-10-

"Andy, we're not fucking this up. Not this time."

The young man looked with confusion at the doll, who was sitting atop the table, legs and arms crossed.

Yesterday had been an adventure for the both of them, if you'd read 11, and Chucky, I'm afraid, was more or less feeling a bit cranky and hoping that today would not be quite so disastrous. His scowl, if at all humanly possible, had grown since the last two days.

Andy gave his ginger a worried glance. "What?" he asked in concern, brown eyes practically brimming with question. You talk, and I will listen. That's how it works.

It's quite amazing, truly, how these two had developed quite the non-verbal bond. It only took a single look from one of the other for their counterpart to suddenly understand everything that neither one of them ever really said aloud.

"What? Don't look at me like that!" Chucky gave him a little shove. "I just don't want to have to clean up any more messes, that's all!"

Andy smirked, "C'mon, Chucky, it's cookies," he protested. "We can't go too wrong on those." He shook the bag that held the pre-made cookie-dough. "You can't eat them unless you help make them. House rules."

Chucky muttered something that sounded just a bit like, "Who let you make the fucking rules in this house, anyways?" but he begrudgingly rolled up his sleeves and waited for Andy to bring out the materials that were necessary.

Surprisingly enough, the process of getting the cookies rolled out into nice balls onto the trays and into the oven didn't result in much of a hazard at all. There may have been just a bit of dough that was lost on the floor, but it was nothing all too serious. Chucky insisted on putting the trays into the oven himself without wearing gloves, but that resolve quickly fizzled when he burnt his hand. But in the end, the dough wads safely tucked into the oven, and Chucky's small mishap was easily remedied with a crudely made ice-pack.

"See? Totally easy. I told you," Andy told him proudly, joining Chucky where he had sprawled himself out on the couch. He attempted to reach over and playfully pinch the doll's cheeks, but Chucky slapped his hands away. He was trying to maintain his usually irate exterior, but it melted away quickly when Andy finally discovered a way to sidle up next to him and burrow in rather snugly.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, now get out. I'm not hiding any Christmas miracle in here," he griped, squirming away from where Andy's breath was tickling him in the curve of his neck. He pushed at the young man for a moment before finally giving up, making a dramatic fuss while doing so.

They lay there in simple silence, heartbeats frighteningly falling in synch with each other. Chucky would swear that for the next five or so minutes, he was only breathing in sweater fibers, but Andy would tell you that it was one of the more peaceful moments of their life, and that he would have traded a lot just to re-live it, just the two of them enjoying each other's company without any sort of heated argument.

It didn't last too long. The oven chimed away what seemed like only seconds later to announce the arrival of the completed baked goods.

Andy got up with a groan. He slowly stood up, straightening out his back almost painfully as he did so. Chucky found this amusing, and voiced this fact with a leering, "Getting old already, Andy?"

He received one of the couch pillows thrown at him for his pains. "Very funny- you do know that you're actually older than me, right?" Andy reminded him, pointing a finger in his direction. He held his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Maybe I'll get you a cane for Christmas this year…"

"Oh excuse me," Chucky retorted back with a smirk. "Go ahead- I'll use that cane to teach you to respect your elders."

Andy laughed hard at that, and began to give, presumably, some sort of witty reply, but the oven beeped again, this time a warning to take the cookies out before they became burnt. Andy turned quickly and gave a shout, hastily making his way into the kitchen.

Chucky remained on the couch, musing to himself. "I'm older than you," he muttered softly, and oh, but if you could have seen his eyes, you would have seen that he was lost in such a sad sort of thought. He looked towards the door to the kitchen, where Andy had disappeared temporarily. He frowned suddenly. "Don't make me out-live you, you little shit."

Andy returned then, dimpled smile chasing away any of the previously dark thoughts that had started to cloud the doll's mind. "They're just fine! Just like I said they would be!"he practically crowed, flopping himself back down on the couch next to him. "They've still gotta cool, but they look like nice enough cookies." He made a gesture towards the kitchen. "Go take a look."

"Like I need to see anything," Chucky said, even as he leaned forward to slide off the couch. "I've seen cookies before."

But, of course, he went in anyways, and though he told himself it was because he had nothing much better to do, it was apparently obvious that he did it to please Andy- and out of a personal curiosity as to how well those cookies actually did turn out. He hadn't really ever been involved in these sorts of things before Andy had come along into his life, and, although he tried to appear as if he had a surpassing amount of knowledge on many things, when it came to simple memories like this, sadly, he had to come to terms with the fact that he had none.

Which is why, of course, had could only be himself in this sort of a situation, and, before any of his forbidden emotions overwhelmed him, stole two of the cookies from the neatly laid out dozen off the cooling rack that Andy had carefully set atop the table and ate them in a matter of seconds.

"Well, I gotta say, they're not so bad," he commented to Andy upon his return. He kept silent on just how he had made the decision that he liked the cookies. Fortunately, Andy seemed content enough to just see the doll smiling, and the thought to question the meaning behind it never crossed his mind.

That is, until he returned to the kitchen later to find the original batch short of two cookies.