#fandomlessadventchallenge2025

The December wind blew across the rooftop where you sat. You were supposed to be at a party, one that was taking place three floors below. It was something you had been pressured to go to by friends, so of course you couldn’t say no. It was the season for giving, and you could give some of your time to them.

What they hadn’t told you is that half of Blüdhaven was there. Everyone was bumping into each other, drinks spilled making the floor a sticky yet wet mess, body odor wafted from a group of guys in the corner. It was awful to you. When you were told it was a holiday party you were expecting itchy sweaters and eggnog, definitely not a keg and way too much making out. 

So that’s how you found yourself on the roof staring out into Blüdhaven. You shivered into your coat, taking a deep breath of frigid air. You didn’t have to stay in the crammed apartment, but you had to be there. If you went to a party with someone, it meant that you left with them, especially in Blüdhaven. Besides it was good for your lungs, you thought as you pulled out a box of cigarettes. You were just about to light it when you heard a voice behind you. 

“You know those will kill you, right?” The overly cheerful voice said.

You turned around and were greeted with the smiling face of the Nightwing. You rubbed your eyes, sure you’d spent too much time at that party. When he was still there you let out a bit of dry laughter. In all the time you had spent in Blüdhaven, you hadn’t seen a glimpse of a vigilante, much less talked with one. 

“What? Is something funny?” Nightwing quipped.

“No no, just not everyday you meet Blüdhaven’s sweetheart.” You fired back. 

“Me? Never!” He said defensively.

“Please, you’re on the cover of every magazine!”

“Well, I am charming.”

You laughed again. This couldn’t be happening. You had escaped a party and now were talking to the vigilante you had a fascination with. Still, the raven-haired man stood in all his glory, the wind styling his hair, perfectly framing around his mask. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t into him. You shook the thought away.

“You scare me on a roof and decide to call yourself charming?” 

Nightwing mocked offense. “I would never do such a thing, and if I did I would owe a strong apology!”

“Better start apologizing.” You grinned.

“Come on, we got to go! Kristen is wasted and wants to go home!” Your friend yelled.

You whipped around startled by the sudden sound of her voice.

"Who were you talking to?" She questioned drunkenly.

You looked back to where Nightwing had been standing, finding only an empty roof and a simple note. You walked over, picked it up, and skimmed it quickly.

You look up and blink profusively, trying to steady your vision despite the blaring incandescent lights. Everything may be blurry, but the brown shaggy hair that settles on the wrinkly brown carhartt jacket is not. You gasp, “Sammy!” You wrap your arms around your lanky boyfriend’s shoulders, immediately pushing your body into his.

“We really gotta find you some scissors—and you really need to stop drinking all this eggnog.”

You whine, “But it’s so yummy! And it’s so spicy! And—” You’re abruptly cut off with an earth-shattering hiccup.

Sam smiles, and it takes everything in you not to stick your finger into his dimple. “I know, honey—any reason why you’re poking my face?”

You shush your boyfriend quickly, “Shhh, lemme finger your dimple.” You continue to mush his cheeks, cooing as his smile brightens.

“Ew, don’t say it like that.”

“Why—” hic “Aren’t you drinking with me? Take a sippy, baby,” you pout and hold out a cup that sat on the counter next to you. Sam winces when the eggnog nearly sloshes over the random cup’s rim.

Sam takes the cup and sets it behind him. You’re unaware where it went because you closed your eyes and started cheering through a slur when he took it.

“I gotta take you home, sweetheart,” Sam pushes a few sticky hairs from your forehead. He grins so hard it makes his cheeks hurt when he sees your eyes tracking his finger.

Your tone is soft when you speak, “Our home?” Sam hums affirmatively, and you puff with glee. “That’s so cool!”

Sam’s second hum seemingly bores you because your head trails elsewhere, and the grip you have on Sam’s biceps starts to loosen.

You twist your lips, “I wanna Purple Nurple—do y’think there’s any? Do y’think Trace will make me one?”

You go to turn away but Sam quickly grabs you by your belt loops. “Nope—absolutely not, you’re not going anywhere but the car.

Sam tries not to show his amusement at your whining, but it’s not as successful as he wants it to be.

“But I—” hic “Dance w’me?” You look up at Sam so sweetly, and he knows he screwed the longer he looks into your doe-eyes.

“We can dance at home, honey,” Sam murmurs, letting his hands go from holding your waist and up to your cheeks. “It’s not yucky at home.”

