Life On Toast

Christmas in Sokovia (with a Baron) certainly was a very elegant affair. It was a time of champagne, dancing and evening gowns.

But there was another side to it.

There was the side with hot chocolate, candles and Christmas markets. Spending hours bundled up in a certain long leather coat and woollen scarves, wandering through warmly lit ailes of stalls upon stalls upon stalls. Lebkuchen hearts swung slowly in the gentle wintry breeze, and your eyes flickered in the blazing candle light. Hot drinks made your hands glow with warmth. You decorated your Christmas tree with candles too, fake ones that glimmered when the lights were turned off, catching the silvery baubles in a most enchanting way. They threw patterns upon your walls, telling you of long-forgotten tales of cold Christmas nights. It was those cold yet joyful times that made you glad you had someone to spend them with.

Then there was the food: there was no small way to celebrate Sokovia’s celebrated gastronomy at Christmastime. Roast meats (or meat substitutes), stewed cabbage, dumplings… a whole world of flavours that you’d never experienced before. The tang of the cabbage, the hearty cheeses, the softest dumplings. The biscuits alone were something to behold: you made more Lebkuchen, Stollen and Spekulatius biscuits than you cared to mention. Your arms felt ten times stronger than they did in October, before you started rolling biscuit dough for a living (it might as well have been). Who needs the gym? Making biscuits with your Baron was something you enjoyed immensely. Each and every time you vowed that you would make them perfectly, and with a mess-free kitchen at the end; each and every time it looked as if it had snowed inside your house, with every surface covered with flour, including the two of you. You couldn't deny that you thought it was fun, though.

The Baron introduced you to more different foods than you could’ve tasted in a lifetime, and in return you treated him to some of your favourite traditional winter foods. He accepted every dish you made with true gratitude, taking pride in your country’s heritage and traditions. He never stopped telling you how talented you were; how beautiful the food was. This was one of the things you loved most about Zemo - he was so interested in learning everything there is to know about your home country.

One night you decided to treat yourselves and make a veritable feast. You handled the deserts, while Zemo took the savouries. You worked together in the kitchen, so harmoniously, so in sync, it was almost a dance. Waltzing with potatoes, quick stepping by the oven, tango-ing with mulled wine.

The end result was glorious: he whipped up the finest roast meat/meat substitute you’d ever had, it was glazed with honey and lemon, and the delicate flavours exploded in your mouth with every bite. The cabbage was tart, and complemented perfectly the buttery potato salad and soft dumplings on your plate. He truly was a skilled cook, though he never ceased to sing your praises when it came to the dessert course. The flavours of your desserts went together flawlessly, leaving you satisfied with every mouthful. The simmering mulled wine (can be alcohol free) tied everything together, and it slipped down your throat as easily as water. It warmed your stomach and gave you a pleasantly light feeling. All the spices made your nose tingle, and the sweetness was heaven. Citrusy, cinnamon-y, it really was delightful.

Not even the arduous task of the clearing up could spoil the fun; it was so typical of Helmut to turn it into a game. You were singing, dancing and flinging water at each other without a care in the world. By the end of the proceedings you were all but throwing the plates and utensils around, absolutely soaked with soapy water.

The evening ended with more wine beside the roaring fire; dressed in the cosiest pyjamas and slippers, covered with blankets, and chatting away until it was long past midnight. You thought you could never eat another mouthful of anything ever again, but my goodness, it had been a most enjoyable experience to cook this fabulous feast together - you would do it every night if you could.

…

The Yule Ball. Quite possibly the most hotly anticipated date in the school calendar. And you had nobody to go with.

All your friends had been asked, as they told you excitedly in late-night dorm room gossip sessions. You couldn't help but sigh with jealousy, even though you smiled and said you were happy for them. You never got any attention from anybody, and you kind of liked it that way, until this whole Yule Ball business got started. The announcement at the start of the year had got everybody excited, yourself included, but as time went on you grew rather fed up of hearing about it every five minutes. After half-term it got unbearable. Everybody talked about what dresses they were wearing, what shoes they had bought, accessories… it went on and on and on.

If you had to pick somebody to go with, it would be Cedric Diggory. But he’d already be going with someone, there was no way someone like him didn't have a date already.

