Baby all I want for Christmas is you…
He rolls his eyes and sits at his desk. "Alison!" he calls, somehow expecting her to hear him from wherever she is in his massive office building. She should be in her office right next to his. But of course she isn't. He reaches over to press the button on his desk phone that calls her Bluetooth, but she walks in the room before he can.
I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…
"Alison, turn that off!" he exclaims. "And where have you been?! I hired you to be my assistant, not to run around the building like it's a playground!"
The brunette sighs and turns off the radio. "Mr. Moon, I was just trying to spread the Christmas spirit. And I was getting your coffee. Black." She hands it to him, muttering, "Like your soul," as an afterthought.
He takes the coffee and takes a sip of it, making a face. "It's too hot."
"I'm not perfect, Mr. Moon. It'll cool off."
"Just leave."
The woman purses her lips and walks out of his office, her heels clicking on the tile floor.
Austin hired her as his assistant about a month ago after firing his old one. He thought she'd be focused and hardworking, but she's a complete airhead who cannot cease to annoy the ever living crap out of him. She's far too cheery, and her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to him. The only thing she can seem to do right is organize all his junk, so he keeps her around.
What he didn't realize hiring her, however, was that she is a Christmas fanatic. As soon as Thanksgiving was over, she started playing Christmas music in his office, adding peppermint sticks to his hot cocoas, and filling his mint jar with candy canes and chocolate with red and green wrappers. She insisted on a Christmas tree in the office, and while he had complete authority to deny her, she has this look that even he can't seem to say no to. It frustrates him beyond belief.
He's a couple years older than her, and clearly wiser. She's naïve and giggly and obnoxious and annoying. Unfortunately, no one else has even applied to be his assistant, so even if she wasn't semi-good at her job, he'd have to keep her.
"Oh, and Mr. Moon?" She pops her head in the door.
He looks up at her coldly. "Yes?"
"Call me Ally." A smile, a wave, and then she's gone.
He takes another sip of his coffee, which proves to be a big mistake. It's still too hot, and it pretty much sears all his taste buds off. He swallows it quickly and starts coughing uncontrollably before cursing his assistant under his breath.
He honestly has no idea what he's going to do with her.
Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me. I've been an awful good –
"Alison!" he shouts as the singer's whiny voice practically makes his eardrums bleed. "How many times do I have to tell you not to play that infernal screeching in my office?!"
"You sound like some king of the Underworld. Lighten up," the girl says, walking in the office and turning down the music. "You know, if it annoys you that much, you could've turned it down yourself."
"I don't have time for this. It's six in the morning. No one wants to hear that."
"I do," the girl says, turning her nose up.
"You are a freak of nature."
"You need to learn how to talk nicer to your employees."
"You need to respect your boss."
"I'm very respectful. I'm just trying to get in the holiday spirit. Everyone seems to like it but you."
"Yeah, well, I don't like Christmas."
"I can tell."
"Christmas isn't for another three weeks anyway. Calm down with all the…" He trails off and lifts the string of silver tinsel off his desk with his thumb and forefinger, looking at it, not even attempting to hide his disgust. "Festivity."
Alison crosses her arms and pouts as he drops the tinsel on his desk again. With a huff, she walks over and fixes it so it's perfectly aligned with the edge of his desk once again.
He raises an eyebrow, and she nods curtly and walks out of the office.
He mentally debates just disabling the radio in his office altogether. He never uses it, and all she seems to want to do is blast it at ungodly volumes at ungodly hours of the morning.
But then again, she'd probably find another way to get the music playing in his office. She's too stubborn to give up that easily.
He tries to focus on working, and right when he starts entering 'the zone,' he hears a scream and a crash from outside. He stands up from his desk and hurries into the wide hallway, only to see Alison Dawson at the bottom of a ladder on the white tile floor, wrapped up in more silver tinsel and with a bunch of holly piled around her.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and makes his way over to her.
"Alison."
"Mr. Moon." That annoying smile on her face is now laced with embarrassment and – he hopes he's right on this – nerves.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"Well…I wanted to deck the halls with boughs of holly, get it?" She gestures to the plants around her and smiles up at him once again. "I asked the maintenance man if I could borrow his ladder, and then, well…yeah."
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, counting to ten in his head. Then he opens his eyes again and looks down at her.
"Up," he says.
She scrambles to her feet, ungracefully attempting to detangle herself from the tinsel. She does manage to do it, however, and stumbles along behind Austin on the way to his office.
"I-I'm sorry," she stutters. "I know I should've just had the maintenance man do it but I wanted it to be perfect and I thought it couldn't be that hard so – "
"No," he interrupts her. "No. I don't care who did it. I want you to stop trying to spread your annoying cheeriness across the whole office! I'm sick and tired of it!"
"But – "
"No, Alison! There will be no more decking of halls, or jingling of bells, or dancing or prancing or ho-ho-ho-ing! If I hear so much as one more note of Mariah Carey, you are fired! Now get out of my office!"
The now-trembling girl practically sprints out of his office, leaving him frustrated and alone with nothing but cold, peppermint-y hot chocolate and the faint sound of 'Blue Christmas'playing from that freaking radio.
