A/N: This is just a Christmas drabble. It's pure fluff. I'll probably be doing a lot of these because I'm a huge Christmas person.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas/ Let your heart be light/ From now on/ Our troubles will be out of sight," Abbie sang as she wrapped gold garland around the Christmas tree. Ichabod sat on the couch, a mug of hot cider warming his hands, watching her with a smile. After he set up the tree, she had turned on a radio station playing Christmas music and dragged out a large cardboard box of Christmas decorations. "Have yourself a merry little Christmas/ Make the Yule-tide gay/ From now on/ Our troubles will be miles away…"
"Here we are as in olden days/ Happy golden days of yore/ Faithful friends who are dear to us/ Gather near to us once more," Ichabod chimed in, unable to stop smiling at Abbie as she pulled out a strand of Christmas lights. She wore a large dark red sweater with a snowman on it, not unlike the green one Ichabod wore, and black leggings tucked into fuzzy gray socks. The sweaters had been a gift from Jenny to celebrate their first Christmas as roommates.
She held it up. "Do you think lights and garland will be too much together?"
"I would prefer the lights to the garland," he replied.
Abbie nodded then took the garland off the tree and replaced it with the lights. She stopped when she couldn't reach and looked around for Ichabod only to find him behind her, readily taking the lights and wrapping it around the top of the tree. Abbie looked up at him with a smirk. "Next year, we're getting a little tree."
"This one is quite little. At least from where I'm standing," he replied as he finished. The tree could only be considered little when Crane stood beside it, standing slightly taller. Abbie only smiled, moving to the box of ornaments. She picked up a slender box of gold balls and began arranging them on the branches. Ichabod picked out the box of identical silver balls. "It is quite interesting that an entire market exists for Christmas decorations."
"Was Christmas not a big deal in your time?"
Ichabod shook his head. "Katrina and her family were Puritans. Christmas was a time for even more staunch worship than usual. There were no decorations or carols, not even a nativity scene. It was considered idol-making."
Abbie smirked. "Sounds festive."
"I find your traditions much more enjoyable." He began placing plastic candy canes on the tree. Admittedly, anything with Abbie was more enjoyable.
Abbie nodded, squatting to adjust the tree's red skirt. She stood and went back into the box to retrieve the large gold star to top the tree. Ichabod took it with a smile and placed it atop the large tree. Abbie plugged in the lights and the tree glowed in its corner.
"Miss Mills, what do I do with this?" Abbie looked up to find him holding a sprig of mistletoe.
"Uh, put it…" She looked around the room. "Put it in the middle of the doorway."
He nodded, walking to the doorway separating the living room and kitchen. Abbie followed with a stepstool, standing on it to use a tiny velvet bow backed with tape to secure the mistletoe to the doorframe. "What does this do, Miss Mills?"
"I'm not really sure why, but you're supposed to kiss under it," Abbie answered, becoming acutely aware that they were standing beneath it.
"Why must you kiss under it specifically?"
"It's just a tradition, Crane."
His eyebrows furrowed. "There must be some historical context for it. Perhaps in the past—"
Abbie's lips on his cut him off with a gentle peck, her hands on his shoulders. She pulled away and looked at him. "It's just a holiday thing. Don't think so hard about it."
Ichabod's hands clasped her waist and he pulled her in for another kiss, this one just as brief as the first but with more fervor. He pulled away and looked at her curiously. "Like so?"
Abbie's face flushed, her body acutely aware of his hands still holding her. She leaned into him, letting her arms rest gently on his shoulders. "Definitely."
This kiss had lost all its tenuousness, instead taking on a curiosity that had been years in the making. Abbie stood on her toes, pressing against Ichabod. He smelled like soap, warmth, the hickory wood of the fireplace, and soft detergent, and something decidedly Crane—it was all over his coat too—that made her stomach flutter each time he was near. He tasted vaguely of cider, the stubble of his beard brushing gently against her chin. Both sure they'd properly and irreversibly crossed the line, they stopped kissing, their foreheads resting against each other.
Ichabod smiled, in no rush to let her go. "Oh the weather outside is frightful/ But the fire is so delightful/ And since we've no place to go/ Let it snow/ Let it snow/ Let it snow…"
Abbie giggled, allowing him to hoist her off the stool. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her face into his neck. "It doesn't show signs of stopping/ And I've got some corn for popping/ The lights are turned way down low/ Let it snow/ Let it snow/ Let it snow…"
"When we finally kiss goodnight/ How I'll hate going out in the storm/ But if you'll really hold me tight/ All the way home I'll be warm…" Ichabod set Abbie down, standing her on his toes as he began waltzing her around.
Abbie wrapped her arms around his neck, looking up at him with a smile. "The fire is slowly dying/ And my dear, we're still goodbying/ As long as you love me so/ Let it snow/ Let it snow/ Let it snow…"
Ichabod brushed her hair back from her face. "Shall we go for another round under the mistletoe?"
"I don't think we need it this time."
A/N: Don't forget to review! XOXOXO