A/N: Hello, marvelous readers!  Just wanted to say a few words and give the classic disclaimer :)

So I was going through my writing and found this oneshot that I wrote for a fic exchange (writing forum gift exchange) a few years back. Get that? A few YEARS. Crazy, huh? Anyhow, I really thought that I'd uploaded this way back when, but when I discovered I hadn't and in honor of Christmas being a month away, I thought I'd share it with y'all. It's more than a little rough, and not at all my best writing, but for those of you who are avid EAS fans I think you might still enjoy it.

As always, I don't own Rory, and I don't own Chase (even though sometimes I'd really like to, and I'm sure many of you can relate); Shelby Bach is a genius so all credit goes to her. I do, however, own this story, so if you want to share it shoot me a message rather than stealing it. Okay? Okay. Good talk :) 

Anyhow, enjoy this dive into cheesiness! May it give you the soak you desire this Christmas season :P

~Cinnamon

Rory's POV

I rolled my eyes as I walked into Chase's apartment. He was singing Christmas songs. Of course. There were lights everywhere and tinsel that was obviously stolen from the Tree of Hope's decorations.

"Love what you've done to the place," I told Chase dryly. He just laughed, but at least it made him stop singing.

"Come on, Rory! Where's your Christmas spirit?" He gestured with his hands.

"I think it died." My tone came out flatter than I'd meant it to and I winced. Christmas had a lot of bad memories associated with it that I didn't want to think about. My heart was always under lock and key, but the ice around it was twice as thick at Christmas.

"It can't have died, Rory, seeing how it was never a living thing to begin with. It may be buried, but that's different," he argued. 

That was true to a certain extent. I'd loved Christmases when I was younger. I had fond memories of Mom and Dad and me singing songs and having hot chocolate together, wrapped up in so many blankets we were more like marshmallows than people. Every once in a while, when one of our favorite songs would come on, dad would unearth me from my blanket cave for dance. I'd stand on his feet or he'd pick me up and we'd spin and laugh to the music together. Every year when the season was over I'd counted down the days until Thanksgiving so that we could start all over again.

Every year, that is, until I decided that I hated Christmas.

That was the year that mom and dad fought more and more. The holidays were especially rough, since they were off work for the holidays and neither of them had jobs to take them away from each other. That was the year my Christmas spirit died.

Chase launching into an incredibly annoying rendition of "Jingle Bells" pulled me out of my thoughts.

"If it's buried," I told Chase snippily, "then it's buried pretty deep." I scowled as a mischievous grin crept up Chase's face.

"I guess we'll just have to unearth it then." There was a twinkle in his eyes that I wasn't sure I liked.

"And just how do you plan to do that?" I challenged.

"You'll see," was all Chase said before picking up singing Christmas songs right where he left off. At a glare from me his rowdy "Jingle Bells" became "Silent Night." I wanted to stay annoyed and probably could've if it weren't for the fact that his singing was actually really good. 

I sprawled on his couch, just listening. He was lucky. His voice was enchanted by the Fey equivalent of "fairy godmothers," so he had an unfair advantage. At least, that's what I told my slightly-suffering ego. 

I was tired and as I lay there his voice washed over me like calming waves. This was what Christmas should feel like. Not stress, not tension or facades of cheer, just peace and calm and content. I let Chase's voice lull me into the calmest sleep I'd had in years.

I woke up with the smell of something sweet and opened my eyes to a mug of hot chocolate smothered with whip cream. Chase was holding it in my face.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" He tousled my hair with his free hand and I batted his arm away.

"I'm up. What do you want?" My crabby tone was unmistakable as I snatched the mug from Chase's outstretched hand. I took a long drink, foam from the whipped cream getting all over my face.

"I want to help you find your Christmas spirit!" Chase said excitedly, his green eyes shining in the light from his Christmas tree. He yanked the blanket off of me which he must've put on me while I was sleeping, and I was immediately annoyed.

"Hey!" I protested. It was cold.

"We aren't going to dig up your Christmas spirit on the couch," he said, eyebrows raised in challenge. I let out a groan.

"Okay. Fine. You win." I was too tired to argue. Chase stood for a moment, surprised that I agreed so readily. He kept staring at me though, and a bit of my patience snapped. "What?" I was cranky and cold. Arguing with him would've been pointless. Didn't he understand that? Chase shook his head and laughed, taking my hot chocolate from me and setting it on the table before he pulled me to my feet. I swayed a little and leaned into Chase for balance.

"You know, you're really cute when you're tired," he whispered in my ear, and I scowled as his arm wound around me. I shrugged him off, having every intention to stomp my way home to my apartment. But that was before I started seeing spots.