Alison apparently does have some intelligence, for he hasn't heard any of that ear-shattering music since he yelled at her last week. The office is back to normal, although the Christmas candies are still in his mint jar and she insists that all they have is peppermint hot chocolate mix (even though Marcus from the mail room says he saw her stirring the hot cocoa with a candy cane yesterday afternoon).
Still, this much, he can handle. Things are more peaceful now, and he's getting a lot more work done. And surprisingly, so is she.
"I finished organizing those employee profiles for you," the brunette announces, walking into his office with the usual click of her heels.
"Then put them away."
The woman sighs and does so, and he resists the urge to yell at her for the quiet Christmas song she's humming absentmindedly. Is that 'Winter Wonderland'?
Great, now he recognizes them.
"Why do you even hate Christmas, anyway? Did you have some traumatic experience as a child or something?" she blurts out, sounding frustrated.
"Doesn't matter, Alison. Are you finished?"
"I guess."
"Then get out."
She sighs and walks out of his office without arguing.
He takes a sip of his coffee and is about to start working again when his eye catches the candy still in his mint jar. He notices the corner of a piece of paper sticking up from the bottom, and he reaches in and grabs it.
It's a Christmas-themed sticky note, decorated with candy canes, mistletoe, gingerbread men, bells, stars, and Christmas trees. On it, he recognizes Alison's slightly messy handwriting in black marker.
I just wanted to get you in the Christmas spirit. Hope this fun candy helped! By the time you're reading this, I'm expecting your halls to be decked with boughs of holly and your chestnuts to be roasting on an open fire! I love working for you and I hope you have a merry Christmas!
He reads the note from Alison with a clenched jaw and a shaking hand. Somehow, this has crossed his imaginary line of how much she can annoy him. Deep down, he knows that she did this before she knew how much he dislikes Christmas, but still, he can't contain his frustration.
He crumbles up the note and throws it in the trash, standing up and walking over to his floor-to-ceiling window and leaning against it, staring out at the view of Miami below him.
The houses in the residential areas are decorated with lights and (now flat) blow-up decorations. The shopping centers, high rises, and parks are decked out in huge wreaths and other more elegant forms of decorations. He finds it even more annoying. It's December: the trees are dead, people are getting sick, the weather's cold, and everyone from up north has migrated down to their city, creating longer lines and busier traffic and more hustle and bustle. How is everyone so freaking happy?
He walks away from the window and starts pacing up and down the length of his office, trying to let off some lingering steam.
He's brought out of his thoughts by her voice (and right when he thought he had gotten rid of her for a while).
"Mr. Moon, you have a call," she announces. "It's your mother."
He walks over and picks up his desk phone. "Connect her," he tells her.
She nods and presses a button on her phone (because they have all the latest technology and she is most definitely proud of it).
"Mom?" he says into the phone, shooing Alison out of the room.
"Hi, honey!" his mother gushes.
He's twenty-eight years old, and she still insists on babying him.
"What's up?"
"I just wanted to remind you that our annual Christmas party is next week, and you still haven't said anything about a plus one."
"Do I need one?"
"Yes, dear. Some very important people will be there, and you having a date will look more impressive. It'll make you look more mature – "
"I am mature."
"You need a date, honey. There's no negotiating this."
He sighs. "Alright, fine. I'll find a date."
"Thank you!"
They say their goodbyes, and he hangs up the phone. Running a hand down his face, he takes a deep breath and presses the button on his desk to page Alison.
"Yes, Mr. Moon?" she says politely, walking into his office.
"I need you to be my plus one for my family's Christmas party next Friday."
"You mean…like a date?" she asks, raising her eyebrow.
"That's what we're calling it, yeah."
"Aw, you want me to help you feel the Christmas spirit at the Christmas party?" she asks with a grin.
He rolls his eyes. "No, I just need my mom to get off my back about having a date. And you're my assistant. So assist me."
"Well, I could never pass up a Christmas party."
"Great. I'll e-mail you the address and the details. You'll have to come a bit early so you're there with me to greet the guests. Also, dress like a rich person." He looks her up and down distastefully. "If you know how."
Alison plasters a polite smile on her face (he knows she's just itching to give him some snarky remark, but she's already walking on thin ice after the holly fiasco last week). Then, she walks out of the office.
The party started at seven. He told her to be here at six-thirty. It's seven-thirty now. And who still isn't here?
None other than Alison Dawson.
He knew he couldn't trust a poor person.
He paces in the ballroom, checking the clock on the wall every few seconds and staring at the door in between, half-heartedly making small talk with the patrons of the party.
"Hello, sweetheart," his mother says, walking up to him.
"Hi, mom," he says, kissing her cheek.
"Where's your date?"
"Oh… She's, um, not here yet."
"Well, didn't you tell her to come early?"
"Yes."
"And not to be late?"
"Yes."
"And that this is very important?"
"She got the message."
"Then where is she?"
