All I Want for Christmas, Chapter 15

Previously: Chapter 14 [AA]

A little bit of Spashley.

Rating: U. Porn-free.

* * * * *

Friday, 25 December 2009

“Any chance you could pass the mashed potato?” Glen asked, elbowing his sister in the ribs.

Spencer turned and stared at him. She was pretty sure he had spoken, but she wasn’t sure what he’d just said because she had been focusing her entire attention on trying to ignore Ashley, who was calmly eating her Christmas meal as if she wasn’t using her left hand to cause seven kinds of havoc with Spencer’s brain. Safely hidden from sight by the edge of the table cloth, Ashley’s hand was tracing patterns up the inside of Spencer’s thigh. It had caused Spencer to drop her fork twice already and it definitely meant that she did not have the presence of mind to be able to concentrate on conversation around the table at the same time. It was taking every ounce of self-control she had not to sweep all the food in front of her onto the floor and push Ashley up onto the large dining table so that they could continue where they’d left off in her bedroom right there in front of her assembled family. She let her mind drift for a moment in contemplation of what Ashley would look like, bent backwards across the table, her legs dangling off the edge, her crotch just at Spencer’s eye level.

“Hey!” she exclaimed in pain as Glen elbowed her again, harder this time.

“Pass. The. Mashed. Potato.” Her brother spoke very slowly and carefully as if English was not Spencer’s first language.

“All right, fat boy,” she hissed. Reaching the mashed potatoes meant leaning across Ashley to her right. Leaning across Ashley meant leaning in towards the brunette and invading her personal space. Invading Ashley’s personal space meant drinking in the scent that was entirely Ashley and feeling Ashley’s breath on her cheek. In other words, getting the mashed potatoes made the yearning need that was gnawing at her insides exponentially worse, especially since Ashley took the opportunity to slide her hand even further up Spencer’s thigh, almost as high as it would go. And that motion caused Spencer to give out a distressed squeak.

“You okay?” Ashley asked, her face a mask of fake concern as she ran her fingernails over the inner crease of Spencer’s jeans.

“No, it’s fine,” she muttered in response, smirking at her girlfriend. “I just didn’t want to have to spill this all over you.” She lifted the bowl of potato awkwardly and gladly retreated. Handing the bowl to her brother, she then reached under the table and firmly – albeit reluctantly – grasped Ashley’s hand and lifted it off her leg.

“Honey, why don’t you help me clear most of this away while everyone else finishes up?” her mother asked sweetly.

Spencer and Paula were both fast eaters and neither of them ate as much as Arthur or Glen anyway. It appeared as if Ashley and Chelsea were also almost finished, just toying with the final few bites on their plates. Instinctively, Glen placed a hand on the bowl of potatoes, while Arthur reached out for the turkey platter and the gravy boat. Spencer rolled her eyes at their behaviour as she stood and picked up her plate and a couple of bowls of half-finished vegetables.

“Don’t forget there’s three desserts,” Arthur mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Paula scolded fondly, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear.”

Ashley gave Spencer a significant look, one that managed to turn the phrase ‘talk with your mouth full’ into something altogether less wholesome than the meaning that her mother had been conveying. Desperate to relieve herself of the pressure of being so close to the brunette but unable to act on the needs and desires building within herself, Spencer gratefully retreated to the kitchen and placed the dishes on the centre island.

“Well, that went rather well,” her mother commented, as she started to ferry the dishes from the dining room into the kitchen.

“Mmm,” she agreed non-committally. She opened the freezer door to get the ice-cream and stood in the open doorway for a few seconds, appreciating the cold air on her face. Being close to Ashley really did make her physically hot, in all senses of the word. The cool blast was exactly what she needed.

“You didn’t enjoy it?”