You squint at the brunette, “You’re yucky.” You go limp in Sam’s arms, burying your face into his chest.

Sam huffs through a laugh, “I know, ‘m so yucky.”

You sigh, “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, c’mon honey. Hold onto me.”

Sam walks drags you to the car and helps you settle into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and lowers your seat back as you squeeze at his cheeks.

“You’re so pretty, Sammy!” Your giggle turns into a squeal when Sam tickles your side with his index finger.

“Watch your fingers, angel,” he soothes before shutting the car door as softly as he was able.

You shut your eyes tightly as the street lights somehow glow brighter than ever before through the windshield.

Sam enters the car and winces when he accidentally slams the door shut, as do you. He whispers sweet-nothings to you in return.

He turns on the radio but the song remains faint. Sam takes it upon himself to roll your window down slightly. The sound of the wind blowing against the now-moving car is almost louder than whatever the station decided to play tonight.

You fiddle with the end of your shirt, rolling the cotton between the pads of your fingers as you sink further into the seat. You can feel Sam’s warm hand on your thigh; it’s warm, but not in a way that makes you feel sweaty and hot—in a way that makes you feel safe, seen, and loved.

You can smell his cologne as it swirls around you like a divine mist of heaven.

Sammy smells so good.

Like the pine trees in the woods on a sorta rainy day, if the woods weren’t so scary.

You just want to sniff the trees—

“Honey, you cant touch my chest like that, ‘m driving,” Sam mutters fondly.

You peak your eyes open at him when his hand that was on your thigh goes up to the one you laid on his chest. He takes it and holds it firmly, before plopping your conjoined hands back on your thigh.

“Jus’ wanna—touch the grass,” you murmur, turning your head towards the window.

Sam gives you a double take before shaking his head in disbelief and shifting his attention to the road’s lines.

You blink, and once you open your eyes, you’re met with Sam unbuckling your seatbelt. You squint through the windshield and you see the towering apartment building that you love so, so much.

Woah, that was a superrr long blink, wasn’t it?

You can’t help but whine as Sam gathers you into his arms; he murmurs soft apologies once he realizes that he’s jostled you.

You try to wrap your arms around his neck, but they’re too tingly and noodle-y for you to even lift them halfway.

Getting into the building with both you and your purse in Sam’s arms proves to be a bit of a challenge.

But you both know it’s nothing.

“Mmn, you’re so strong, Sammy,” you sigh wistfully.

“Thank you, angel. Go t’sleep now, okay?”

You hum and let your eyes shut, finding solace in Sam’s careful movement.

You’re so sleepy, but there’s only one thought that crosses your mind.

Or more specifically, a question.

You whisper, “Sammy?”

“Yeah?” Sam’s tone is just as soft, if not more.

“Be my valentine?”

There’s a beat of silence, but you don’t really catch it.

“It’s almost Christmas.”

“Oh,” You mumble.”Will you be my Christmas-tine?”

Sam can’t help but chuckle. “Of course, angel. Get some sleep, please.”

Little does he know, you fell asleep as soon as he laughed—the vibrations from his chest comforting you immediately.

"Haha yeah, I nearly slid coming in! I almost didn't leave my car," I joked, turning to the coffee machine as it chimes, a nice hot mocha waiting for me. I slide over to grab 2 French vanilla packets and pour them in, stirring the mixture with the little sticks provided. The hot coffee warms my chest as I take a careful sip, trying to not burn my tongue. "Ahhh, much better" I sigh, winter-bitten cheeks starting to warm up, fingers thawing. Connor nods in agreement, "You need to be careful; it is easy to get frostbite in these conditions," Connor reminds me, "The human body can develop frostbite in just 5 minutes if the weather is cold enough." He informs me, looking me over for any signs of injury or risk.

I shiver at the thought, "I will be, I've never really liked the cold. It's nice to look at from the window, but to be in it? Not my cup of tea" I shake my head and take another sip, willing the coffee to warm my cold digits and give a much-needed caffeine boost. I peer over at the bulletin board and raise an eyebrow at a new addition, "What's that?" I ask, starting my way over to the corkboard. Posted with a red pushpin is a handmade note

CHRISTMAS PARTY!! Hey office crew! I'm hosting a Christmas party at my place!! 917 Laper Street at 7 PM tomorrow night! No costume needed, BOA!!