Austin opens his mouth to reply that he has no idea, when suddenly the door opens and a gust of cold wind sweeps into the room. In walks (more like stumbles) a very flustered-looking Alison. She catches his eye and rushes over to him, her cheeks and nose rosy from the biting winter air and her eyes wide in embarrassment and guilt.
"I am so sorry I'm late!" she says, speaking way too loud than is appropriate causing a few people to stare. "I just – well, I knew there wouldn't be parking so I took a cab but the cab driver got lost and then there was a car accident and there was bumper-to-bumper traffic for like five miles and – and – "
His mother's chuckling cuts her off, and Alison stares at her, eyes even wider.
"It's alright, honey. We're just glad you could make it."
The poor brunette swallows, her cheeks tinting pink (and not just from the cold).
"Thanks," she says, finally speaking at an appropriate volume. "I – I'm Ally, by the way." Austin gives her a not-so-subtle jab in the side with his elbow. She winces. "Alison," she corrects herself. "I'm Alison."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alison," Austin's mother says with a smile. "I'm Mimi."
The two women shake hands, and Alison seems to relax just slightly.
"Austin, why don't you take Alison around to meet the guests?" his mother suggests.
He nods and offers his arm out to the brunette. She stares at it, then at him. He rolls his eyes and grabs her arm, lacing it through his.
"Can you do anything right?" he mutters under his breath as he begins to lead her to the guests.
"I – I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm not used to this stuff. I'm trying my best."
"Well, try harder. You're making me look bad."
The brunette doesn't say anything until they meet a few guests, and then the smile is on her face and she's being polite (even though she's saying all the wrong things).
"I'm Alison, it's a pleasure to meet you! Is this your mother?" she asks a man in his thirties.
Austin's eyes widen and he jabs her in the side again to shut her up, but the damage has already been done. He tries to clean it up as best he can.
"What she meant was that you have such a youthful glow – " he starts, but the couple is already gone.
"What'd I say?" Alison asks innocently.
"That was his wife, you dimwit!" Austin hisses quietly.
The brunette's eyes widen to the size of saucers. "I am so sorry!"
"Could you possibly make me look any worse?!" he whisper-yells.
"Well, I'm sorry that I don't know anything about rich-people etiquette!" she whispers back. "I'm doing the best I can! Maybe if you had given me some heads-up – "
"Austin Moon, is that you?" a man's voice brings them out of their quiet argument.
Austin looks away from Alison and at the speaker. He smiles amiably.
"Dez Wade, in the flesh," he replies, his smile widening by the second as he shakes his best friend's hand.
They haven't seen each other in a while, what with their busy lives and never crossing paths in their endeavors. Dez's family's business is based around travel, so he's gone most of the year.
"Who's this?" the redhead asks, looking at Alison.
"This is Alison," Austin replies, grateful that for once she kept her mouth shut.
"It's very nice to meet you," Dez says with a pleasant smile, taking the girl's hand and pressing a soft kiss to it. Immediately her cheeks flush pink.
"She's not used to your antics," Austin says with a chuckle.
"My sincerest apologies," Dez says jokingly. "It's a rich-people thing."
The way Dez says it isn't rude (as everything that comes out of Austin's mouth is), but it's teasing, almost mock-apologetic, like 'I know, we're weird.' It annoys Austin just slightly, but then again Dez has always been better with people than he is.
Austin jabs Ally, a bit lighter this time, to let her know she should say something.
"It's nice to meet you too," she says immediately. "Apparently there are a lot of rich-people things I don't know about."
Austin is about to jab her again for saying the wrong thing, but Dez just laughs.
"I bet. Well, I should probably go make my rounds. You know how it goes" – he looks at Austin as he says this – "but I hope we run into each other again." He shakes Austin's hand, gives Ally a smile, and walks away.
Before Austin can catch his breath and prepare himself for the next stressful scenario, his father walks up, accompanied by Johnathan Sanders, a.k.a. the most important man at the party. He and Austin are in the middle of negotiating a partnership between their companies, and Johnathan is still unsure. Austin's only twenty-eight, after all, and fairly new to the business field, at least compared to the thirty-nine-year-old. Austin knows he has to impress him, and he hopes to any of his Christmas ghosts or whatever Alison calls them that she keeps her mouth shut.
"Austin, look who I ran into," his father says with a tight smile, the look in his eyes telling him that if he screws this up, the consequences will be dire.
"Of course, Mr. Sanders," Austin says with another polite smile, shaking the man's hand.
"Now, Austin, if we're going to be partners, I have to insist you call me Johnathan." Luckily, the man's tone is joking. Austin lets out a nervous breath, keeping the smile on his face.
"Right. Johnathan."
"And who is this lovely lady?" the man asks, looking at Alison.
"This is Alison, my date."
"Of course," Johnathan says, holding out his hand. Austin jabs her and she starts slightly, reaching out her hand to shake his, offering him a smile.
"You know, John, my son has managed to triple the income of the business since he took charge," his father brags. Austin smiles proudly.
"In all my years, I have never seen such a put-together man of your young age," Johnathan says with an approving nod, looking at Austin.
"Well, that can't be very many," Alison interjects, the tone in her voice joking. "You don't look a day over fifty!"
