WARNING: Long author's note ahead.

I can't believe I actually wrote another story, you guys. Like, wow. Lol.

Hey! How's it going? I've really missed writing on here. In case you're unaware, I left the SpongeBob fandom for various reasons a while back, then I returned. But I've been struggling with writing for many, many months. The last thing I posted on here was a weird poem, and I still have yet to update my other stories. To all those who have faved and followed said stories, thank you for doing so. And I apologize for making you wait.

You know what? I can say for sure that this is not my best story, at least in my opinion. It's more Spandy fluff, a kind of collection of random ideas that have been buzzing in my head for a long time now. Once again, this was another story that was supposed to be a one-shot. But dang it, I either get really caught up in details, or the idea for the story is just too long to be a one-shot.

Also, seeing that it's been a long time since I've written the characters, I apologize if they seem a little off or weird in some of the dialogue or in their actions. I tried really hard to imagine the scenes, as well as the characters' voices, in my head while writing this – specifically imagining them in the newer seasons.

Bottom line, this story isn't anything serious, lol. I just thought, "Hey, Thanksgiving is coming up – why not write something to get back into the swing of things?", even though I was unable to post this on time.

I do have plans to eventually finish my other stories little by little, and I also have other, non-Spandy stories I'd like to work on in the future.

So yeah, I apologize for the unnecessarily long author's note. Just felt like sharing all that.

Please enjoy the story, and I hope those who celebrate Thanksgiving had a happy one!

Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters.

Special Thanks

The autumn chill sang into the swirling ocean breeze as the moon cast its soft spotlight on the road leading to Sandy Cheeks' Treedome. Said squirrel and her closest friend, SpongeBob SquarePants, strolled down the path after a special Thanksgiving dinner at the Krusty Krab.

"So what did ya think of the turkey? Pretty tasty, huh?" asked Sandy with a wide smile, adjusting the dark and light orange scarf wrapped around the neck of her air suit.

Most Bikini Bottomites were unfamiliar with a lot of the surface world's annual traditions. If Sandy hadn't informed them of this holiday and its origins like she had done with Christmas back in the early 2000s, the townsfolk would probably still be dressing up as chickens and turkeys for Halloween, believing them to be no more real than vampires or zombies (although that was ironic, considering the way they behaved whenever they needed their Krabby Patty fix).

SpongeBob grinned back up at her when she had elbowed him playfully. There wasn't a thing that made his usual giddy nature catch its fire like the holiday season. Except, of course, working at the Krusty Krab. And sniffing the patties. And catching jellyfish. And watching Patrick relearn how to brush his teeth every day. And, well, life in general.

"Oh, yeah, it sure was! I've always wondered what it tasted like."

Sandy stared at him, eyebrow cocked. "Always? Y'all didn't even think it was real 'til I told ya about it last week."

"I knowwww," he sighed happily. "But it feels like always."

Sandy couldn't help but chuckle at his absurdity. She shook her head, catching sight of the upcoming structure that was her beloved house full of air. She had plans for the evening. Plans to devour the pumpkin-cinnamon cupcakes slathered in eggnog frosting her mother baked for her, and for the rest of the Cheeks family.

Sandy's folks, brother Randy, sister Rosie, and her three "children" (though most called them 'mini demons') came to Bikini Bottom on a notice so short, Sandy had no time to hang up the phone before peeking outside and seeing them float down from the surface in a strange-looking "balloon submarine," all smiling and waving cheerfully – except for Rosie who couldn't wait for the evening's food fight, bound to be started by Pistachio, Hazelnut, and Macadamia, to end.

Sandy had been speaking with Ma Cheeks about how she missed spending the holidays together ever since leaving Texas. She'd been busy preparing to leave for the little gathering of her friends at Mr. Krabs' restaurant. SpongeBob, Patrick, Squidward, even Plankton and Karen were to be there, along with Mrs. Puff. But with Sandy's family suddenly popping up with their surprise supply of good ol' home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner (Texas style), Sandy could delight in the nostalgic atmosphere that those people brought. It would be just like the old days. Not to mention, SpongeBob didn't have to cook all those Krabby Patties for everyone (not that he would've minded).

The gang could've brought their own home-cooked food to the restaurant, making it a more traditional Thanksgiving dinner, but Mr. Krabs saw this as an opportunity to sell more patties to his friends. And when Sandy came strolling into the Krusty Krab shouting, "Good news, Mr. K! My family's in town!", the dollar signs in his eyes grew to the size of each of his eye stalks.

"Family? In town? A bunch of hillbilly hick squirrels with big appetites?! Ohhh, sweet Neptune! Bring 'em in, Sandy!" he responded to her gleefully, rubbing his greedy claws together.

Unfortunately for Mr. Krabs, when he saw the giant picnic basket full of food, those dollar signs disintegrated faster than Plankton's plans to steal the formula. Nevertheless, he later found himself forgetting the lost money when he discovered the foreign yet addictive taste of land food. That stuffing was better tasting than that ear of corn he tried on that cruise ship that one time.