"Crap." My legs buckled underneath me and I sat down hard on the couch.

"Easy there, Scrooge." Chase grinned while I cursed my body's inability to get up so fast. Then Chase crouched down, lowering himself so that his face was level with mine. "Aren't you at least a little bit curious about my plan?" he asked. I, however, was completely confused due to the fact that my brain was just barely waking up. And Chase was so close. I had a hard enough time breathing around Chase sometimes, let alone thinking around him.

Not fair. Chase's brow knit with confusion.

"Huh?" He asked, and I blushed. I hadn't realized that I'd spoken out loud.

"I..well.." I struggled, embarrassed. "You're too close. I can't...I can't think. It's hard to, that is. When you're so close, I mean." Wow, I was literally the most awkward person on the planet. I could feel my blush sending a heat wave through my face. I was sure I looked like a tomato.

"Well, how well can you think when I do this?" Chase asked, grinning ear to ear. And then he started kissing me. Not my lips, just different spots on my face. My forehead. My cheek. I closed my eyes and sighed, my arms instinctively winding themselves around him. My nose. My ear. He smelled like peppermint and chocolate. My temple. I smiled.

No.

Stop it, heart.

You don't need anyone else to break you at Christmas.

He placed a kiss next to the corner of my mouth before I managed to find enough self-control to untangle my arms from him and shove him away.

"Stop!" 

It was harsh. Too harsh, and I knew it. I could see in Chase's eyes that I'd pained him, and after a quick pause he brushed his hands on his pants and stood up.  He was leaving. He would leave me just like everybody else.

But then he didn't.

Instead, Chase walked over to the side table and put my hot chocolate in one hand before taking the free hand in his.

"Let's go!" He tugged me to my feet.

"Where?" My mind was far from fully functional.

"Aha! Now she's curious!" Chase teased, looking at me with a wry grin, all traces of hurt gone. "You'll see soon enough. You'll want to drink that though," he said, nodding to my half-forgotten hot chocolate as he dragged me to the door. "It's gonna be cold where we're going and you need something to wake you up. You're still half asleep." Then he smiled at me. And oh my goodness that smile. It was so affectionate and sweet that my heart, frozen and locked up tight, couldn't help but thaw a little.

I downed the hot chocolate (though really it should've been called warm chocolate by the time I got to it) and threw on my boots. Chase wrapped my scarf around my neck, his fingers burning my skin where they touched. I shook myself and grabbed my coat off the back of Chase's couch before he took my hand and pulled me out the door. 

It was cold. 

So cold, in fact, I was certain my face was instantly pink from the chill. I shoved my hand into my pocket and my hand that was linked with Chase's into his pocket. He chuckled and turned to me.

"Your pockets are bigger, and I'm cold." I stated matter-of-factly, answering the question I could see forming in his eyes. He squeezed my hand in response. We walked awhile in silence, our breaths fogging up the air around us. It was late on Christmas Eve and EAS was quiet. We walked around outside, looping toward the doortrek doors as we took in all the lights. I loved that Chase and I were comfortable enough that we didn't have to talk. I could be myself with him and not worry about him thinking me rude just because I liked to think instead of talk every once in awhile.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, nodding towards the doors. We'd stopped in the middle of the square and could've been going through any of them. I wanted to know which one.

"You choose." Chase replied, and I was surprised.

"You don't have a specific one planned for your whole 'Unearth Rory's Christmas Spirit' scheme?"

"Nope." He said. "Any of them will work."

I thought for a minute before choosing New York. The fact that we were dressed for cold weather was the deciding factor in New York over Houston. We'd lived in both of those cities for a year or two when I was little, and I remembered loving walking through Central Park and playing in the snow as a kid in New York. In Houston there're hadn't been snow, but I had happy memories of making fake snow and eating snow cones and frosting sugar cookies.

I tugged Chase through the blue door that led to New York. The door opened up and appeared to the outside as an abandoned shop. I looked around to orient myself. We were only about a half mile away from Central Park and suddenly I couldn't wait to show Chase.

"Come on!" I pulled Chase and he followed me, the two of us fighting against the brisk wind. There was snow all over the sidewalk, taxis and cars clogging up the wet roads. It'd be faster to walk than drive in this weather.

"Where are we going?" Chase asked me, laughing as we danced around other pedestrians.

"Central Park!" I called to him over my shoulder. Even late on Christmas Eve, New York would never be a quiet city. Chase and I had to practically yell to hear each other over the noise from traffic. Finally, after several near run-ins with cars and pedestrians alike, we made it to the park.