Shutting her eyes for a moment and taking a deep, calming breath, she pulled the large tub of ice-cream from its shelf and closed the door again. “It was wonderful. It’s always wonderful every year. Dad’s the best cook I know.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re technically insulting me and agree with you,” her mother laughed. She busied herself with getting a series of Tupperware containers arranged onto the countertop in front of her as she started to spoon the most salvageable left-overs into the tubs. “I get the feeling that someone’s got a big secret to tell me,” Paula commented suddenly in a sing-song tone.

Spencer’s heart seized up and she watched, silent and powerless to move, as the bowl that she had been taking out of the cupboard slipped from her hands and hit the floor and shattered. It was a cliche to say that time seemed to slow to an almost stop, but it certainly felt like minutes passed between her mother’s comment and the bowl meeting the hard, Mexican tile of the floor.

“Don’t move!” her mother commanded. It was an entirely unnecessary order as Spencer was firmly rooted to the spot, stunned into inactivity. She stood perfectly still as Paula got a dustpan and hand brush to clear up the smashed bowl.

“Everything okay in there?” Arthur called out with a note of concern.

“Just Spencer being clumsy, as usual,” Paula replied. She was kneeling at Spencer’s feet, brushing up the small shards of pottery as if nothing was wrong and she couldn’t hear the sound of Spencer’s heart pounding. Surely people three streets away could hear it? The noise was certainly deafening inside Spencer’s head.

Purely on some kind of instinct, Spencer managed to retort, “Glen’s the clumsy one.”

“Sure, honey.” Paula straightened up and patted her daughter on the shoulder. “Whatever you say.” The older woman tipped the contents of the dustpan into the trash and stowed the brush and pan back under the sink. She began to wash her hands, her surgical training showing through as she scrubbed them thoroughly in what looked like a well-worn, almost subconscious routine. As she dried her hands off again, she smiled at her youngest child. “What’s up, sweetheart? You look like you’re a million miles away.”

Spencer realised that she hadn’t moved at all since the bowl had left her hands. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I just wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Well, what do you think?”

Spencer gave her mother a bewildered look. “Huh?”

Paula hung the towel she had been using back onto its normal hook and leaned against the sink. She shook her head and gave an exaggerated eye roll. “About what I said before,” she prompted.

Spencer might have told Ashley that she was perfectly content to tell her parents about their nascent relationship but, now that the opportunity had presented itself to her, it didn’t seem such a straightforward proposition as she had imagined. In less than a few seconds, her mind managed to process several potential outcomes, none of which involved her mother enveloping her in a warm hug and welcoming Ashley to the family. In fact, in one scenario she imagined, Paula’s head literally exploded, covering the kitchen with flesh and blood and…

“Spencer!”

She looked up at her mother – who blessedly still had her head attached to her shoulders – and flushed a deep red.

“What is your problem today?”

“I -” She stopped and shrugged apologetically.

“Anyway,” her mother continued pointedly, “I think Chelsea and Glen are hiding something. They’ve been acting weird all day.” Paula paused and gave Spencer a searching look. “Hold on. Do you know something about what it is? Is that why you’re being so strange, too?”

She felt her shoulders slump as the relief flooded through her. It hadn’t been about her at all. It was something to do with her stupid brother. She felt like skipping with happiness.

“I can honestly say that I know nothing about what’s going on with Glen,” she affirmed, finally forcing her body into moving freely again. She retrieved another bowl from the cupboard, this time taking extra care with it and placing it deliberately on the counter.

“Are you sure?” Paula’s tone implied that she felt her children were colluding against her.

Spencer chuckled as she walked back to the fridge and took out the Mississippi mud pie that her father had baked the previous day. “Mom, Glen and me haven’t kept secrets for each other since we’ve both been old enough not to have curfew. I swear to you that I have no idea what his big secret might be. Maybe he got fired again and he doesn’t want tell you.” Her brother hadn’t been fired from a job since he was 17, but it was Spencer’s sworn duty as his sister to never let him live it down. Her big, tough, sports-mad brother had been fired from his job as a bellboy for watching Passions instead of working. Five years later, when she had heard that the soap opera had been cancelled, she had sent him a condolence card. He hadn’t seen the funny side.

