And here it is, a short and sweet (at least, in my opinion) little finale, finally up and posted long after my projected due date. Please forgive me for the delay. And also, if any of you liked this one, I suggest going over to my profile and reading "Champagne Between Friends" which is the sequel. That one is actually a little bit more in season now, since it takes place on New Year's Eve. I don't own Degrassi or its characters or anything at all really, and I hope you all had a lovely New Years. Cheers!
But of course, he did look away.
Because of course, little Miss Sinclair had to choose this exact moment to emit a loud, resounding belch, and then giggle and excuse herself as if she had just done something endearing.
Lets just say the "mood" was broken.
"Oh jeez Heather, you're a mess." Craig remarked with a sigh, breaking eye contact with Ellie as he pulled the blanket up a little tighter around the groggy girl's chin and patted it down, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"That certainly is one way to put it." Ellie replied with a groan, "What a night," she mumbled as she stood up reluctantly and grabbed a trashcan to place beside to the edge of the bed near Heather's head. Sinclair mumbled out a few indistinguishable phrases and smiled blissfully as Ellie pointed out the trashcan to her, hopelessly lost in her own little intoxicated word of splendor.
"Ohhh yeah, I know what you mean," Craig replied with a chuckle, stuffing a couple of pillows around the girl to prop her up securely on her side. "So what do you think? Feel like going back downstairs and braving the crowd?" he asked skeptically.
"Umm, about that...is it wrong that I would rather clean up the bathroom?" she said with a grimace.
"Yeah, that's pretty messed up, but no fear, I will sacrifice my own merrymaking to rinse out the puke-laden towels in the del Rossi's bathtub with you, my dear."
"Oh my, I do thank you so much sir. Whatever would I do without you?" She said with a sarcastic grin as they made their way to the bathroom.
"Without me? Now that is a scary thought ma'am, it's probably best not to torment yourself with such ideas." "Oh god Ellie," He stated as they flicked on the overhead fluorescent light, "that shirt is disgusting!"
"Well thanks a lot Manning, I wore it especially for you!" she replied, holding out her splotchy top and doing a little spin. On no, wait... was she flirting? Couldn't be, he had a girlfriend, she had a...well, she had Jimmy. Calm down Ellie, think rationally.
"I must say I'm wholeheartedly flattered, but no, you know what I mean. That thing has Heather's own special blend of eggnog, whiskey and bile all over the front of it. You've got to get out of it, here, take mine." He offered, pulling his button-down over his head and causing Ellie's knees to almost buckle.
"Oh please Craig, I don't care if you have been struck with a holiday-induced deadly case of Tiny Tim selflessness, put your clothes back on. We both know you'll freeze to death if you go home topless." She objected, trying to keep her voice at its signature flat, cynical level. Which was quite a task, considering the fact that her heart was struggling to make its way past her vocal chords.
"Naw, I'm a real man! Besides, I brought a coat. Go on, take it." He said reassuringly, extending the shirt with a guitar toned arm out to her, which, however, was met with a dubious raised eyebrow. "Oh yeah, I guess I should turn around now." He said with just a hint of a twinkle in his eye.
Ellie wasn't blushing. Not one little bit. Standing there in just a flimsy little bra and a pair of jeans only a few feet away from Craig in just his jeans was nothing she would blush over. Come on guys, she was SO over Craig Manning. They were only friends. Good friends. And friends undressed in front of each other all the time. Yeah, that added color in her cheeks was only because it was just a tad warm in that small, steamy, sexually charged bathroom. Or the fact that she had been drinking just a smidge. Take your pick.
How the hell did it get so hot in there all of the sudden?
"Hey look," Craig exclaimed, gazing above him with his back still turned, "Marco never ceases to surprise. Who puts mistletoe above a toilet?"
MISTLETOE!
Not that she cared, of course.
Mistletoe? Blah, who needs it?
"You know Craig," she declared dully, fastening the final button on his shirt and placing her (slightly, just barely, faintly even) shaking hands on her hips stubbornly, " Mistletoe is actually a terribly parasitic plant. Disgusting, really. I think we would all be much better off if it were eradicated completely. "
"Oh Elle," He said, turning around to face her with a knowing smile. That smartass, cocky, debonair, suave, irresistible smile that she hated to love.. loved to hate. Same difference. That smile... "you really are a terrible liar, you know that?"
And then he kissed her.
On the lips. Under the mistletoe.
Oh dear sweet Jesus, did Eleanor Nash ever love Christmas.
The end...