-Chen

I tilt my head as I read it over again. I pull my phone out of my pocket and tap the address into my phone. "Huh, only 10 minutes from my house," I mumble, glancing at the address to make sure it's correct. "Do you plan to go?" Connor asks, peering at the note over my shoulder. I jump a little from how close he is; he's so quiet that it's easy to not realize he's there until he is right up on you. His LED lightly casts a blue light on my cheek from how close he is. I could go, I haven't attended any parties yet, and it could be a chance to get to know my new officemates. While being a crime scene photographer doesn't put me in the line of action, I do still have a spot in the back of the building with my 2 coworkers.

I grin a little and nod, "Yeah, I think I might. It would be a good chance to get to know people, you know?" I glance at him to find him already watching me, that slight smile still there. "Of course Y/n. If you plan to attend then I will as well, that way you'll have someone you know there." he bumps my shoulder lightly, and his smile widens a little, beginning to show a little teeth.

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Tugging down my shirt and pulling my soft grey beanie over my head, I glance in the mirror. I don't look bad to be honest —maybe not a fashionista, but not bad. I fix a few stray hairs and take a deep breath; nerves always come rushing in on the day of the event It'll be fine I snatch my keys from their spot by the door and exit my small apartment, the stale air of the hallway greeting me.

Bzzt Bzzt

Pulling my phone from my pocket as I head to the building's elevator, I see a new text from Connor

The note said to bring your own alcohol. Is there a specific kind you prefer?

I smile at the words, Connor can't consume human food and drink, but he's been doing this lately, bringing me things or buying me small things to get me through my days. I don't really have a preference, at least nothing that isn't mixed. I click the elevator's button and begin to type him back

Not really, anything fruity is a good go to, especially strawberry flavors, like a strawberry daiquiri! You don't have to do that tho 😂

I almost jump as the elevator dings, stepping in I tap the ground floor and sway lightly as the elevator jolts and begins to descend. The doors open and I feel a slight dread begin to pull my stomach as I spy the flurries still pouring outside. This again.. Stepping out into the cold is like ice water, the moment the door opens, the wind nips my cheeks and threatens my eyes to water. I trudge through the crunching snow to my beater. SLAM I sigh in relief and rub my hands together, 20 feet is a lot in this weather. I turn the ignition on and let the car begin to warm up, checking my phone for any new texts. 2 notifications are waiting for me

I enjoy this, don't worry. I'll see what I can find 😊

Found it, heading to Officer Chen's address now, I'll meet you there

I laugh softly and shake my head, some water from melted snowflakes drips off my hair and plops into my lap. I leave him a thumbs-up and turn my music up a little; 'crushcrushcrush' by Paramore is playing, and I begin to sing along softly as I pull out of the parking lot, Tina's address in my GPS.

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I pull up to the house, Christmas lights are hung, and an inflated snowman sits in the front yard next to two lit-up reindeer who move their heads up and down. Theres are a few cars in the driveway and 1 on the street, Hank's car. Hank is a good guy; he can be cranky, but who isn't in this age? The winds died down a bit, small snowflakes twinkle down and catch on my jacket. I climb the three steps and knock on the door. A green wreath with red bulbs and golden ribbon hangs in front of me. Tina's gone all out it seems.

The door swings open to a tipsy Gavin Reed "Y/N!! Didn't think you'd show up...come in come in!" He stumbles slightly to the side to make room for me. I can smell some kind of whiskey on his breath as I step in, removing my shoes and placing them on the side mat next to everyone else's. "Thanks, and yeah, I figured it'd be good to meet everyone and introduce myself," I tell him, rubbing the back of my neck.

Inside is decorated as well; a Christmas tree sits in the corner next to a small fireplace, multicolored bulbs decorate the tree, silver tinsel and various ornaments and bulbs hanging off its branches. Snowflake garland hangs around the ceiling along with white Christmas lights. Theres some brightly wrapped presents under the tree, likely for Chen's family, marked with various colored bows and labeled.

"Y/n, you made it safely." Connor comes up, taking my jacket off and hanging it up for me. "oh thanks" I grin and nod "Yeah, I had to drive slow, so it took a little longer than intended. Here in one piece though!" I gesture down to myself, and he chuckles. He places a hand on my lower back and gestures towards the party, leading us away from Gavin who's closing the door and raising an eyebrow at us, a soft glare aimed at Connor. I blush lightly at the contact This is new, he's never done this before

There are a few familiar faces, Tina Chen is next to Robert Lewis on the couch; they're animatedly chatting about something while holding two glasses of what looks like vodka or Sprite. Mike is next to them watching the TV above the fireplace, and I can hear Ben and Hank bickering in the kitchen, something about Hank's alcohol intake. Connor leads us into the kitchen and picks my Strawberry Daiquiri from the fridge and hands it to me, it's enough for a glass and a half, perfect. "Thank you Connor! I really appreciate it" I tell him, a warm smile spreading on my reddened cheeks. He pops the top off for me and nods, "Of course, it's best to be comfortable and know when you're drinking, especially in social situations" He reasons.