Immediately, the three men freeze. Austin's in so much shock that he doesn't even jab her in the side for her mistake. He turns to Johnathan.
"Sir, I am so sorry – " he starts.
Johnathan holds up a hand to stop him. After receiving an extremely disapproving look from his father, he watches as the other two men walk away.
"What did I say?" Ally asks innocently.
Austin suppresses his groan of anger and annoyance, instead detangling his arm from hers and storming out of the room. He walks upstairs and onto the large balcony.
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas…
The words of the Christmas song flow faintly from the ballroom through the open doors, and this time he does let out a groan. He can't believe how stupid Alison is, how stupid he is for bringing her, how stupid the world is for putting him in this position.
His thoughts return to Alison again. The girl can't do anything right tonight. She didn't even dress appropriately. While everyone else is in elegant black or white gowns, she had to go with a bright red, form-fitting dress and matching heels. The only redeeming quality of that decision is that at least it reaches the floor, so she doesn't look as inappropriate as she could.
Although, if even he was distracted for a second or two by her body in that dress, it's definitely too inappropriate for a party such as this.
He leans against the railing and stares out at the city. This time, all the lights are shining, all the decorations are lit up, and the whole freaking city looks happy. How dare they be having a good night when his is so terrible?
He sighs and closes his eyes as the winter breeze nips at his face.
He hears the clicking of high heels behind him and wishes it wasn't who he knows it is.
"So…your father informed me that Mr. Sanders is thirty-nine. And that I am a disgrace to your business and your family. And that he does not approve. I am so sorry," she says.
He feels her arm brush against his as she leans against the railing next to him. A thought crosses his mind that she must be freezing in that sleeveless dress she's wearing, but that's her fault for not grabbing her cardigan before coming up here.
"I…I know you're probably gonna fire me after messing up so many times, but if there's anything I can do – "
"I'm not going to fire you," he interrupts her quietly. "It was my fault for thinking you could handle it."
"Well…I could've if I had had a bit of warning coming into it. 'Ally, don't speak unless you're spoken to.' 'Ally, don't try to guess people's ages.' 'Ally, rich people do weird stuff, be prepared.'"
"I just figured it was common sense."
"Well… It's not. And besides, why is all of this so serious and important? It's a Christmas party, isn't it? Where are all the festivities? I mean, you've got the decorations and the music and the alcoholic eggnog, but where's the spirit?"
"Rich people aren't cheesy like that."
"It's not cheesy to be in the Christmas mood. It's human. Are you honestly saying that all this" – she gestures to the twinkling, joyful city below them – "doesn't make you happy?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
She sighs and turns around so her back is leaning on the railing. "Why don't you like Christmas?"
"I just…don't, okay? I didn't have some traumatic childhood experience, I didn't find out Santa isn't real by some terrible mistake, I didn't not get any gifts as a kid, I just don't like Christmas. It's annoying and pointless and just not worth all the stress that comes with it.
"It's not meant to be stressful," Alison tries.
"Well, for everyone it is. My parents have been freaking out about this party since Halloween."
"It's supposed to be fun and happy and all about giving and loving."
"Sounds like something you'd say," he mutters.
He glances over and notices her fiddling with something in her hands.
"I – um, I got you something. Part Christmas present, part thanks-for-not-firing-me-after-the-whole-'deck the halls'-thing present." She clears her throat. "It's stupid, but…" She holds out a bag to him.
He sighs and decides to humor her for once, turning around so his back is against the railing as well and taking the bag from her. The bag is red with two elves on it, decked out in green outfits with the usual pointy green hats and shoes. Sparkly white tissue paper looks like it was carefully placed in the bag to look perfect, and he can't help but think, of course.
He pulls the paper out of the bag and takes out what looks to be a mug wrapped in more paper. So he unwraps that, and finds a plain-looking white mug with '#1 Boss' on the side in big red lettering. He looks at her, and she smiles sheepishly.
"Well…you always complain that the coffee cups at the office are too hot for your hand and too small, so I thought maybe you could use your own mug. Plus, you're the CEO, so you should have one. And then I'd just be able to be like, 'Oh, there's Mr. Moon's mug' and get your coffee instead of digging around in the cabinet for the thicker coffee cups. I know it's silly – "
"Thank you," he interrupts her, putting it back in the bag.
He notices her cheeks turn pinker in the moonlight, and thinks to himself that maybe she should work on her people skills, because apparently even a mere thank you causes her to blush.
"You're welcome," she says quietly.
I really can't stay, but baby it's cold outside…
More music floats outside from the party, and he realizes that they've been gone for a while.
"We should get back inside," he says, offering his arm. She loops her arm through his (she actually did it right) and together, they walk back into the party.
Upon reentering the room, Austin notices that the tense air has dissipated. There are couples dancing to the music, friends laughing together, and an overall feeling of ease in the ballroom. He leads Alison to the middle of the room and turns to face her, placing his right hand on the small of her back and taking her right hand in his left. She rests her free hand on his shoulder and looks at him nervously.
"I'm not the best at dancing…I'll probably just end up embarrassing you again."