“Well, something is up and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“Get to the bottom of what?” Arthur asked as he entered the kitchen with his and Glen’s now-empty plates in his hands. “And what is taking you two so long? There’s hungry people out there starting to wonder if they’re going to see any dessert at all today.” He put the plates down and stood next to Spencer, looping his arm around her shoulders. “What did you break, by the way?”

“Dropped a bowl.”

“Oops! Butterfingers.”

Spencer giggled. Sometimes her father still spoke to her as if she were five. It always made her feel happy. At that moment, it was even more welcome than usual, providing a distraction from thinking about whether she should tell her parents about her relationship with Ashley and why, having been so adamant previously that it wasn’t a big deal, she was now starting to think of it as a very big deal indeed.

“There’s something going on with Glen and I want to know what it is,” Paula interjected, answering Arthur’s original question.

“Ahhhh.” Arthur grinned down at Spencer and rolled his eyes. Paula
was not a hands-off parent. Despite both her children being in their twenties and one of them married, she still liked to meddle. It was a constant source of amusement for Arthur and of frustration for Spencer and Glen.

“I saw that,” Paula noted sharply.

Arthur winked at his daughter. “I wasn’t hiding it,” he said. He moved away from Spencer and picked up the dessert bowls on his way back to the dining room. “Come on, you two. We need cake!”

Spencer push herself away from the counter and lifted both the ice-cream and the chocolate cake. She started to follow her father when her mother left her with a final word of caution.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, either. I swear, I will find out what’s up with everyone if it kills me.”

Spencer paused mid-step, but decided to ignore her mother and keep walking. When she entered the dining room and Ashley immediately look up, smiling brightly at her, she was amazed by just how many emotions that simple gesture caused within her: lust, obviously; pride that this was her girlfriend and no-one else had been able to say that in living memory; concern that it felt so fragile still; anxiety at the fact that she was going to have to find a way to tell her parents; disappointment in herself that she was even contemplating not telling her parents; and surprise at a sudden burst of possessiveness she felt as she realised that she wanted to be the only person who ever made Ashley smile that that ever again.

At least the short discussion they’d managed to fit in so far around their busy, busy making-out schedule had confirmed one thing: Ashley’s feelings for Spencer were at least on a par with her feelings for Ashley. When the brunette had shyly admitted that she’d been putting off sex so that their first time together could be special, Spencer could have cried with happiness. It was one of the sweetest, most thoughtful things anyone had ever said to her. Of course, that sweetness also made her want Ashley even more, but that was hardly a down side. This wanting, yearning thing inside that she was starting to get used to had surprised her with its intensity, but she was adapting to it. Being close to Ashley made it both better and worse: it satisfied the compulsion she had to be touching her in some way at all times but then even the slightest touch made her want more and she couldn’t have more.

As desserts were selected by everyone around the table and Paula and Arthur dished out generous portions of cake, pie and ice-cream, Spencer thought back to a conversation she’d had with Wendy the week before and considered whether she had always been gay and just hadn’t realised it – which was a definite possibility – or whether it was just an Ashley thing. It wasn’t really important in the grand scheme of things. It would hardly change what she felt for Ashley one way or the other, but she was curious. The other question at the back of her mind was whether everyone who was in love felt it with the same depth and strength she was experiencing or whether you had to be in love with Ashley Davies in particular to know those feelings. Again, it was only really an academic question. She was intrigued.

The one thing she wasn’t questioning, however, was that she was definitely in love. That should maybe have been the strangest thing because she’d had a quasi-boyfriend only two weeks beforehand and had never previously given any real consideration to women as an option. But, then again, this was Ashley, who had been the other half of her life since pretty much the day they had met, who she loved as a best friend, who was as essential to her as daylight and food. To her way of thinking, she figured it would have been stranger if she had fallen in love with someone else when she already had Ashley.

As she joined in with the general conversation around the table, she realised that she had been given the greatest Christmas present of all time. And it wasn’t the bracelet that he kept playing with, or even the fantastic books that Chelsea and Glen had bought her. It wasn’t even the $300 watch she had received from her parents.