I take a slow sip, the soft burn of alcohol meets my tongue before the strawberry taste overpowers it. I hum in content, it's been a hot minute since I've had one but it never changes. "It's perfect" I whisper, mostly to myself. We go to exit the kitchen when suddenly the living room erupts with "Oooooo!!!" and a slightly startled Tina, who was making her way back to the couch, turns around to look at us, looks up, and then laughs, almost doubling over.

"I JUST hung that up," She laughs, pointing above our heads. Connor and I look up in sync, where two little green branches with red berries are dangling, still swaying from being placed there. I gasp in surprise and feel my face flush hot red, slowly looking back to Connor whose yellow LED is cycling yellow. "A mistletoe?" He asks, looking back at me and noticing how flushed I am. "What's wrong Y/n?" He asks, his eyes flickering over my face, I can tell he's analysing and searching for a reason for my sudden reaction.

"It's uhm...It's a Christmas tradition," I mumble, stealing another glance at the mistletoe above us. "Aw hell, what'd you do?" Hank asks as he comes to see what the commotion is about. "Mistletoe," I tell him and turn back to Connor, "It's tradition that any who are caught under it are supposed to kiss, you don't ha-" I'm cut off before I can finish, soft lips meeting mine. Fingers are on my chin, tilting my head to angle us better. The living room falls silent, not that I'd know since all I can hear is my own heartbeat in my ears and the soft cht sound as our lips separate. Connor smiles widely at me, his gaze flickering down to my lips before meeting my eyes again "Did I do it right?" He asks cheekily.

The living room erupts in cheers and laughs, at the situation or my face is hard to tell, all I can focus on is Connor's dazzling smile and the taste of him on my lips.

Despite the fact it wasn't officially winter yet, the way that the freezing air nipped at your skin made you feel otherwise as you draw the scarf wrapped around your neck tighter to stave off the chill creeping into your bones.

You briefly thought about just going home where you knew it was warm and comfy but you'd put this off for too long now and if you continued to procrastinate it, you'd probably never work up the nerve again.

Besides you owed it to her to finally visit, you couldn't even remember when the last time was that you had seen her.

Standing at the threshold of the cemetery gates, you briefly look around to see if Spencer was anywhere in sight, you'd confided to him about what had been bothering you lately when he'd noticed just how distracted you'd seemed.

He'd promised you that the next time you came here, you'd have him at your side as emotional support and an accountability partner.

Only it was now noon and he still wasn't here yet.

You tried to tell yourself it was probably because of how packed the metros are lately with the lingering frenzy of Black Friday and the oncoming chaos of Christmas as to why he was running late.

You have to hold in a sigh at the thought because of how much it annoyed you, people nowadays only really cared about getting their wishlists all filled up and getting everything prepared in time for obligatory Christmas get-togethers that only happened because it was 'tradition'.

It wasn't because they actually cared about eachother enough to want to spend it together, you knew that first hand since a little while back, your aunt had called you out of the blue to invite you to a holiday party she was getting together with all of your closest and far-flung relatives.

Most of whom you didn't actually know and the fact that this was the first time all year your aunt had bothered to reach out was just the cherry on top of the pretentious cordiality the offer reeked of.

That was actually what spurred you to come here, you'd been wrestling with the offer needlessly to the point where you could barely concentrate on anything and when Spencer pointed it out to you, you knew you needed to come to a decision soon, not only because of how trivial it was.

Your aunt was getting impatient, mainly because she wanted a proper head count before she started buying everything she needed and hadn't even bothered to ask you what was wrong or why you hesitated to begin with, only sighed when you asked for more time to consider it and had told you to let her know as soon as possible.

You look down at the artificial poinsettia in your hand you'd bought earlier to bring here for your visit and do one final sweep near the entrance before deciding to just bite the bullet and go in anyway.

Navigating around all the fallen leaves covering the frost dusted grass beneath your shoes, you feel thankful to your earlier self for not choosing those new boots to wear you still haven't broken in yet.

Keeping your coat firmly tucked around your form, you head in through the gateway and start to make your way past the miles of endless fields and tombstones surrounding you on either side.