"Well, maybe if you follow my lead for once, you'll surprise yourself."
He surely surprised himself at the slightly teasing tone in his voice instead of the cold, bitter one he was aiming for. Alison blushes slightly.
They sway to the music for a while before Austin decides to test his luck and twirl her. She seems surprised, but thankfully she doesn't trip.
They dance until about halfway through the next song, when Dez approaches them again.
"May I cut in?" he asks Austin.
"Of course," Austin replies with a smile, handing a very nervous-looking Ally off to his friend.
"Don't worry," Dez jokes, "I won't try anything."
Austin rolls his eyes and leaves the pair, walking over to the beverage table. Before he can get anything, he hears his father's voice behind him.
"She almost ruined that for you. Fortunately, I fixed it."
"I know, okay?" Austin says. "Alison isn't one-percenter material. I should've told her what to do ahead of time. Thank you for fixing it."
"You're welcome. I hope she's just your date for this function, and you aren't actually interested in her."
"Don't worry, dad. That's all she is. She's my assistant at work."
"Good. Keep her like that. Although she doesn't seem very efficient, what with her lack of common sense."
"She's perfectly fine. If you're just here to criticize me, I've done enough of that to myself, thanks."
Austin's father exhales and takes a sip of his drink.
"I have a piece of advice for you, father to son." Austin looks at him. "Be careful who you are interested in. Because someone like her – " he nods over to where Alison is giggling very un-elegantly with Dez – "is not the type of person who would be good for your career."
"Thanks," Austin says, his throat suddenly tight. "I'll keep that in mind."
His father nods and walks away to mingle. Austin continues watching Alison with Dez, finding himself slightly amused at how much she sticks out among all the aristocrats at the party. It's almost like her unique personality is embodied in her unique dress, a literal representation of how different she is from everyone else he knows.
Christmas ghosts help him, he likes it.
Pretty soon, the party starts dying down and guests are dwindling. He's saying goodbye to the partygoers, Alison smiling and waving on his arm, thankfully not saying anything other than polite goodbyes.
Once all the guests are gone, the three Moons let out a collective sigh of relief, and Alison just looks around at the empty ballroom in awe.
"Whoa. This room is huge."
"Yes, a little bit," Austin mother says with an amused chuckle. "It was so nice meeting you, Alison."
"You too," the brunette replies with a smile.
Austin's father shakes the girl's hand wordlessly, and then his parents leave the room.
"So…" Alison says as they stand together in the doorway. Austin raises an eyebrow at her. "My cab's gonna be here soon."
"Cool."
"Thanks for inviting me to be your date," she says. "After all the catastrophes, this party was actually pretty fun."
Fun. Not pleasant, or enjoyable, or nice, or any other word anyone else he knows would've described it. But fun. Said by the only one in red, figures.
"Yeah, I guess it was."
"And I'm sorry again. For, y'know, almost ruining everything, like, five times. Sometimes I feel like things would be easier if you were inside me." He raises an eyebrow, and her eyes widen. "I mean, like, your brain! Like, if I knew your thoughts and knew what to say and do! Not…oh my goodness. No. I just – I just meant – no."
Her cheeks are as red as her dress, and she runs her hand through her now-loose curls.
Austin bites back the sarcastic comment he almost makes, because this is his assistant, his coworker, and he's supposed to be bossy and rude anyway.
She fans her red cheeks and looks up at the ceiling, only to blush even redder and shut her eyes tightly. He knits his eyebrows and looks up too, only to see a tiny green plant hanging from the ceiling.
Even he knows the difference between holly and mistletoe.
Well, rules are rules.
But these rules? They're Christmas rules. And he doesn't do Christmas.
She opens one eye to look at him, and then the other.
"That's – "
"Mistletoe. I know, Alison."
"Well, I'm just as unhappy about this as you are, but I am a firm celebrator of Christmas so just kiss me and – "
She's cut off by the loud beeping of a horn, and both of them perk up before exhaling sighs of relief.
"Taxi's here," Austin says. "You should go."
"Right. Thank you. And sorry. Again. Bye."
She grabs her bag and cardigan, waves goodbye, and hurries out.
Only she would get her heel caught in between the cobblestones of the walkway and nearly break her ankle.
"I'm okay!" she calls back to him, giving him a thumb's up.
He rolls his eyes and shuts the door, leaning against it and looking up at the ceiling, unable to contain the small chuckle and shake of his head.
He stands up again and walks to his car, driving home to get ready for bed.
He doesn't dream of sugarplum fairies, but red dresses and mistletoe definitely dance in his head.
On Monday, she brings him his coffee in his mug, a proud grin on her face as she hands him the hot drink.
"Not too hot for your hand, is it Mr. Moon?" she asks smugly.
"No, it's not. Thank you, Alison."
He takes a sip of the drink and sets it down, looking at the festive candies in his jar again and picking up a Hershey's kiss in red foil wrapping.
She starts to leave, but he stops her.
"You're forgetting something," he says.
