It didn't take much, or long, for Brendon and Everleigh to turn their bet into a full-on food fight. Except they didn't have any food so flour was their weapon of choice. The kitchen looked like they'd opened a window and let the blizzard come in. It was going to be a fucking mess to clean up.

It wasn't Everleigh's fault she couldn't stand to look at herself. And it sure as hell wasn't Brendon's fault he was trying his best to help her. They were just at opposite ends of the same book and weren't quite meeting in the middle.

Brendon's naturally dark hair was speckled with white. Clothes covered. Everleigh had hit him in the side of the face with one handful and it was still steaming off him like a smoke bomb.

The sound of her partner screaming interrupted her latest throw of flour and Everleigh wasn't all that happy he did it. Maverick came sprinting into the room, shortly followed by Stevie, and hid behind Everleigh because he was, at his core, a fucking wimp.

"Hiding behind your girlfriend is such a bitch move," Stevie practically growled at him.

"Why do you think I picked someone taller than me—"

Everleigh rolled her eyes. "You're such a spoon, Kingston—"

"What happened?" Brendon asked. "You two were doing so well."

"What happened is Maverick had the nerve to bring up fuckin' Waimea to suggest that I want to record a country song—"

Everleigh didn't know if it was a safe space to admit it would probably sound phenomenal.

"Because you fucking did—" Maverick said.

"No I didn't," Stevie said. "Stop making things up."

"What genre were you going to say instead, Stev?" asked the man still hiding behind Everleigh. She felt his hand a couple times trying to wipe was she assumed was flour off her ass but eventually he gave up. "Go ahead."

"I don't know. I was just thinking out loud," Stevie said. "Maybe I wanted to do... an electronic dance track."

"I'd like to hear it."

"We're not even in the studio. How am I supposed to show you—"

"What's significant about Waimea?" Everleigh asked. She had travelled the world but refused to fly to Hawai'i when she was working as a flight attendant. It was one of her only boundaries. Some of the others were more than happy to fill her place. It wasn't great.

"Her mom's from Waimea," Brendon said. "It's basically cowboy country on the Big Island."

"Right—"

"Thank you for confirming she does have a cowboy bone in her body—" Maverick said.

"Get the fuck out from behind me if you're going to be a shit—"

"Sorry."

"Everleigh," Stevie said. "He's being mean to me."

That was really all she needed to push him out from behind her. That and another singular ass tap trying to get flour off her was enough.

"Did you even bring up that you're the second biggest musician from Windsor?" Everleigh asked her partner. "Behind a country artist—"

Maverick looked insulted. "I've sold more units than Shania Twain, thank you very much—"

"Oh my god," Stevie said.

"And there it is," Everleigh said. "Shania."

Maverick crossed his arms. "Want me to tell Stevie where you were last summer?"

Everleigh gaped at him. That was something that he promised to never bring up. "Asshole."

Stevie looked at her. "Everleigh?"

Brendon looked worse for wear. "I don't think we need to discuss this—"

"Where was Everleigh last summer—"

"Cowichan, BC," Maverick announced. Everleigh was going to take his name off their lease. "Off-roading with my sister at the Sunfest Country Music Festival."

"You're such a dick."

Everleigh, admittedly, had a wonderful time at the festival. There was great music, good drinks. They camped under the stars. Paying for showers was ridiculous, but there was no denying it was worth the daily five dollars. She even bought tickets for the 2025 season as well. It was that good.

That didn't mean she ever wanted it coming to light that she had gone. How fucking embarrassing.

"Country music festival—" Stevie looked at her like she'd cut her heart out with a rusty spoon and stomped on it before lazily sewing it back in. "Everleigh, tell me he's lying."

Everleigh bit her lip. The one card she wasn't supposed to play was the only card left in her hand. "Brendon was there too."

Maverick's eyes widened. "Okay, that, I didn't know."

"Oi, you fuckwit." Brendon threw a handful of flour at her and hit her in the side of the face with it. Which she deserved. In some form.

Stevie looked sick. "I think I'd rather go back to hearing Maverick tell Brendon to fill his tank."

Judging by the look on Maverick's face, he'd convinced Stevie to let him record his version of Santa Baby that he'd written on the plane. If it was any consolation, Everleigh had to hear him giggle about it while searching up Formula One terms while on his overpriced wifi on the plane. And after all that, he wouldn't even tell her what he'd written.

"I'm sure there's a moral NDA for music not yet released—" Maverick said. Like that would do anything when the beans had already been spilled.

"And as we all know by now," Stevie said, "I spit on NDAs."

"Good thing it was a song about Santa, then," Maverick said, like a liar. "Either way. You should still be more focused on them spending the start of August—including your birthday—at a country music festival."

"I actually think we should circle back around to whatever Maverick did to piss you off," Brendon said. "Right, Leigh?"

"Absolutely," Everleigh confirmed. "100 percent."

"Remember when I said I didn't want to travel during a blizzard?" Stevie asked. "I've changed my mind."