The wind wips at your hair a little and you tuck it behind your ear on reflex as you silently locate the center of the field with the big oak tree in the middle, and keep walking towards it by muscle memory.

You scan the numerous memorial plates and epitaphs that line the row you've entered before finally coming to a stop at a small metal footstone in the ground with your grandmother's initials printed on them.

Instinctively you cross your arms around yourself as a form of protection while the memories that the familiar name inspires conjures images in your head you haven't allowed yourself to reminisce on for the past two years.

Chinoiserie prints, the smell of homemade mac and cheese, porcelain chinaware and little figurines in glass cases, the sound of her voice gently lulling you to sleep with You Are My Sunshine as she rubbed your back.

It made a dull ache in your heart begin to start right behind your ribs, with the waves of nostalgia and bittersweet memory that was woven through them.

Just as you're about to let it pull you away, you pause as you swear you hear your name being called.

Your head lifts up from it's bowed position on instinct and out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of a purple scarf and windswept hair and it feels as if the unsteady ground beneath your feet stabilizes.

Relief washes through you in an instant and as Spencer finally manages to make it to your side, you turn to face him and unconsciously lean into his comforting presence.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! It took a little longer than usual to get here since there were so many stops that had to be made and I really didn't want you to think that I abandoned you but I kept looking at my watch and-"

You cut him off prematurely as you place your hand on his shoulder to soothe him. "Spencer, it's okay, I know you never would do something like that."

His expression softens as he looks at you and he takes the moment to catch his breath before gently placing his palm over your hand in solidarity.

"I was afraid that you were gonna leave before I got here." He admits in a quieter tone of voice, as if he knew better than to disturb the air around you.

Your eyes lower to the ground as you purse your lips before answering. "I couldn't...I did think about it but I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself." Your gaze flickers back up to his with a hint of gratefulness. "I'm really glad you could make it here though."

His lips curl up into a tender yet bashful smile. "Of course I did, you know I'm always here for you if you need me."

You squeeze his hand affectionately in a silent show of gratitude before you turn back to the footstone by your feet with a bit more steadiness now.

Spencer also turns toward it in a show of respect and gazes upon it with open curiosity. "You know I don't recall you ever talking about her much."

Your throat closes up slightly at the observation and your gaze drifts contemplatively. "I know and it's not because I don't want to, it's because, I guess I don't really know how to."

What was there to say really? She was one of the people that helped to raise you into who you are now aside from your mom, and yet having to reduce her just to a pile of memories seemed wrong.

"There are so many things about her that shaped me and yet I can barely put it into words whenever anyone asks about her." You start to speak into the space between you as words you've held back for so long finally bubble out.

"It's not that I haven't tried before but everytime, it never feels like it's enough, you know there are just so many pieces I have of her that's still in me and that I carry everywhere I go and yet it's nowhere near enough to credit her for all she did, all that she was."

Spencer remains silent yet ever present beside you but through the way he leans against your side you know he's hanging onto every word, so you continue.

"You know when she passed away, it wasn't sadness exactly that I ended up feeling, it was more so like this quiet yet pervasive kind of ache, kind of like a phantom pain when you end up losing a part that used to be so vital to what made you up but it's gone now and yet if you concentrate enough it's like you can still feel it there."

You hold onto the stem of the poinsettia in your grasp like a lifeline, or like it was some kind of tether that still linked you to your grandmother that she could also hold.

"That first Christmas after she passed away, there was just so much happening and it felt like everything had completely shifted, so mom and I decided not to celebrate last year because it just didn't feel right."

"Beforehand, whenever Christmas ended up rolling around she would always go all out and make it such a big event, in our garage we had so many boxes that were full of tree ornaments and collectible Christmas villages that she would set up and decorate herself."

Your eyes go a bit misty as you recall the vision and for a moment you can see behind your lids, the multicolored lights of the tree with a vibrant glowing star on top that was so many foots higher than you that not even standing up on your tiptoes would help cover the distance.

"She was so talented at it too, mom used to joke all the time that she should've gotten a job as one of those professional tree decorators that do all the department store ones each year with the red bows and doves."

You try and focus on the vase at the head of her nameplate in the ground without devolving into a long spiel, but something in you kept pushing it up and out of your throat.

"I remember that I always used to sit on the floor because she had bought me this handcrafted storyteller house that whenever you pressed a button on it, it would start reciting Twas The Night Before Christmas while the different rooms and images shifted in time with the story, from the father in his old cap and slippers and then Santa with the reindeer at the top of the chimney and glittery snow."