You’d liked him ever since first year, since that time that your hands accidentally touched in potions, over some sliced Dragon skin. You’d never forgotten it, but you assumed that he had. But… recently, you’ve been catching him looking at you as you pass him in the corridor, more than what would be normal for such an interaction. It was like he was looking for you, actively seeking you out. It was so bizarre that you just couldn't fathom it. Hogwarts’ golden boy was looking at you? (not that it wasn’t warranted, you’re absolutely gorgeous) You shared a DADA class, and it was so weird… you could’ve sworn he spent more time trying to stare at you discreetly than listening to the professor. He was distracting you by doing absolutely nothing at all, and it finally came to a head when the professor asked you a question you couldn’t answer. He just blushed and said you didn’t know, earning you a, frankly, withering look.

You tripped through the rest of the day, confused, until you felt a hand on your shoulder after the end of school, when you were just about to head to your common room. You looked around, and it was Cedric.

‘Y/N… I have something to ask you.’ he said softly, looking into your eyes. He was displaying a rare moment of vulnerability! You stared back at him, too shocked to say anything. He took it as a sign to continue.

‘Listen… I know this is probably a long shot, but would you like to… come to the ball with me?’

Your heart started beating at an alarming pace. You felt sure that he could hear it. Did he really just ask you that? To go to the ball with him? You almost fainted. Before you could do anything silly, you nodded emphatically, a huge grin plastered on your face. He reciprocated it, making your already-madly-beating heart melt.

So that was it. You did have someone to go with after all! Now all of your friend’s boasting made total sense. You wanted to go and scream it out from the Astronomy tower:

I’M GOING TO THE BALL WITH CEDRIC DIGGORY!

But you didn’t. Obviously.

TIMESKIP: THE EVENING OF THE YULE BALL

Tonight’s the night! You had bought your outfit, your shoes, and all the various detritus that comes with an evening out. The weeks following Cedric’s asking you out were nothing like you had ever experienced before. You found him asking you every day how you were, how school was, what your workload was like, etcetera. But he was asking you to actually spend time with him, something you’d never been asked to do before. It was like a dream. Being with Cedric was just so easy - you found out who he really was, outside of his golden-boy persona. He was so lovely, and charming too, and it wasn’t hard to start catching feelings for him. Not that that was any bad thing, of course.

Nobody did much work at school that day, all were too busy dreaming about the night ahead of them. You would not be ashamed to admit that you were among them. The teachers gave you all knowing looks and didn’t set any homework, knowing what you’d all be up to the instant school was finished for the day. It turned out that they were correct: straight after potions, you shot to the common room at lightning speed, opening the door of your dorm to all your giggling friends, already drunk on the party atmosphere of the party that wouldn’t start for hours.

It continued as the hours passed and you all got ready, laughing and smiling. You were genuinely really looking forward to it, more than you thought you would. Most of all, you were excited to see Cedric and spend the night with him. Hair done, outfit on, shoes on, you looked an absolute picture. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t really believe it was you. All your friends looked similarly stunning, and marvelled at your ethereal beauty. After that, well, it was time. Descending your dorm room stairs like a host of heavenly angels, everyone in the common room turned their gaze to you. Some of the girls paired off with their dates in the same house, and some of them walked off to meet theirs elsewhere.

Cedric was nowhere to be found, and you grew anxious. Your friends reassured you and told you that he was probably waiting for you at the ball. You nodded, took a deep breath, and headed towards the Great Hall. it wasn’t an easy task in your shoes, but you managed well enough, until you saw the stairs. You decided to stand regally at the top of the staircase for a moment, like royalty surveying their kingdom, to delay your descent. You glanced around worriedly, looking for your date. The hall was decorated immaculately; stars twinkling where the ceiling would be, snow on the white floor, glittering silver tinsel and baubles everywhere the eye could see.

Like a charm, Cedric was standing at the bottom of the large staircase, just staring at you, open-mouthed. He himself looked striking in a black tuxedo and dress robes, his white bow tie tied perfectly. His stunned face gave you the encouragement you needed to start descending the stairs, almost gliding, in fact. You reached him, and he finally recovered.

