So here is the next chapter. I promise it will start to go faster after this. I honestly didn't plan to linger this long on the Christmas break, but there were just too many chances to work extra things in that hopefully ties this to the show. I wasn't sure whether I wanted this set in the present or when the characters would have actually been this age. I think I've decided the later. So this would be the late 90s.

Anywho, I really like this one. It was fun to write. :)

The Morgan sisters loved Spencer, just as Derek had predicted. They had been excited when Derek told them about the baby, and had joined Fran in fussing over Spencer; making sure he was always comfortable, that he had had enough to eat, that the apartment wasn't too hot or too cold. Derek chuckled at the flustered look on Spencer's face, but would whisk him away to his bedroom when he could tell the attention was becoming too much, giving Spencer a break from it.

But as the week progressed, Spencer became used to the attention and was more relaxed around the Morgan women, which pleased Derek immensely. On Christmas Eve, he joined the Morgans as they went to church, even though he himself was not very religious. As the service progressed, Spencer found himself watching Derek more and more. He eyed him, concerned, as he shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. Reaching out a tentative hand, he grasped one of Derek's restless ones, smiling gently when Derek glanced up at him. Derek didn't smile back, but he wrapped his other hand around the back of Spencer's, giving a gentle squeeze.

He didn't release Spencer's hand until the service was over.

Derek was very quiet for the rest of the evening. He put on a smile when his mom and sisters were near, but Spencer could still see the deep conflict raging in his eyes. As they went to bed that night, Spencer pulled Derek to his side, pressing his dark head to his thin chest, running a hand comfortingly up and down his back. Derek wrapped his arms tightly around Spencer, burying his face in his flannel-covered chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Spencer quietly.

Derek shook his head, and as his body shook slightly, Spencer realized he was crying.

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of his head and embraced him tightly.

….

Spencer blearily blinked his eyes open, finding himself alone in bed. He tiredly clambered out and shuffled to the door, opening it to a waft of the delicious scent of food. Quickly using the bathroom and returning to the bedroom to change, he headed for the kitchen.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," cried Derek, abandoning his chopping to pull Spencer to him, kissing him. He chuckled as Sarah and Desi's laughs made Spencer blush.

"Good morning, Spencer," said Fran from her spot by the stove.

Spencer sat at the table, watching with fascination as the Morgans moved gracefully around the kitchen, almost in a dance, as they prepared an enormous amount of amazing smelling food. Spencer smiled and laughed as the Morgans joked and teased and told stories of previous Christmases. He blushed as they would bring him different things to taste, always telling them it was delicious, which it was. Derek wasn't lying when he said his mom taught him how to cook. She had taught them all well.

After a while though, he start to feel like he should be helping. Derek had been sent on a store run, so Spencer stood, slowly walking to Fran. "Ah, is there, um… anything I can help with?"

Fran smiled at him sweetly. "My dear, there is." She wiped her hands on her apron, before leading Spencer to a stretch of counter occupied by various ingredients, a large bowl, and a recipe card. "I haven't had a chance to prepare the gingerbread cookie dough."

"I'll do it," said Spencer eagerly.

"Thank you," replied Fran, patting his back gently and returning to the stove.

Spencer read the recipe, having it memorized in fractions of a second, and set to work combining all the ingredients. He listened to Sarah and Desi bicker good-naturedly, Fran chiding them from the other side of the kitchen. Once he had all the ingredients in the bowl, he picked up the large spoon and started stirring, turning his head to the side to watch the others, a smile on his face.

The click of the lock and the door opening announced Derek's return. "I'm back," he called, strolling into the kitchen and handing the grocery bag to his mom. "Hey, pretty boy, what are ya making?" He walked up behind Spencer, peering over his shoulder. "Yes, cookie dough," he cried, reaching around to take some-

-Only to have Spencer slap his hand away. "Hey! No snitching!"

Derek stared at him, jaw drooping. "Come on, man! Just a little bit," he said, reaching around him again.

"No." Spencer shoved the bowl to the back of the counter, forcing his hips back to push Derek away.

Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer's middle, holding him in place while he stretched out the other arm. But Spencer's reach was just a little longer. So he tried a different tactic. He picked up Spencer and spun around, placing himself between Spencer and the counter. At the last second though, Spencer had grabbed the bowl and clutched it to his chest protectively, squirming in Derek's grip.

"Let me go."

"Give me the cookie dough."

"No,"

"Give me!"

"No!"

They trailed off as they heard a sound from the other side of the rom. Desirée and Sarah were giggling behind their hands, leaning on each other as they pointed at the boys. Fran was staring at Spencer and Derek with a knowing smirk.

Spencer blushed a deep red. "The dough's ready," he gulped, holding it out to Fran.

She chuckled, walking over and taking the bowl. "Thank you, Spencer," she said. She eyed Derek, who gently set Spencer down. "I think you two should maybe leave the rest of the cooking to us," she said. "Don't want to make a mess," she added with a wink.

Spencer blushed again as Derek laughed. "Come on, pretty boy," he said, taking Spencer's hand. "A Charlie Brown Christmas is on."

"A what Christmas?" asked Spencer, running into Derek as he stopped suddenly.

Derek stared at him. "You've never seen a Charlie Brown Christmas?" he asked, eyes wide when Spencer shook his head no. "But it's Christmas tradition! Oh, my poor boy," he cried, dragging Spencer off to the living room.