A warm pulse spreads from your heart to your fingers as millions of moments you'd stored and kept in a collection in your mind played out before you.

"I used to play it over and over so many times it's a wonder it didn't break, I actually still have it to this day and it still works, in fact I still have a lot of her old Christmas villages still..." Your voice trails off as you think about the heirlooms she passed down to you gathering dust in boxes and storage containers and the twinge of guilt that comes with it.

"I know how much it meant to her, how much it meant to me about how she always tried her hardest to make every Christmas as memorable as it could be, but ever since she passed away, it just hasn't felt the same anymore." You admit with a hint of reservation.

Spencer tilts his head in sympathy. "Well, that's perfectly normal, nobody ever does when they grow up, least of all when they lose someone close to them."

You nod on reflex. "Yeah, I know that but it's not just because I'm older now, the people around me nowadays, the ones that I see running around trying to get last minute gifts and cards and rushing to usher in the next big holiday before the last one has even ended yet just don't really get the point."

You shake your head in frustration. "I don't want to sound preachy or anything but if Christmas is really about family and joy then why is everyone's first instinct to pull out a credit card and then just call it a day?"

"I don't wanna go to my aunt's gathering Spencer, I don't wanna sit in her big house at her table and be forced to make small talk with a bunch of strangers I've either haven't met or seen in years, and I don't wanna pretend for a day that all of a sudden everything is magically forgiven or that she hasn't bothered to reach out since the funeral and the only reason why she bothered this year and the last is cause she feels guilty!" You rant bitterly before slowing down with a weary sigh.

You take a moment just to breathe before looking up at him apologetically. "But I hate how I feel like I'm somehow betraying my grandmother's memory though, as if by not going that somehow it makes me guilty of not being grateful enough for what I do have, if I don't choose to celebrate like she used to with me."

Spencer gazes at you steadfastly and squeezes your free hand gently. "I didn't know your grandmother but from what you've told me about her and how much she loved you, I think it'd be fair to say that she'd want you to be happy most of all, and if choosing not to celebrate or decorate this year, is that, then that's what matters most."

You smile softly for the first time all afternoon and contemplatively gaze down at the red leaves of the flower still in your grasp. "She absolutely adored red poinsettias, every season when this time of year came around she would always find a way to include them in the decorations or the tree somehow."

He looks down at it with a gleam in his eye. "Poinsettias became associated with Christmas through this legend originating in Mexico, where this poor young girl named Pepita gifted a bouquet of weeds to Jesus Christ and they bloomed into red flowers, they've become known as a symbol of faith and generosity since, which is probably why they're seen in conjunction with a lot of common Christmas traditions."

You nod attentively and hesitate a moment before leaning down to switch out the blue rose in order to replace it with the bright poinsettia in the vase.

"I just hope she knows it's not because of her, wherever she is now and understands why..." You breathe out softly as you recall your grandmother's voice clear as day.

"I'm sure she does and if it's not overstepping, I think she'd be very proud of you for doing this for yourself." He says sincerely.

Spencer says those words with such earnestness and it suddenly feels like the tension you'd been holding in all evening just deflates and with a soft sigh, you take one final look at your grandmother's initials fondly.

"I think she is too..."

This was inspired by the @fandomless-advent-challenge.

It was easy to hate her just because of those reasons, but she was outgoing and so nice it made him roll his eyes. The few interactions they had gave him a headache.

---

The meeting held just before students returned was usually a time to dabble and relax. But this time for Severus only started what became weeks of stressing.

"It is a new time, and Hogwarts is becoming more diverse, so I thought it'd be fun to introduce some new holiday traditions," Dumbledore started and looked to Louise, "take it away."

She smiled wide and stepped in front of the podium, stepping on the tallest step to be above it. "As you all know, I am from the states, and I thought I'd share a lovely tradition with you all: Secret Santa."

"What Secret Santa is, is you put all the names of your group in a hat or something to mix them up. After they are thoroughly mixed, you pick a paper out of the container and that is the person you are acting as Santa for. But the catch is, you cannot tell them that you are their Santa. Also don't tell anyone who you have."

A majority of the staff was smiling and seemed to be on board with the idea. Severus did not mind it, like the others, he wrote his name on a piece of parchment and placed it in the hat.