As for the rest of the ocean pals, this night was as enjoyable and memorable as Christmas. Sitting at the long makeshift table in the center of the restaurant, each creature warmed up to one another while they stuffed their faces with stuffing, cranberries, sweet rolls, turkey, pumpkin, and pecan pie. The place could've burst with all the laughter, funny stories, and bulging bellies, including Patrick, who looked ready for labor.

Shadows of a square with legs and a fluffy-eared critter with a bushy tail approached the Treedome. The conversation had shifted within the last few minutes from her nieces' food fight with Patrick back to the notable dinner.

SpongeBob hummed and rolled his tongue around in his mouth, remembering the unique, tender flavor of that dead bird. He squinted as if deep in thought. "And ya know, I really liked that super-duper hard part inside the turkey leg. It was a little tough to cut, though. And tough to swallow."

"...That was the leg bone, SpongeBob. You swallowed the bone."

"I did?!" he stared at her with shock that didn't surprise her. He didn't have to be drunk off ice cream to use fewer brain cells than Patrick.

"Well, that explains this." He chuckled, lifting up his chocolate-brown sweater to reveal a bone-shaped bump in his stomach.

Sandy winced only a little. Good thing she wasn't squeamish. "Yeah," she hesitated. "You gonna be okay? I can get that out for ya right quick if ya need me to."

"Nah," he waved her off, "I'll be okay. I've swallowed the Secret Formula quite a few times. It should pass by just fine. Unless it doesn't…" he placed a finger against his lip. "Come to think of it, that was a few formulas ago. Mr. Krabs has had to reorder it a lot since then. Oh, boy."

He gulped after a moment of silence. "Looks like I'm gonna need a lot of fiber."

That lil' square dude's ability to produce a strong laugh in her – even unintentionally – hadn't weakened in all the years she'd known him. She smiled to herself as she walked ahead of him, her gaze facing the ground as she reached the steel door.

She appreciated his company, no matter how exhausting and downright annoying-as-heck he could sometimes be. But everyone had their undesirable moments, including her, she was sure.

Was there a reason why her cheeks were in so much pain right now? Had she been subconsciously grinding her jaw again?

No, she only did that when she was angry. And tonight, there wasn't a speck of anything that could've triggered that kind of reaction. Not Patrick's stupidity, not Squidward's grumpiness, not even the sparkling apple cider SpongeBob had accidentally spilled on her lap at the table. And that seemed impossible not to be angry about, seeing that she had just had her air suit pressed (somehow).

But how could she find it in herself to berate him for such an accident? His sweet sense of urgency and red-faced embarrassment as he shot up from his seat next to her, apologizing obsessively and raced to grab a towel, only further brightened her mood. She had repeated, "It's okay, SpongeBob" countless times, but that didn't slow down his remorse train.

Sandy twisted open the door, briefly reflecting on the way her family stared, with smirks big enough to make a horse look away shyly, at the frantic little sponge.

Even Sandy had shaken her head, face aglow with the pinkness of her helmet flower, catching a glimpse of their smug, knowing expressions.

They had known for a while that Sandy had a special friendship with SpongeBob. Randy's constant teasing about it over the phone and Sandy's threats to fly back to Texas to karate chop him into the next rodeo couldn't stop the stream of reminders of her "little buddy" every time she spoke to them.

Her nieces chanting, "We miss Uncle SpongeBob!" didn't help her case either.

"Well, tonight sure was fun!"

That high-pitched, enthusiastic voice popped Sandy's thought bubble. She turned around to meet his face, which was darkened by the moon's glow around his head. Suddenly, her cheeks stopped hurting, realizing how late it was, and that he probably needed to head home to sleep so he could be his bright, happy, selfless self for work tomorrow.

"Uh-huh," she dragged her smile back onto her face. "And my folks sure warmed up to ya real fast, too!"

"Oh, yeah, they were so nice. I mean, wow! What a blast! Your family is so fun! Did you see the way Patrick LOST it when Pistachio kicked those deviled eggs at his head? Or how your dad couldn't stop laughing at Squidward's pocket painting? Who knew Squidward intended it to be a joke? Bahahaha!"

That smile slowly reeled its genuineness back in as her gaze, increasing in intensity while her attention did the opposite, stayed on his endearingly unique mannerisms; lively, imaginative… chaotic. His recounting of the newly-made memories melted into unintelligible background noise as her mind drifted into a vivid daydream of him giggling and creating a big figure eight on some unnamed ice skating rink, situated in the center of an icy wonderland.

Her back leaned against the door frame without her consent. Her blinking went on autopilot, brown eyes shifting back and forth as her brain processed the "information" that the fully aware Sandy preferred to store in the back of her memory, so she didn't have to deal with it on a daily basis.