‘Y/N… I can’t believe this. You look absolutely stunning.’ he said, taking your hand and placing a kiss upon it.

‘Well, Cecric, it has to be said, you do clean up pretty well.’ you quipped back. ‘But seriously, you look fantastic. Really handsome.’ you added quietly, blushing a little. It was true! He really did look amazing, like your very own Prince Charming.

He offered you his arm, smiling, and led you into the hall. He chatted to you whilst you got drinks, and you stood together at the side of the room, sipping on wonderfully fruity mocktails. After a while, he threw you a smirk and held out his hand. You knew what came next. Dancing with Cedric Diggory! You never thought you’d see the day.

Just as you made your way to the dance floor, the up-tempo tune changed to a slow waltz. You’d been dreading a situation like this; luckily, Cedric knew what to do. He held you close, arms around you, and gently pulled you along with him. Eventually, you found the beat and your feet just moved themselves. Once you didn’t have to put all your focus on not tripping over, this dancing business was actually rather enjoyable! You looked up at him for the first time, your eyes locking instantly. He was a much better view than your shoes. You held his gaze throughout the whole rest of the song, and even when it finished, you just stood there, looking at each other.

You finally broke your trance, noticing that the waltz had been replaced with a fast-paced number. The change was almost painful. Once again, Cedric knew exactly what to do; it was like he’d been practising (he probably had been, just to impress you). He held your hands and you jumped around together, attracting the most scathing looks, but for once in your life not caring in the slightest.

And so it carried on that way, hour after precious hour, changing how you danced with each new song. From crazy jigging to Viennese waltzing, you did it all.

Finally, at the end of the evening, he tucked your arm in his and walked you back to your common room, leaving you with a soft kiss on the cheek to remember the night by. You couldn’t sleep that night; your head was filled with the technicolour whirlwind of an evening. Of course, you’d see him tomorrow, and probably every day after that until the end of time, but you would remember that night for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t wait.

…

You were in the kitchen with Bruce. The charity Christmas galas you had to attend with him at this time of year were just so tiresome. You wished you never had to go at all, but you knew it was important for Bruce’s status that he attended - and that meant that you had to go, too. You had got changed out of your ridiculously fancy outfit and into your Christmas pyjamas.

You were cooking dinner and he was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. Some article about stocks or the like. The radio was playing quietly in the corner, as it so often was. The station had been infected with all the Christmas hits. You were ever-so-slightly swaying to the drum beat, totally unconsciously. Dancing was something that you quite enjoyed, you had to admit. Though not whilst being watched by hundreds of people who would just as soon step on you than look at you. Being Bruce Wayne’s partner certainly had some interesting side effects.

Suddenly, the opening notes to your favourite Christmas song started playing; it had a slow beat, perfect for dancing. You wanted to share this romantic moment with Bruce, the love of your life.

You had been together for a few years, each one more loving than the last. To be honest, you were thinking about asking him to marry you.

So, you glided towards Bruce, keen to capture him in a dance. Bruce was a total flirt, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it either. You loved his flirtatious remarks, and especially when he called you beautiful or gorgeous or stunning. It always made your day. He could always cheer you up whenever you were down with a simple, sunny smile, and you loved him for it.

You reached your destination, stopping in front of Bruce with a grin. He was so absorbed in his newspaper that he hadn’t noticed you yet, so you held out your hand for him to grab. He looked up and met your eyes lovingly. He stood in one, fluid motion, and placed his arms around you. You had never felt safer. Slowly, the two of you began to sway to the beat, and once again caught each other’s gaze; completely full of love.

The song seemed to last forever, and you felt the happiest you had felt in a while. With him, nothing else mattered, only the two of you. You heard the quietest of creaks and ever-so-gentle footsteps, and Alfred appeared at the door, unbeknownst to you. He had come to ask Bruce for some advice, and to tell him his post had arrived, but instead he stopped, smiled, and left the two lovers to their waltz.

Finally, the song finished, but you kept on swaying, not wanting to disturb the perfect peace of the wonderful moment you were in. If it were possible, you would have stopped time and stayed like that forever. Bruce stopped, though, and slightly surprised, so did you. You just held each other for a minute. At last, he brought you slightly away from him, looked into your eyes, smiled that gorgeous smile and kissed your forehead gently, before pulling you back into a hug.