The best Christmas present she had ever received was the chance to be in love with Ashley Davies. Anything she got back from Ashley in return was just a bonus.

“Remind me,” she murmured into the brunette’s ear, a self-satisfied grin forming as she saw Ash give a slight shiver at the feeling of her breath on her skin, “that I have something to tell you later.”

“Yeah?” Ash responded softly. “What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

“Is it a surprise?”

Spencer considered that. “You know, the only surprise is that it’s not really a surprise at all.” She laughed as she saw Ashley’s brows furrowing at the half-riddle. “It’s all good,” she said reassuringly. “It’s definitely all good.”

15 Comments

  1. Meech
    Posted 27 October 2010 at 5.58pm | Permalink

    I think it’s funny how Spencer is being all paranoid in thinking that everyone knows. Calm down, girl. Well, Arthur totally knows. Anyway, the end of that was cute. I can’t wait for the next chapter.

  2. Clom on the iPhone
    Posted 28 October 2010 at 2.15am | Permalink

    You updated! You beautiful soppy bff of mine. I wants more though. The Anticipation might kill me…

  3. spikkels8
    Posted 30 October 2010 at 2.04pm | Permalink

    Best end-of-the-month gift yet! An update from one of my fav writers on one of my fav fics.

  4. cosmic
    Posted 30 October 2010 at 5.08pm | Permalink

    LMAO, paranoia spencer.. I missed this, and its almost christmas too :D

  5. tee452
    Posted 5 November 2010 at 4.09am | Permalink

    Hahaha, Paula always has an ulterior motive, huh. Getting Spencer in the kitchen to pump her for info about Glen. And the bigger news is right under her nose.

    At our Christmas table, we fight over granny’s macaroni and mom’s broccoli casserole.

    Dev, I know I’ve said this before, but I adore this story so much. Thanks.

  6. sunsetstrip
    Posted 10 November 2010 at 1.26am | Permalink

    This is one of my favorite all-time Spashley fics. Please please update soon and keep this story going! I agree, the anticipation is killing me!

  7. sunsetstrip
    Posted 12 November 2010 at 7.14am | Permalink

    I’m not to proud to beg…please more of this story…

  8. cumbersome
    Posted 18 November 2010 at 4.04am | Permalink

    Shouldn’t the tiltawhirl be called the whirl and tilt. If in fact it tilted before it whirled people would be injured. I noticed another air-whore in this chapter. Love the story, by bi. Always enjoy your writing.

  9. dev0347
    Posted 18 November 2010 at 10.30am | Permalink

    I noticed another air-whore in this chapter

    This is what happens when you beta your own work!

  10. sunsetstrip
    Posted 2 December 2010 at 3.04am | Permalink

    Huh…I see you updated your webpage to have a fun little Christmas theme…but you haven’t updated my favorite story about Christmas. And with the holidays so near..tisk tisk.

    Ok, I will stop now. But a new chapter or two or three would be a wonderful early Christmas present.

    SS

  11. sunsetstrip
    Posted 18 December 2010 at 1.51pm | Permalink

    All I want for Christmas is…more of this story…

  12. Clom
    Posted 24 December 2010 at 11.02am | Permalink

    I don’t want a lot for Christmas,
    There is just one thing I need,
    I don’t need a lot of presents,
    Underneath the Christmas tree,

    I just want a few penned words,
    From devje’s fingers joy is heard,
    make my wish come true,
    All I want for Christmas

    Is an update to this ficccccccccccccc

  13. dev0347
    Posted 24 December 2010 at 11.50am | Permalink

    Nice song. I said “I’ll see what I can do.”

  14. Makiki
    Posted 1 January 2011 at 4.06pm | Permalink

    And? :)

  15. willweaver
    Posted 16 November 2013 at 12.28am | Permalink

    Do you think this might possibly be updated for Christmas this year? That would be an amaaaaaazing present! One can only wish! :)

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