After a vast feast, everyone was ready for full and ready for the night to end. Louise stepped up to the podium again, "now, we pick a piece of paper out of the hat. Remember, don't tell the person you got or anyone else who you are Secret Santa for. Good luck gift giving!"

The hat passed all the seats of the table, Louise mixed the names around to finally pick her piece of parchment. Her lips pursed and she leaned back in her seat, staring at the name, thinking deeply.

After a few minutes, the hat stopped in front of Severus, he just snatched the parchment sitting on the top. He carefully unfolded it, her name—her name—appeared in a mix of print and cursive 'Louise.'

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, this was going to be an interesting holiday.

-------Louise's pov (sorta)

Louise had no idea what to get for Severus, they'd only had a few conversations and the ones they did he never shared more than she already knew about him

She went over the things she'd observed: he liked potions, books on complicated things, potion ingredients, black clothing, and terrorizing students.

The only person she knew he actually tolerated was Minerva, and Dumbledore, but he was a busy man. So, after classes ended Louise cornered Minerva and invited her to tea.

"So.. um.. If you were.. Severus, what would you want for Christmas?" Louise asked Minerva, the older witch raised an eyebrow.

"Did you get Severus for this 'Secret Santa' game?" She inquired.

To that question Louise blushed and tried to defend herself, "no, I didn't get Severus just.. uh asking for a friend."

The witch smirked, "Well he likes.. Earl Gray tea.. potions ingredients, books on potions.. He's also told me he likes wine, not whiskey or drinks of that category. Quills and parchment are just practical items that you could get him."

Louise nodded and reassured Minerva, "I don't actually have him, this is for a friend."

Minerva nodded with a smirk, "Well, I do think he will like the gift he gets."

---(Severus' pov)

Not that Severus would often get good sleep, but tonight his mind just wouldn't slow down. He didn't know much about Louise, just where she was from, and her mannerisms, and how much she sugared her tea—what colors she liked to wear, how she taught, her portion sizes, and the foods she didn't like. But he didn't know what to get her.

He wished the paper came with a list, he did good with following lists—unless they were wrong of course—but those aren't hard to follow.

Louise was friendly with almost anyone, but Severus wasn't much more than acquaintances with most of the staff. So he went to the one person he could think of—Minerva.

"Minerva, um, you know Louise, yes?" He turned his head towards hers as they walked during their routes to make sure children were in bed.

"Who doesn't? What about her?" The witch side-eyed him, a glimmer in her eye hoping he got her for Secret Santa as she did.

Severus let out a sigh, "if you had to give her a gift, what would you buy for her?"

Minerva thought for a moment, "I don't speak to her deeply often, but I know she likes the chocolate truffles the color green, scarfs, silver jewelry, and you know she loves historical books."

He nodded, mentally listing those things in his mind, "yes thank you—I'm asking for a friend—I don't have her in this 'Secret Santa' game."

Holding back a wide smile, Minerva nodded and hoped Severus didn't see her reaction.

---(Lousie's pov)

Picking up a basket, she gazed around the store, looking for where to start. Teas? Wine? Books?

You couldn't go wrong with a bottle of Cabernet, right? Wines were an easy thing to buy for someone most of the time, books and teas was where it got tricky. Did Severus have any allergies? Preferences?

Minerva said he liked Earl Gray, so she picked the brand she usually bought her tea from and headed to the book section. From the peeks she got into his classroom, every shelf was crammed to the brim with books.

It took her an hour to finally pick the books she wanted to get for him. Louise didn't want to get him a copy of something he already owned. So what she ended up with was a 4-book series on different continents and the plants, herbs, vegetables that grew there.

Next she had to gauge how big of a gift bag she needed, she had many fun wrapping and bows at home so that was all she needed to worry about.

This was the day she found out how hard it was to shop for Severus, and men in general. Normally, she would just pick a Christmas themed back and go. But Severus did not seem like the girly type or something who was jolly.

Just as she bent down to pick up a dark green gift wrapping bag, she bumped into somebody. The person cursed under their breath.

"Oh- I'm so clumsy please let me help-" Louise stammered and helped the person collect their items.

She picked up a chunky green scarf, a book collection about the magical colonization of America, and some nice silver earrings.

Everything a girl like her would fancy, she looked up.

Severus, he was right in front of her.

"So sorry, again," she stood up and tried to compose herself.

He blinked and pulled his eyes away from her basket and replied, "yes, as am I."

He walked away and she tried to shake the feelings of the altercation.

Despite the tiny crush she did have on him, she just hoped he hadn't guessed his secret santa was her.