And people say that romance is dead.

…

Today was the day. Alice had somehow convinced you and Rosalie to come shopping with her. After much begging and pleading, you had no choice but to give in. Much as you had complained about it, a tiny part of you had been looking forward to it.

Setting off early in the morning, the three of you made your way to Seattle, as Alice said it had ‘the BEST shops!’. You had to take her word for it on that one. You knew next to nothing about all that sort of thing, and Rosalie had to agree. Shopping was very much Alice’s forte, not that she hadn’t tried to change that with you two. The car ride had been very uneventful, but you had requested Christmas songs on the way, and before you knew where you were, you were all yelling the words at the tops of your voices. Even Rosalie had been persuaded to join in.

Several rounds of Step into Christmas and one particularly heartfelt rendition of ABBA’s Happy New Year later, you reached the city, before finally swinging into a parking spot just as you were belting out the final chorus of Christmas Lights. The festivities didn’t stop there; you all but danced down the street, arm in joyful arm. Every shop was totally decked out with every kind of decoration you could possibly imagine. Bells jingling, fake candles flickering, fake snow glittering; it was a magical sight to see. There was real snow on the pavement and on the roads, turning to slush as you walked through it. Thank goodness today wasn’t a sunny day, or else you’d all be sparkling like the snow.

The first shop you wandered into was, of course, a clothes shop. You knew that there’d be no escaping it, with Alice in charge of the trip. You dutifully tried on all the clothes she practically threw at you, and even found a few pieces that you actually liked. Say what you like about Alice, but she has damn good taste. She said that you’d need outfits for several occasions, including Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day and New Year’s Eve. and that was just for starters. The pair of you decided to humour her and just go along with what she was telling you. Rosalie looked absolutely stunning in a short, sparkly red dress that made her legs look ten miles long and set off her pearly skin perfectly. Alice herself was happily parading around in a white number, that she said was ‘perfect for New Year’s Eve!’

Next, you found yourself in a bookstore, trying to find presents for the rest of the Cullens. Shopping with Alice was like walking in a tornado; you never knew where you’d end up next. You decided on a book on the history of Chicago for Edward, and some medical tome for Carlisle, not that there wasn’t anything about medicine that he didn’t already know. Esme liked her hobbies, so you chose a book on flower-pressing for her. Smiling, you pretended not to look as Alice picked up the book you’d wanted for ages. You paid for all your books, and you all but staggered out of the shop carrying them all in tote bags full to bursting, making you really wish you’d got them last.

By this time, it was around noon. The next shop you hit was a homeware store, to pick up some new decorations for the Christmas tree and a gingerbread house kit. Even though you couldn’t actually eat it, they were so fun to make. Carlisle could always bring it as a treat for the other workers at the hospital. Sighing, you thought about the long-ago times when you could’ve eaten it. But now was not the time for reflection. You finished quickly there, sporting tinsel feather boas for some extra festive pizzazz. Stopping at LUSH, you bought yourself a bath bomb, along with some other goodies for the girls. More shops, more gifts. It was never-ending in the best way possible.

By 6 o’clock, you had well and truly shopped until you dropped. The car ride back was another karaoke bonanza, featuring Rosalie’s incredible version of All I Want for Christmas is You. You had found that Rosalie had taken a lot of thawing, but once you knew her, she really was a lovely person to be around. Same with Alice, but she was as bubbly as a bath. She had already declared you firm friends on the first day you met. It was times like Christmas when you were really grateful for the Cullens and the warm welcome they had extended to you; having nobody to spend Christmas with was miserable.

Back at the house, the fun continued with a screening of Elf, everyone in the matching pyjamas Alice had somehow managed to sneak into the shopping basket at one point, totally unbeknownst to you. The faces Edward made when he was presented with them were absolutely priceless. It had been a fun day. Maybe you’d let Alice take you shopping again soon. Not too soon, though!

…

That oh-so-familiar thworp of the TARDIS told you that you had arrived. Christmas 1843. The Doctor had chosen it after your previous adventure in the year 5487 - you wouldn’t be going back there in a hurry. He wanted something a bit… calmer for once. Not that he didn't love adventure, of course.