"Should get country music fan Everleigh to drive yo—" Maverick stopped himself. Really looked at Everleigh. Took a longer look at Brendon. "Wait, what the hell happened to you two?"

"Nothing," Everleigh said. Too quick. The look Maverick had given her every time he'd seen her that day threatened that they were going to have a long, awful talk about Everleigh's eating habits and she was not going to enjoy it in the slightest. She highly doubted Maverick was in the mood to do so, either.

"Now that you mention it, Mav," Stevie said. "There's suspiciously low stock of sugar cookies but a high amount of flour on... people."

"It's makeup," Brendon said. "Face was looking a little too oily."

"We're just... white. Caucasian. What was it?" Everleigh stopped for a moment. "Commonwealth besties."

Brendon looked like he wanted to throw another bunch of flour at her. Or, if they had any cookies left, just hit her as hard as he could with one.

"Does this have anything to do with Brendon force feeding you a cookie—" Stevie asked.

"Don't know what you mean," Everleigh said.

"I bet you it's still in the sink—" Maverick said.

"Bet it's not."

Everleigh was banking on him not actually checking. He gave her a look. "So... we're admitting it?"

"Nope."

Something she'd never thought she'd ever accuse Stevie Kealoha of was not being a girl's girl. But when she walked over to the sink and pointed out the spewed cookie, that was exactly what had happened. If Stevie had taken Everleigh's side, she could've just deterred Maverick away from calling her bluff. But they'd been in the room for hours and clearly the brain cell was tied together even tighter than it usually was. Fuck.

"Still there."

"Dewey wasn't feeling well," Everleigh said. And the dog in question walked over and tilted his head at her. "That was him."

Brendon rolled his eyes.

"I think I... I might be sick if I keep looking at it," Stevie said. "Mav, we need to head back if we're gonna finish this thing."

"With Christmas Cookies, right?"

"Oh, I love Christmas Cookies," Everleigh said.

"Do you now?" Brendon asked.

"The song," Everleigh said.

"And what genre is that song?" Brendon asked.

Everleigh pulled her phone from her pocket. Didn't have anywhere to wipe the flour off her screen because everywhere else on her was also covered in flour. She started scrolling on her photos app despite the baking ingredient. "Anyone want to see a video of Brendon drunkenly shaking his ass to Tim Hicks?"

"Was it at least Stronger Beer?" Maverick asked.

"You know it, babes."

The video was from the first day of the festival. In all his glory, Brendon was jetlagged, overtired, wearing a shirt that was short on Everleigh so it came like halfway down his torso and gave up, jean shorts that he'd cut off from his airport jeans because it was hotter than he expected in Canada, and cowboy boots that he'd purchased specifically for the festival. Stronger Beer had come on and with less alcohol in him than her and Esmé had expected he'd be drinking, Brendon took to the crowd and twerked against the air. The song could barely be heard over how hard Everleigh and Esmé were laughing, but it was identifiable. It was a piece of cinema Everleigh would hold on to forever.

What she hadn't needed was Brendon grabbing her phone and immediately dropping it into Dewey's water dish not too far away. She barely had time to react before he casually went, "You're so clumsy, Leigh."

"You fucking wanker." The only thing she had to hold onto was that she backed her electronics up chronically. Failing a test because a dipshit had her phone in another country did that to a person.

"This is like the Capri Sun debacle all over again," Stevie said.

"This is worse. They can't go outside. Unless..." Maverick thought about it for a moment. Considered the amount of jackets piled by the door. "No. They can't go outside."

"What if I just tap out of this song and sub Brendon in instead—" Stevie tried.

"I think Leigh would love to join," Brendon said. "She's Christmas Cookies' biggest fan."

Everleigh considered fighting him on being MARS' biggest fan too. But they were going to run out of flour. "I am not a singer."

"I literally have videos of you singing—" Maverick said.

"Those are private." They were mostly Everleigh in the shower. And were only recorded because Maverick hadn't announced himself when he decided he needed to pee in the same loo she was in despite them having three per house. At least he'd waited until he'd washed his hands to record.

"Not to all the neighbours."

"Stevie can make anyone a singer," said the talking butthole beside her. "Are you saying you doubt her abilities?"

"Stevie's not a part of the song," Everleigh argued.

"I'll sing if I get to harmonize with Everleigh," said the angel on Earth who really needed to take a hint and help Everleigh out.

"I have homework to do," Everleigh said. She ran a hand through her hair only to find it covered in flour when she looked at it. "And I need to take a shower. No time."

"Don't even have to credit you by name," Maverick said. Helpfully. "You could be Penny Benjamin."

Everleigh glared at him. And quickly flipped him off. "Spoons don't talk."

"Hear that, babe?" Brendon asked. "She doesn't want to sing with you."

Everleigh didn't want to sing at all. She could've been at a MARS concert having the time of her life and they could've called her randomly on stage and she would've refused.

