTHER OF PEARL, THIS IS HOT!"
Like the tea kettle, the scorching tray bounced until it landed on the counter, rattling loudly.
From wrist to fingertips, his hands were bright red. "Oh, not again," he grumpily moaned.
Sandy couldn't figure out if she was irritated by his rash decision or if she felt sorry for him. "Well, I tried to warn ya! Here, let me help ya." She went to grab them, intending to run them under cold water. But he retracted them inside his sleeves faster than she could blink.
"N-no, that's okay! I can just… rip them off and grow them back again later. I am a sponge, after all. Ahaha!"
Sandy's shoulders rose and fell quickly as she followed along in his forced laughter. Judging by the look in his eyes, she could tell he was under stress and she didn't want to make it any worse. She was feeling tense inside too, and she wasn't sure if it was showing.
"Ha, ha, that ya are. Just hold on a minute and I'll wrap some up for ya."
"No problem."
After anxiously waiting for her to cover a pile of the doughy gingerbread cookies with plastic wrap over a clean, white plate, SpongeBob pushed his arms back out of his sleeves as she approached him.
"There ya are. All fresh and ready to go."
"Thanks, Sandy, I— Ahhh, ha!" the slapping of the plate against his hands created an intense stinging sensation, making his eyes water.
"Ooh, sorry!" Sandy winced.
"Ah, that's okay. I hope you have a very Merry Kissmas— I-I MEAN, Christmas! Christmas, I meant Christmas, aha! Ahahaha— OW!"
in the process of backing away from her, he bumped into the door before running out of it. He never imagined that he would need to use his Quickster powers in a time such as this.
An expression of speechlessness came over Sandy's face. She lifted the green shade over the window and looked out into the brilliantly lit dome of lights. SpongeBob was already knee-deep in the white blanket, struggling to make it to the door.
"SpongeBob!"
"Huh? WHOA!" he tripped and fell facedown, dropping the plate.
Sandy cringed at the thought of the ice enveloping him. "Are ya okay?"
All she could see was a faint thumbs-up sticking out of the snow before he popped out of it and picked the plate back up.
"Yeah, I'm good. What is it you wanted to say?" his voice echoed as he twisted open the steel door.
"I just wanted to say Merry Christmas to you too, and thanks for the help!"
"Oh, you're welcome! Hey, how about I call you to see how things go tomorrow?"
"Why, sure! Sounds good to me. Bye!"
"Okay, bye!"
The loud sound of metal creaked. She stared out at his footprints that were near the snow angels they had created earlier that day. Sighing, she pulled the shade down. She pondered the last few minutes of the day while working to remove that mistletoe before it could destroy her tree with its poisonous nature.
"Hello? Hello?" a confused voice rose from beneath the snow. Patrick, hours after SpongeBob had thrown his shell-phone from the tree, was still on the line and waiting for a response.
"SpongeBob? You still there? SpongeBob?"
While taking a long pause, he got nothing but silence.
"Come on, get me out of here! It's been hours and I'm so cold!"
A/N: I apologize if I got any of the dance moves wrong. I watched many instructional videos on them, wrote them down, but it was still a lot of steps to keep up with, lol. Thanks for reading!