"I am?" She immediately looks at the ceiling as she no doubt goes over her mental list of things she was supposed to do before getting him his morning coffee. He knows that one comment made her nervous, especially after her performance at Friday's party.
"I believe I owe you a kiss."
Her eyes snap to his, wide as saucers. "That was only because we were under the mistletoe – " she splutters.
He wordlessly tosses the Hershey's kiss in her direction. It bounces off her nose before falling on the ground. She frowns and picks it up.
"A Hershey's kiss?" Realization crosses her features. "Ohhhh, I get it. You owe me a kiss." She holds up the candy and smiles. "Smooth, Mr. Moon."
He sighs and immediately knows he's going to regret his next sentence. He leans his elbows on his desk and closes his eyes, rubbing his temples and muttering, "Just call me Austin, Alison."
She's silent, and he opens his eyes hesitantly to look up at her.
Of course, she's grinning.
"Only if you call me Ally."
He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Alright, fine."
She holds her hand out, and he raises an eyebrow, taking it. She shakes his hand firmly.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Austin."
He runs his free hand down his face, letting out a quiet chuckle at the girl's antics, unable to really do anything else.
"Sure, you too."
"I'd be a great businesswoman, huh? Like you, but nicer." Her eyes widen. "I didn't mean that! I – I meant nicer as in…with nicer employees. Because your assistant, man, she's a handful, am I right?"
"Just…" He makes shooing motions with his hands, and she swallows and hurries out, her head down.
Once she's gone, he crosses his arms on his desk and buries his face in them, letting out a noise between a whine and a groan, which turns into a full-blown laugh as their conversation replays in his head.
"You're something," he mutters to himself, sitting up and running a hand down his face again. "Man…you're something."
His finger slips and turns up the radio, and he finds himself humming along to the familiar song.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas…
He continues working, a small smile playing on his lips.
Soon the bells will start, and the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing right within your heart…
"So, you've had a change of heart, huh?" the brunette asks, walking into his lavish penthouse apartment and looking around.
"Sure, you could call it that," he says, closing the door behind her.
"You know, it's weird not seeing you in a business suit. I figured you'd be more of a button-up and jeans kind of guy, but t-shirts and sweats look good on you too." Her eyes widen, but then she sighs. "Why bother anymore?"
"Right. Anyway, I went out and bought all these Christmas decorations, but I need your eye to tell me what to do with them."
Ally peeks in all the shopping bags, then looks at the huge tree already set up by the window. "Tacky. Excellent."
He blinks, looking at her expectantly.
"Right. Well, we can't even start without getting in the mood."
"The mood?"
"The mood."
He raises an eyebrow and she walks over to the flat screen against the wall. She grabs the remote and turns it on, flipping to the Christmas music channel and blasting the volume.
Then, she dances over to the kitchen, humming along to the song, and grabs hot chocolate mix and candy canes out of the shopping bags. She makes them both a mug of hot cocoa, complete with marshmallows and a candy cane in each cup.
"Now, we're in the mood," she says, sipping her hot chocolate. He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his.
Her hot chocolate is literally the best he's ever had.
But he hasn't told her that. He doesn't think he's going to.
"Alright, let's start with the lights." She sets her mug on the counter, and he sets his next to it. "I'm thinking we hang them around this whole room, around the wall."
She points around the room as she talks, and he nods, grabbing the lights and climbing up the ladder he already set up.
"So, who're you trying to impress with all this stuff? Since clearly it's not your thing. You don't have your own 'Santa baby', do you?" He can just see her wiggling her eyebrows behind him.
"Like you said, I had a change of heart."
"Okay, but, like, the truth."
"That is the truth!"
"Mmhm," she says doubtfully.
"Oh, go…decorate the tree or something," he tells her, rolling his eyes.
"Aye, aye, Captain."
He closes his eyes and sighs before opening them again and continuing his work.
After he finishes hanging the lights, Ally instructs him to deck his halls with the boughs of holly he bought (because she doesn't trust herself to do it anymore). And off to work he goes again.
"You know," Ally calls to him from the living room. "It's kinda fun bossing you around for once. I feel so powerful."
He rolls his eyes.
They work in silence for a while, with nothing but the blaring Christmas carols between them.
He doesn't like it. (He totally does.)
When he finishes the holly, she immediately sends him off with the mistletoe, telling him to hang it wherever he pleases.
He hangs one in the front doorway, one in the kitchen, and – oh, he's gonna regret this one – one in the middle of the living room, in front of the tree.
"Alright, now what?" he asks when he's done.
"Now, you put the star on top of the tree, while I go jingle your bells."
Another eyebrow raise, another wide-eyed pause. The poor brunette closes her eyes and counts to three slowly before walking off, jingle bells in hand.
He realizes that he never gave her a tour, but she seems to be finding her way around his apartment just fine.
Maybe if her red sweats didn't have Santa Baby in big white letters across her butt he wouldn't be so freaking turned on by that.
He sighs and climbs the ladder with the tacky light-up star in hand. After about five minutes of positioning and repositioning the dumb thing, he finally manages to place it perfectly on the top of the tree.
He climbs down just as Ally returns from down the hall.