"And did you know that they made a commercial about those kinds of feathers? And here I was, sleeping on the same old lumpy pillow. Ugh!"

Sandy's head shook with the speed of a tornado. How long had she been out? Why had she been out? What was it about him tonight that guided her hidden gentleness out of its cave?

Maybe it was his typical politeness toward her family, rushing to welcome them to the restaurant with that agreeable ocean hospitality.

Or it could've been his seldom-seen quiet side, casually on display at the table, looking harmless and friendly as he listened to her father tell his fishing and bucking bronco stories.

Perhaps it was how he'd turned that smile to her the same time she did, allowing it to creep up to his eyes as they met hers. It was like he was happy to see her, even though he'd been sitting next to her for an hour at that point. Still, her stomach wasn't warm just from the dinner.

If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that tonight was not the first time he'd done this to her. In fact, he'd been gradually doing it for years, peeling back the Texas-tough layers and seeping into her heart. A bouquet of flowers here, a genuine compliment and sacrifice there.

An unbelievably awkward but sweet, sort-of-date proposal that was quickly cast aside once he'd openly catastrophized about everything that could go wrong before she could even respond. What followed was a squirrel at a loss for words; a sobbing sponge throwing his water helmet down on the grass and running out of the Treedome; and an octopus about to get his butt kicked if he didn't step away from eavesdropping and laughing at his neighbor's attempt to woo a girl.

But that was news from two weeks ago. Tonight was about kindness and coziness and friendship. And most of all, thankfulness.

Right now, Sandy was thankful for the hopeful question that popped up in her mind. His silly comment about the pillow reminded her of the fun of small talk. If she could convince him to stay, she wouldn't have to talk to herself while scarfing down those cupcakes.

"Uh, yeah. Hey, SpongeBob?"

SpongeBob refocused his distant stare back on her. "Yessss?"

"Listen, I know it's getting a little late and all…" she rubbed the back of her helmet, peering off to the side.

"Is it?" he glanced at his wristwatch. "Huh, that's funny! Heh, or maybe it isn't. You're just so beautiful tonight, I– "

A snippet of sappy music filled the atmosphere as Sandy's wide eyes met his. He grinned sheepishly, retracting his statement about the time being unfunny.

"…Hardly… even noticed… the time. W-what I meant to say was the sky is so beautiful, I hardly even noticed. N-not that you aren't beautiful – you are! I mean, you're really, really– y-you're always– "

"I think I get it, SpongeBob." She nodded slowly, hoping her flattered feelings weren't showing on her complexion.

Silence mixed with bubbles surrounded them, along with a few droplets of sweat that shouldn't have rained off of him due to the cold.

"S-so, what were you gonna ask me?– "

"So, what I wanted to ask ya was– "

Nobody gave this holiday permission to be bombarded with an awkward chuckled fest. They needed to get inside that air dome, fast, before one of them belched or passed gas.

"So–"

"So–"

They blinked.

"What…"

"It was…"

"I…"

"Wanted to– Oh, for Pete's sake!"

As per usual, just like his other friends did (except Patrick), Sandy smacked a paw against her helmet while he stood there like a goof, his buckteeth protruding more than usual.

"Do y'all wanna come inside for a little while? Ya know," her tone flipped to its playful side, "have a lil' tea and cupcake chat? My ma makes 'em every year, and they're just about the best dang dessert I ever had!" she swung her fist for emphasis. "I understand if ya can't. I know you gotta work tomorrow– "

"Oh, no, Mr. Krabs gave me the day off tomorrow! It's Purple Friday, and he wanted me to help him shop around for some possible thrift store gifts for Christmas. But shh! Don't tell him I told you! It's supposed to be a surprise!" he whispered, followed by a giggle. "But anyway, that's not until tomorrow night."

"Sooo, then you have some spare time?"

"All night! Well, maybe not all night. That would be a little weird, don't ya think?"

With all his rambling tonight, half of her was surprised he didn't go through a much larger list of worries and potential outcomes, like needing to change Gary's diaper, or how he forgot to organize his sock collection. Her other half sat on her unamused expression.

"...That depends. Let's just go inside."

"Okay!"

"Sponges first!" she gestured to the door she graciously held open for him.

"Oh, why thank you. Bahaha!"

He skipped inside, proudly putting his "inner child" on display, which wasn't "inner" in the typical sense. His smiling eyes remained closed, so he missed how the bored annoyance on her face melted into a fond half-smile. That SpongeBob, always thrilled by the little things. Always spreading joy.

"Ow!"

Sandy was pulled out of her thought trance before it could take over this time. She turned around to the second entrance in the corridor.

She sighed.

Always smashing into objects.

A/N: Heh, I realized while writing the thing about the turkey that SpongeBob does, in fact, know what turkey is in the song "Don't Be a Jerk! (It's Christmas). But eh, this is just a fanfic, so I'm keeping that joke in. Lol.