‘Okay, Y/N. It’s the 20th December 1843. Now tell me, what is special about this day?’ he quizzed you.

‘It’s… the day after A Christmas Carol was published!’ you loved that book a lot, and you knew that the Doctor did too. Where he was planning to take you, you couldn’t guess, but you were glad he’d chosen this date for your next little adventure.

‘And change out of those clothes please, you’ll show me up.’ he added with a sarky look in your direction. You rolled your eyes, but made your way to the huge wardrobe in the TARDIS to oblige. He held back a laugh as you left, and hearing this, you couldn’t help but smile. You never knew what you might find in there, it truly was an amalgamation of every type of clothing you could possibly imagine… mini-dresses, togas, suits and ties, and that one really weird fashion trend from the 7140s where everyone wore Scooby Doo onesies. However, you looked past all this to unearth exactly what you needed to find. You see, that was the thing about the TARDIS. She always knew just what you needed. You changed out of the clothes that had offended the Doctor so, and into these new ones. Looking in the mirror, you were pleasantly surprised. Never before had you thought it possible to look so good whilst wearing Victorian clothes. Still, everyday is a school day.

Making your way back to the main console, you found the Doctor wearing exactly the same outfit, except he had changed his jumper. You rolled your eyes, this was so typical of him! Oh well. It was always fun to play dress up with the Doctor, even if he always declined to participate. You’d get him out of that leather jacket one day if it killed you.

You’d brought yourself a scarf from the wardrobe, but decided that he was clearly more in need of it than you were. You walked up to him and carefully put the soft wool around his neck. He feigned annoyance but you could tell he was pleased that you’d been thinking about him again, something he was convinced you did far too much of. He gave you a genuine smile, which you reciprocated gladly.

On the cobbled streets of Victorian London, the snow was falling. Already there was a carpet of white on the stones, and it glowed under the light of the street lamps which lit your way. The sky was steel grey, polluted with the industrial smog of hellish factories lining the roads not far from here. Trying desperately to ignore the lingering, acrid smell of the blacksmiths next to where you had landed, you and the Doctor stepped out smartly, marvelling at every person who walked past. How little they knew of the future, that those factories that were the very lifeblood of the city would soon be nothing but a whisper sometimes talked about in history lessons.

You were confused about your destination, but the Doctor seemed to know where he was going. There was little decoration around the streets or in shop windows, but you remembered that people only started celebrating Christmas again because of A Christmas Carol, and that had only been published the day before. One shop stood out to you though; you saw it on the corner just ahead. It was decked out, even by modern standards. Golden and scarlet ribbons hung on every surface, and there was even a tree outside. Candles lit up the windows, revealing the large number of customers inside. The Doctor gave you a knowing look, and then you realised. That was your destination.

Inside the shop, there were what felt like thousands of people milling about everywhere, books in hand. Even though the shop was actually quite large, there was hardly room to breathe. However, no history lesson could have prepared you for what, or rather who, you were about to see. Coming into the main area of the shop, you saw Charles Dickens, sat at a table, talking to a lady in the most fabulous hat you’d ever seen. You felt your jaw drop in shock, whilst the Doctor just looked at you, laughing to himself. You turned to him and smiled. He was so clever, and he very well knew it.

He made his way to the front of the queue, much to the chagrin of everyone else, and proudly introduced you to Dickens. Apparently, Dickens and the Doctor were “very dear friends”! Well, trust him to hide a secret like that from you. A book had somehow found its way into your hands, and you gave it to Dickens to sign. He wrote this message inside it:

Dear Y/N,

Any friend of the Doctor is a friend of mine! I do hope you enjoy my little book.

Charles Dickens, Christmas 1843

You couldn’t believe it. A first edition of A Christmas Carol, signed by Charles Dickens? Now that was something you’d treasure forever.

Outside the bookshop, it has just started to snow. As the delicate flakes flew down from the sky, the Doctor offered you his arm, and you slowly wound your way down the cobbled street, amazed at all that was happening around you. You had a tremendous sense of foreboding, feeling satisfied that these people would very soon be rediscovering the joy of Christmas, and you were so glad to be able to share it with the Doctor.

This would be an adventure you wouldn’t forget any time soon.

…