Twelve Days of Christmas

Sunday, December 24th

(Christmas Eve)

The warm cider was pleasant and festive as Sam avoided the bulk of the Fenton clan by hiding in the small den across from the family room. It was currently passing as a large closet for the bulk of the outerwear Danny's relative needed for the snowy clime, and some of the jackets were still damp with it, but Sam didn't really mind. She loved Danny, and she loved his family, but Jack's side of the family all had that fudge gene that made her feel like a sapling in a forest of redwoods. (Thank god it seemed to have bypassed Danny.)

"Coward," Tucker muttered as he ducked in himself, letting the door close nearly entirely behind him instead of completely as she had.

She stuck her tongue out at him and sipped at her cider. "You're just jealous because I called the best hiding place first. Where'd you go?"

"Ops Center," he replied with a grin, moving over the window for a little light. His PDA was out and being fiddled with before Sam could say anything else, and she shook her head. "You seen Danny?" Tucker asked without looking up.

Sam shrugged, shoving a few jackets over so she could pull up a patch up floor. "I saw him when we got here, and again when he showed me where to find things that weren't meat."

Tucker gave a faint grunt. "I wondered who'd put the salad in the microwave. Found it when I went to make some cocoa for Granny Fitz." He looked up at Sam with a pained expression. "She pinched my cheek."

Sam laughed. "I'm sure it's fine, Tucker. At least you can't see a mark."

He choked. "I didn't meant that cheek."

"Oh." Sam paused, her breath catching in a definite snerk before she started laughing. "Oh, god, Tucker. That's funny. Danny's grandmother violated you."

"Why do you think I'm hiding?" She managed to hear the words amidst her laughter, but couldn't help herself, knowing that every noise she made ran the risk that she'd be dragged out and into the fray against her will. Danny and Jazz would understand, and Maddie might let it slide. Once. Jack? Oh, the pain.

"Besides, you're one to talk. What're you hiding for?" Tucker demanded, annoyed enough that he was paying more attention to her than to his PDA.

Sam shrugged. "I like being unsquished, for one. And I wanted to think." She aimed at nonchalance, but was sure it failed.

"Sam?" Tucker ventured tentatively.

Sam turned away so he couldn't see her face, her plastic cup warm in her hands as she commanded her fingers to relax and not crumple the half full cup in her grip. "Do you think it's Danny?" she asked, her voice steady and not betraying the anxiety she felt. She'd been so sure that afternoon. It wasn't midnight yet; there was still time.

"I don't know. No. I don't know how it could be him, Sam," Tucker finally said. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and Sam sighed.

"I don't care who it is," Sam confessed. "I want it to be Danny, I just don't see how it can be him, either."

"It'll be alright, Sam. It's not like you have to marry the guy. Or girl."

She turned, rolling her eyes as she reached out a hand to casually smack his shoulder. "You're a pervert. I hate to say this, but you need to get laid. It'll help clear you mind." She paused, musing. "Or it'll make you worse. Hmm. Well, castration is always an option."

The last was said brightly, and Tucker cringed back even as Danny's head popped down through the ceiling. "Found you guys!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

He dropped through the ceiling and held out his gift bearing hands. "I come bearing tribute to my best friends."

Sam laughed and Tucker held a hand out haughtily. "Hand it over, Fenton. It's about time you bowed before me."

Danny frowned and Sam laughed. "Quit being an ass, Tuck. I'll go first." It only took a few seconds to unearth her jacket and the gifts wrapped and tucked within. One she gave to Tucker, who grinned like a kid in a candy store, the other went to Danny, and Sam watched as they began tugging at paper. Well, Danny tugged, neatly and patiently. Tucker ripped through his like a shark through a marathon swim, which was a mental image Sam so did not need.

"Oh my god," was all Tucker said. It became a mantra that didn't end even when Sam poked him in the side. She had to physically tug the new PDA from his hands.

"God, Tucker. Be a little more obsessive?"

"I love you, Sam." She only had the four words to prepare herself for the spine breaking hug he engulfed her in, her body squeezed so tightly that she had to smack him in order to be able to breathe.

"You're welcome, Tucker," she told him as she stepped back, pretending to duck behind Danny. he, at least, was less demonstrative, though she wouldn't have minded a hug like that from him.

"Wow, Sam. A copy of Tobin's Annotated. That's awesome."

She grinned. "Supposedly it's the definitive guide to ghosts. I figured we might as well see what we were rewriting." The teasing words and tone made him laugh with her as he handed Tucker a slim box (she could tell Danny wrapped it, the ends kind of splinched together and the tape layered to cover his missed attempts) and her an envelope.

Sam's stomach gave a sick little backflip as she opened it to the sound of Tucker gasping again at the upgrade she and Danny had colluded on. She's done this very same thing so many times in the last week and a half; now she was doing it again from the boy—man—that she desperately wanted to be her secret admirer. The card was simple and Goth, something she'd seen in Skulk and Lurk, and the gift card inside was almost expected. She scanned the trite message to his hand written happy holidays and smiled against the urge to frown. She knew his handwriting, she hadn't expected it to match what was on her drum note. But she'd hoped.

"Thanks, Danny. This is great."

Tucker gave them both CD's, and she wondered if he'd gotten the idea from her mystery man, since the CD's were homemade and burned. Then he smiled and told them that the disks were the next step up from regular CD's and that he'd managed to squeeze half a dozen CD's that they'd each wanted on them. There were hugs all around until Tucker insisted he had to go and fuel his all nighter with his new toy by helping the Fenton clan finish off the ham. (And the turkey, and the stuffing, and the brisket that Maddie's sister had brought.)

"You don't mind it?" Danny asked as Sam continued to hide out in the little room.

She shook her head, confused. "Why would I mind it?"

"It's kind of lame," Danny admitted. "A gift card when you got all these… well, cool things from whoever the guy is."

It made her heart hurt, because the fact that Danny was so uncertain wasn't right. He was her best friend; he could have gotten her nothing and she'd never change the way she looked at him. She told him so, hiding the real reason behind the hurt. If Danny was her secret admirer he'd never have asked her that.

By the time she got home, Sam finally gave up the faint hope she'd been clinging to.