…

"And this one's for you."

Spencer was startled out of watching Fran help Sarah put on her new necklace, and glanced down at the present that had been plopped in his lap. He stared up at Derek, wide eyed. "What?"

Derek chuckled, squeezing onto the armchair beside Spencer. "That present's for you."

Spencer ran his hands over the red and green wrapping paper, feeling bad. "I… I didn't get you anything," he whispered.

Derek wrapped his arms around him, pulling Spencer closer. "You being her to keep my sisters' attention off me and on you was the best Christmas present ever," he joked.

Spencer smiled weakly, fingers stilling running over the present.

"Are you going to open it?"

He slowly peeled away the paper, not tearing into it as Derek had his present (a new pair of running shoes he had told his mother about), and two items fell into his lap. The first was a bright purple scarf, edged with a black and white pattern. The other was a beautiful, leather bound book, full of blank pages.

"I, uh," Derek coughed slightly, "bought the scarf the other day. It just… I don't know, I thought you might like it. And Mama found the book. She thought you might like to have it to record stuff about the baby. Doctor visits, new updates, maybe pictures and just how you're feeling about it…" Derek trailed off as Spencer stared up at him, lower lip trembling. "Spencer?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

Spencer lunged forward, pressing his lips to Derek in a quick kiss before burying his face in his neck and shaking with tears. Derek wrapped his arms around him, running a hand up and down his back.

"So, uh… They were good presents?" he asked.

Spencer laughed slightly turning his head. "Yeah, thank you. They're great." He glanced over to see Fran staring at them. "Thank you," he repeated, sliding his hands over the cover of the book.

Fran smiled. "You're welcome, my dear," she said, standing and shooing Sarah and Desi into the kitchen to make cocoa.

Derek glanced down at Spencer. "Are you okay?"

Spencer nodded, wiping a shaky hand across his eyes. "Yes. I-I don't know why I'm crying. I didn't think to get you anything, and then you got me such wonderful gifts." He picked up the scarf, running it through his hands. "Purple's my favorite color."

"Really?" asked Derek with a smile.

"Yeah." Spencer's lip trembled again. "And I didn't get you anything," he repeated in a whisper.

"You gave me a kiss."

Spencer turned his head to stare up at him. "What?"

"You kissed me," pointed out Derek. "That's a pretty nice present."

Spencer gave a small, watery smile. "Really?"

Derek smiled back. "Yes, my hormonally emotional pretty boy," he teased.

"Just think, it's only going to get worse," said Spencer, wiping the last of the tears from his face.

Derek mock-groaned before tightening his arms around him. "I don't care."

Spencer leaned into Derek as Fran and the girls returned with steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He took the offered cup, giggling as Derek gently blew on it to cool it down, the little marshmallows swirling across the top. He listened to the chatter around him, drinking cocoa and nibbling gingerbread cookies, until his eyes began to droop and he nodded off, head on Derek's shoulder.

….

"You really love him, don't you."

Derek spun in his seat on the floor, picking up pieces of wrapping paper, to find his mom standing behind the couch, watching him. "What?"

"Spencer," she said simply. "You love him."

Derek glanced down the hall, having carried the sleeping young man and putting him to bed. "I care about him," he replied slowly. "A lot." He stared unwaveringly into his mother's eyes. "I'm not doing this just because he's pregnant with my child. I do genuinely care for him. But I… I don't know if I… love him."

Fran smiled, walking around and sitting on the couch. "Derek," she sighed happily, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "You do. You maybe haven't realized it yet, but I can see it."

Derek stared down at the plastic bag of garbage. "Really?" he asked, his voice a little uncertain.

His mom raised his chin, nodding.

Derek swallowed. "I want to love him. I… I think I could. I feel like I could. He's the sweetest, nicest, most selfless and genuine person I've ever met. I just… I don't know if I really am in love with him. How do I tell?" He glanced up at his mother. "How can you tell?"

"The way you look at him. The way you comfort him. The way you smile every time he's near you or you think about him," she added with a slight laugh, tapping his nose as Derek broke out in a grin. Fran's face suddenly got serious. "I can tell that boy has been through a lot in life," she said. "Don't hurt him, Derek."

Derek's face matched her seriousness. "I won't."

Fran's smile returned and she leaned forward, kissing his cheek. "Go to bed, dear. I'll finish cleaning up."

Derek handed her the plastic bag, standing up and heading towards the hall. "Mama," he said, turning around.

"Yes?"

He smiled. "Thank you."

She returned the smile. "Good night, Derek. I love you."

"I love you too, Mama."

I really just couldn't resist with the scarf. I honestly only wrote in Derek giving him a present, just so it could be that scarf (cuz it popped into my head one day). Also, I hope at the beginning I got across the whole Derek being unsure of his faith thing.

And in the next chapte, Spencer does have a present for Derek. No, not what your dirty mind just jumped to ;), although that will be happening soon. He has an "awww"-moment present for him. :) That's all I'm saying.

I promise the story will move faster from now on. And for those spazzing out about Spencer discovering the bet, that will be in about... the 2nd or 3rd chapter from now. I have the next one planned out (poor Spencer's going to have a bad day, which Derek will obviously make better).

Tomorrow is my birthday (yes, born on Singles Awareness Day). And lots of wonderful reviews would be a fantastic present. :) Warning: anyone who says "aww, valentine baby" will earn my instant dislike. *glare*