"Is it 'cause we didn't answer your 500 texts the other day—" Stevie asked.

Everleigh considered it. She was hardly mad about it anymore but if it helped her get out of it... "Do we consider that a viable excuse—"

Stevie's face dropped. She looked willing to clean the cookie in the sink if it meant she could try and make it up to her. "I can't believe it. Everleigh hates me. I knew it. I knew she was never going to forgive me for worrying her—"

Everleigh's stomach dropped. Twisted.

"Apparently she's fine with letting you spiral so..." Brendon said before Everleigh could try and reassure Stevie.

"The two of you can sing while Stevie and I talk this out," Everleigh suggested. "That feels right."

"I don't think she wants to talk," Brendon said. As soon as she had her laptop, she was going to post the video of him and Stronger Beer. It was what he deserved. "She wants to sing, right?"

"I want to sing."

"Sounds like it's back to you and Maverick," Everleigh snapped.

Maverick's eyes widened. "Okay, this isn't funny anymore."

"I just found out they both ditched me on my birthday to go to a country music festival," Stevie said. (In their defense: She'd been busy the day of and they had plans afterwards.) "How do you think I feel—"

Everleigh was going to puke and not on her own accord. "I'llDoItIfYouTurnTheMicDown."

Maverick looked annoyed that he had to say it. "You can't possibly think I could hear that."

"Not the time to play that card—"

"Come again?" Stevie asked.

"Yeah," Brendon said. "One more time for the crowd, please."

If Brendon hadn't spoken, Everleigh might've repeated herself. "I need to take the dog out—" she said instead.

"That's okay, I'll take him," Brendon said. Too willing to step out into the cold if only to piss Everleigh off. "You should all get started, we'll be right back."

"He actually doesn't like you." At the moment, like mother, like son.

"Hey, Dewey—" Brendon said. And because he was spineless, Dewey wagged his tail eagerly at the other man. "—want to go for a walk?"

The little shit sprinted toward the door and grabbed his leash in his mouth. Wagged his tail by the door.

Everleigh smiled at Brendon. "Hope you freeze."

Brendon smiled back at her. "Hope you're not off-key."

"He's messing around," Stevie said. "You'll be fine."

Everleigh threw a pinch of flour at Brendon. For good measure. He glared at her.

"Just to camouflage you in the snow. Don't want you getting eaten," Everleigh said. She grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe the flour off her face and admitted defeat. "Let's get this over with, please."

Stevie linked arms with her and started skipping back toward the recording room. Everleigh tried to glance back at Maverick, who promptly wiped fake tears away with his middle finger at her. Everleigh couldn't say that she wouldn't have done the exact same thing to him.

"Oh, this is gonna be so much fun!" Stevie exclaimed. "Not 'cause it's a country song 'cause those are bad, boo. But you're gonna sound amazing."

Everleigh begged to differ. "Mhmm. So fun."

It wasn't Everleigh's fault that she could keep up with Stevie's skipping just by walking normally. She was taller than her sister but they both had long legs. Her parents both had long legs. It didn't help that she wasn't at all enthused to sing. Everleigh only sang in the shower. This was not the shower.

"Have fun!" Brendon yelled from the door, clicking on Dewey's harness.

Everleigh rolled her eyes. "Get bent!"

*

There was, admittedly, a magic in the air when Stevie and Maverick got together and made music. It wasn't because it was Christmas and it wasn't because of any miracles. It's just how they worked. It was simply the greatest thing that the universe would ever come up with and that was the unbiased truth.

As unbiased as she could be when Stevie had been her favourite singer since MARS came out with their first album and she shared a bed with the other one, who she supposed also made some good music.

(Who was she kidding? When Maverick brought Curtain Call home with its first physical copy and finally let her listen, she bawled her eyes out. It was perfection wrapped into an album. It was Kingston's heart on his sleeve. It was everything he could've wanted and proved that he deserved everything he would win for it. She'd loved every single album he'd written, but that was something special.)

Stevie and Maverick divided up the roles so that when Brendon came back, there was a verse waiting for him to share with the other man. Everleigh wasn't even that smug about it. Getting to watch them write the L had been a treat, but a passion project with a tight deadline where all they had to do was have fun? A gift.

By the time he'd frozen himself outside taking the dog out, Brendon was willing to join them in a warm room. Dewey always loved the snow, the Australian driver not so much. Everleigh's olive branch was bringing him a blanket from the living room and draping it over his shoulders. He gave her a small nod and Everleigh gave him one in return.

Maverick left the room at some point during Stevie and Everleigh's portion of recording and came back with a couple towels for Brendon and Everleigh to attempt to get the flour out of their hair and off of them. A shower still would've been nice, but the towel helped a little. Brendon even helped Everleigh get some off her from the top of her head, Everleigh wiped some off his jaw. Peace on earth and all that jazz.

And Christmas Cookies sounded great. Despite everything, it did.

Something of a Christmas miracle.