"Now, we gotta wrap the rest of the tinsel around the railing on your staircase and up there." She points to the railing where the second floor overlooks the living room. "And then we're done!"
She drinks the rest of her hot chocolate and puts her empty mug in the sink next to his.
"And then were done?"
"Mmhm. You'll be so Christmas-y, even Santa will be impressed."
"Perfect."
Together, they make their way up the stairs, wrapping the tinsel around the railing as they go. After dropping it down to the living room about seven times trying to wrap it around the upstairs railing, Ally finally finishes the last bit of decorations.
"Done!" she exclaims with a grin, surveying their work from where they stand upstairs.
"Thanks for the help."
"Of course. Christmas is kinda my thing."
She walks downstairs with a bounce in her step and he shakes his head, following close behind her.
"Wait! We have to light the tree!"
"Right," he says, walking over and plugging in the lights. The tree bursts to life, the twinkling white lights reflecting off the ornaments and tinsel Ally so intricately decorated it with. The bright star on top is brighter than all of it, and Austin can't help the smile that forms on his face as he stands next to Ally and looks at the tree.
"Well, you just look as jolly as Saint Nick himself," she says with a grin, poking his side.
He rolls his eyes. "You're a dork."
He didn't mean to sound that flirty. He shoves her lightly to counteract it. Why did he think that would work?
"I think you're a dork." She shoves him back.
"No, you're a dork." He shoves her again.
"No you're a – "
He cuts her off by whacking her gently with a couch pillow.
"Hey!" she exclaims.
She takes the pillow and grabs his shirt to keep him in place in order to hit him again, but neither of them realized how close they were until they were practically nose to nose.
They stare at each other for a few seconds. He can see about a million thoughts running through her head, and he'd be lying if he said the same thing wasn't happening to him. He swallows and wonders just how unlucky he can be as he hesitantly glances at the ceiling.
He looks back down at her, and her eyes snap to his right after.
"I'm just as unhappy about this as you are," he starts, "but I am a firm celebrator of – mmph!"
She cuts him off by pulling him down and kissing him, and his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes close in surprise. He rests his hand on the small of her back, and then his other hand follows, and then both his arms are around her waist and pulling her as close as possible because he's kissing her.
He brings his right hand up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb softly along her cheekbone. She shivers and he feels her lips curve into a smile as she wraps her arms around his neck.
Eventually, they pull away and look at each other, once again with nothing between them but the forgotten Christmas music in the background.
Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tries to stop…
"Austin, you should invite Alison to Christmas Eve! You mentioned she doesn't have any family here in Miami, didn't you?"
"Bring her. Maybe she can redeem herself for the party. And there won't be anyone important."
"I'm sure she'll love it, honey! Invite her! It'll just be us, your grandparents, and Dez with his parents!"
"Do something good for once, son."
So that's how he finds himself sitting on the couch next to Ally, wanting to dig himself a hole and die while she snorts ungracefully at a story about his childhood.
"And then," his grandmother continues, "he ran up and down the street with the syrup still in his hair and the bra still over his eyes!"
Everyone continues laughing, and he rolls his eyes.
"Okay, next story!" he says loudly.
"I think the food's just about ready!" his mother says, glancing at his father in the kitchen. (His father's always been the better cook of the two.)
They all move from the living room to the dining room and seat themselves around the huge table as Austin's father brings the food out and sets it in the center.
Austin sits between Dez and Ally, and unfortunately for him, his grandmother sits to Ally's left.
He notices Ally watching everyone's movements warily and trying to copy exactly what they do. He chuckles in amusement and stands up again. His mother knits her eyebrows at him.
"I just have to borrow Ally for a quick second before we start. We won't be long."
Dez wiggles his eyebrows at him as Ally stands up and follows him out of the room.
"What'd I do? I promise, I'm being extra careful and not saying anything out of turn and I don't wanna screw it up like last time and I really want them to like me and I'm trying my best and – "
"Ally," he interrupts her, unable to hide his quiet chuckle. "You're doing fine. Loosen up. It's Christmas Eve, remember? Your favorite night of the year."
"Right," she says.
He nods and starts leading her back in the room.
"Hey Austin?"
He turns to look at her. "Hmm?"
She smiles. "I'm glad I get to spend the night with you."
He raises his eyebrow (a movement that's become all too familiar) as her smile fades and her palm flies to her forehead.
This time, he can't stop himself. "Is this one of those times you wish I was inside you?"
"Oh – Austin!"
He laughs at her red face and takes her hand, leading her back to the dining room.
After dinner, Austin needs some air. (Granny had a little too much of the alcoholic eggnog and started going on and on about what beautiful children he and Ally would make.) It doesn't surprise him when he glances over to see Ally standing next to him.
"I'm sorry for her," Austin says. "She's…"
"I like her," Ally said decidedly.
Austin smiles a bit. "Thanks."
"Anyway…are we gonna talk about what happened the other day?"
"You think we should?"
"I mean…yeah. That kind of thing doesn't just happen without things changing."
"Well, I believe you kissed me under the mistletoe."
"And you kissed me back."
"Yep, that about covers it."