---(Severus' pov)

Severus didn't hate gift giving but stepping out of his comfort zone like this made him very on edge.

The list Minerva gave him proved to be very help full thankfully. He'd picked out a few earring selections, they were a pretty penny, but he assumed all women's jewelry was.

From the outfits he observed, Louise liked chunky wool items. So he picked a dark green chunky scarf, and a nice wool trench coat, but he only had so much arm space, so he decided to come back for it before he headed to the check out.

Severus knew of Louise's love to read, and he figured she liked history since she taught the subject very well. So he picked up the boxed collection, 'How America was Colonized, And How Wizardry Affected It.'

The items he collected so far seemed like a good collection, so he headed to the gift bag and wrapping aisle. The options of bags and tissue paper were overwhelming so he just picked a green gift back.

His fingers grasped it until he felt someone bump into him. Severus' mind knew who it was before his eyes did, the smell of her perfume clouded his senses and he watched as she stammered talking and to collect his things.

"Oh- I'm so clumsy please let me help-" She said, it was then he realized he probably should snap out of it and help. He was still a bit dizzy from the interaction so he could only mutter a few curses under his breath.

He didn't particularly want her to find out he was her 'Secret Santa' even if he thought the game was stupid.

She looked up at him, sending his heart thumping and spoke, ""so sorry, again."

He swallowed, blinked the expression off and tried to sound composed, "Yes, as am I."

Severus walked away quickly, snatching the trench coat off the rack and headed to the register.

He did not get much sleep that night.

---

At last, it was the night of the faculty party, and when the Secret Santas would be revealed and the gifts exchanged.

Severus tried to look a bit more presentable, though he felt pathetic while doing so. Louise, as usual lately, stood out and looked effortlessly stunning.

Dinner was served first, three courses and an optional dessert. Severus did not indulge, he was already very nervous. He bid his time and glanced a few seats down at Louise, she was enjoying some apple pie with whipped cream.

A little of the whip cream was smeared on her top lip, he stared at her lips for a few seconds before clenching his jaw and looking away.

He hated, but loved, how she made him feel. Severus had to remind himself that this 'relationship' was one sided, and she didn't have feelings for him. Especially after how he had treated her.

After an agonizingly long meal and chatter, it was finally time to exchange the gifts. There was no reason or rhyme of how to do it. Louise just got on the speaker and told everyone to start gift giving.

Severus expected Louise to give the gift to her person so he waited until she was done to give it to her. But that moment never came because she scanned the crowd and once she laid eyes on him, Louise started walking towards him.

He swallowed and looked away, not liking that he was caught staring at her.

"Hello Severus- May I call you that?" She smiled, and handed him his gift, "Happy Christmas."

He stared at the well wrapped gift and replied, "yes, thank you for this gift."

She nodded and waited for him to open it.

Out of the awkwardness, he gave Louise her gift. He was surprisingly good at wrapping, only had to read a few instructions on a book he found in the library.

Her head tilted as her eyes softened, "thank you so much."

Severus blinked and merely replied, "sorry for the odd shape, I wasn't sure how to arrange such items."

She took her head, " no, no, thank you so much."

The two sat in silence as they took in the consideration of each gift, how the other person knew just what to get was unbeknownst to them.

Severus chuckled as he looked at the wine he'd received, "who told you about my love for wine?"

Louise's face lit up at his happiness, "a friend of a friend, who told you about my love for reading?"

He sat up straight and rearranged the item how they first were, "um.. a friend of a friend."

How he quoted her made her laugh and her nose scrunch.

"Truly thank you Severus, these are very thoughtful gifts."

That comment made his heart beam, "you are welcome, as are your gifts."

---

The 'Secret Santa' Severus once viewed as stupid blossomed into something he was forever grateful for.

It was six months into their relationship now, it was mostly something they were trying to be discreet about, but Severus discovered that was not something that came easily to him.

"Severus." Lousie called from his bathroom.

He got up from his reading chair immediately and followed her voice, "yes love?"

"You spent sixty quid on these earrings?" She asked, looking surprised at the price tag.

Severus tilted his head, "yes, is that not the normal price?"

Louise exhaled and almost laughed, "it is for really nice earrings why didn't you just get cheap ones?"

He leaned against the door frame, "I promise I thought those were the normal price. And why are you just wearing them here now? I got them for you months ago?"

She smiled, "Well, after you took me home and we got busy, our rough housing must have knocked them out of my bag."

Severus blushed, "darling-" 

---