Ally's silent for a while, staring out at the city. And a silent Ally sends Austin on high alert. His heart starts pounding as he thinks of every bad outcome of this silence, until finally she speaks again.
"I like you," she says. "Which I know is super unprofessional, but you can only make so many unintentional sexual innuendoes about a guy before it makes you wonder. Not that I've thought about having sex with you! I – I mean, it might've crossed my mind once or twice, but that's not the point! I just – I – you're looking at me…and you're looking at me strangely. Stranger than usual. And you're leaning in…and you're still doing it…and you're laughing…and I should really shut up now."
The brunette finally stops talking when his lips connect with hers. But there's no mistletoe above them, no age-old Christmas laws to uphold. It's just them. And he's kissing his dorky, ungraceful, unique, one-in-a-million assistant.
And he's loving every second of it.
He wraps his arms around her tightly, bringing her close once again and relishing in the feeling of her eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones. This time it's him who's smiling, and as the freezing winter air hits them, he doesn't think he's ever felt warmer.
A familiar lyric comes to mind.
And when we finally kiss goodnight, how I'll hate going out in the storm. But if you really hold me tight, all the way home I'll be warm…
He's just finished cooking breakfast when he hears a cheerful knock at the door. (How she manages to make even a knock sound cheery, he doesn't know.)
He smiles and opens the door, revealing his girlfriend (yeah, yeah, he asked her last night, he knows it's cheesy, whatever) decked out in a reindeer onesie, complete with a hood that has a blinking light-up red nose and felt antlers sticking out the sides.
"Merry Christmas!" she says happily, throwing her arms in the air.
He chuckles and shakes his head, pulling her into the doorway with him to hug her. Without even looking up, he says, "Oh darn. Look at that. Under the mistletoe again."
"I'm just as unhappy about this as you are," she jokes before pulling him into her for a light kiss. "Are those pancakes?" she asks as she pulls away far too soon, walking into the apartment and setting her bag on the counter.
"Sure, come in," he says sarcastically, shutting the door behind her. "You like cinnamon, don't you?"
"It's only the third-greatest flavor on the planet, after chocolate and peppermint, of course."
"Speaking of chocolate and peppermint…"
He opens the microwave and pulls out a mug of hot cocoa with a candy cane sticking out of it. It's kind of become their thing.
She grins and takes a sip of it.
"Yours is better," he warns her.
"Yours is just as good," she promises.
He smiles and prepares both their plates for breakfast, and together they sit at the table and start eating.
"By the way, you're fired."
The poor brunette chokes on her pancake and coughs for a good three minutes straight before finally regaining her composure.
"What?!"
"You're fired," he repeats. "I can't date someone who works for me, that's just unprofessional. Fortunately, I'm a great boyfriend and got you an assistant job with an old colleague of mine. Pays way better, and you're assisting a girl, so I don't have to worry about you doing all this again."
He reaches across the table and taps her nose with his index finger.
"Thanks, I guess," she says.
"Are you mad?"
"No," she says, shaking her head. "I get it. But what about you?"
"Well, she said you can start working whenever, so I was thinking you could just stick with me until I find a new assistant. If that's fine."
"Yeah. Just make sure it's a guy. Wouldn't want you doing all this again, either." She reaches across the table and taps his nose, mimicking what he did before.
"Alright, that's fair," he says with a chuckle.
They finish eating, and then he drags her to the tree and grabs a small wrapped gift from underneath it.
"Merry Christmas, Ally."
He hands it to her, and she smiles and opens it. Inside is a smaller wrapped box and a homemade book. She pulls it out and reads the title in his handwriting.
"'Rich-People Events for Dummies'?" She looks at him. "Are you calling me a dummy?"
"Yes. When it comes to rich-people events. That's everything you need to know. And that, my friend, is your new Bible. As my girlfriend, you're gonna have to attend a bunch more rich people events, and as adorable as your screw-ups and sexual innuendoes are, I'd much rather you save all that for me only, y'know?"
"So basically, 'Ally, I swear if you make me look bad again I'm breaking up with you.'"
"Yep." But his tone is teasing.
She rolls her eyes at him and picks up the smaller box. She unwraps it and opens it to reveal a beautiful pair of diamond earrings. They aren't very extravagant, just small dangly earrings that would hardly be noticeable if her hair wasn't worn up, but still, they must've cost a fortune.
"You've gotta have the bling at said events, too, you know," he says cheekily. She looks at him, wide-eyed. "Hey, you have a rich boyfriend now. Get used to stuff like this," he jokes.
"Wow…thank you," she says, still staring at the earrings in awe.
He smiles at her and thanks every Christmas ghost out there for giving her to him right when he needed her.
He presses a light kiss to her cheek, and then another one to her lips.
"Merry Christmas, Austin," she whispers, her lips brushing his.
He smiles and kisses her one more time.
"Merry Christmas, Ally."
special thanks to my cheesy slice of heaven, the Great Lexini. this fic is dedicated to her and her amazingly adorable and cheesy (get it?) ideas. (she co-wrote it with me if it wasn't obvious)