"Wow," Chase breathed, taking in the beauty of the snow and the lights. It was straight out if a holiday painting. Completely picture perfect. We walked through the park, taking in the sights. I shoved him into the snow and he took me down with him, laughing as we made snow angels. We talked about dumb kids shows and he made me laugh until my abs were sore, and smile until my cheeks ached. Finally, we made our way back to the door. As we stood next to the abandoned shop Chase caught my arms and turned to face me. "Why'd you choose New York?" He asked, and I could feel that it was a little more than your typical question. I didn't know why it would matter though.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I lived here as a little kid and remembered loving it at Christmas. All the snow..." I trailed off. "I used to come to the park with my dad. Especially at Christmas time. We'd look at all the lights and make snow angels..." I looked around the park, smiled as I soaked in the memory before I turned back to Chase. He was grinning so hard you would've thought he'd won the lottery. "What?" I stared at him, confused.

"You do have some Christmas spirit!" He was excited. So I did what I always do: I rolled my eyes. "No really, Rory!" He was in earnest. "You chose New York because it's a place that gives you happy memories of Christmas. It's a place that you've felt real Christmas spirit." I wasn't buying this. I pulled Chase over to a nearby bench.

"What even is Christmas spirit? I don't even know what Christmas is about anymore." I might have been confused, but Chase was right about one thing: my animosity towards Christmas had shrunk at least a little while we were here at Central Park. I turned to look at Chase and saw a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Christmas is about spreading joy and spending time with your family," Chase stated confidently. I raised an eyebrow, clear skepticism all over my face.

"And yet, Christmas makes me mad and neither of us would ever spend it willingly with our families." I deadpanned. Chase chuckled, seeing the validity in my statement.

"True," Chase acknowledged, "but I think that real meaning of family isn't just people you're related to. I think it refers to people you love." He shot me a smile. "Christmas with me and Lena and the triplets definitely counts. We all love you." My rebellious heart skipped a beat, just like it always did when Chase hinted at loving me. His smile was so sincere, and a little more of my bitterness toward Christmas was washed away.

"You're right," I said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. It just been hard for me to get excited, with all the bad-" Chase squeezed my hands.

"I understand." His eyes searched mine. "It's okay to have scars. I have plenty, I'm sure." He gave me a sad smile, and I knew he understood. He wouldn't make me tell him, but he'd listen if I wanted to. We'd both talked enough about our lives growing up to know that it hadn't been a cakewalk for either of us. Chase's parents had always been separated and when he was five he'd gone to live with his dad who was hardly ever home. When his dad actually was home he always had something to criticize Chase for. I was sure that Chase had plenty of scars and had had plenty of terrible, lonely Christmases himself. My heart melted more for the little boy Chase had been. He'd been forced to grow up so fast, much faster than I had.

Chase looked at me and, in a silent agreement, he took my hand and we started back toward the door. I rested my head against his shoulder, our fingers laced together as we walked. I'd been so bitter every year at Christmas that I'd decided it was better to be alone than to have my hopes crushed like they always were, year after year. Growing up, I'd always spend Christmas at different parent's house, and I'd always be upset, missing what I'd had as a child and hating my parents for what they'd done that Christmas, no matter how many years had gone by.

As soon as I could spend Christmas alone, I did. I'd hide in my room, feigning sickness or headaches. For me, lonely was better than longing or bitter, and those were the only possible ways for me to feel. I built the walls around my heart, and I built them high and strong. Chase though, had worked his way toward my heart with his incessant laughter, his jokes and his flirty smile, his eyes that could see straight into your soul... His strength as well as that little bit of shyness that he seemed to save just for me, his vulnerability at times, and his heart that was always ready to listen and forgive... Chase had worked his way to my heart and broken down my walls more than anybody else ever had, but still I kept him out. I didn't want to be hurt again.

We'd made it back through the door and into the courtyard when I realized I was crying. Crying for everything I'd lost all those years ago, for all the chances and everything else I'd lost by pushing everyone away. Chase steered me to our favorite couch under the tree of hope and took my face in his hands, wiping away the few tears on my cheeks with his thumbs. I looked down, a little ashamed, but Chase tilted my head up so that I had to look straight into his eyes. I was vulnerable, and he knew it. My control over my heart was at its weakest.

Chase took a deep breath before speaking. "I know that Christmas is a hard time for you," he said, serious and sincere. "You have a lot of bad memories, lots of scars that still need some time to heal. I want to help you, Rory. Let me help you make new memories." He could see straight through my eyes and into my heart. "I know it'll take a while. We're both a little broken," He smiled a sad, sort of serene smile. "But give me a chance, Rory. Let me help you get your Christmas spirit back." His thumbs caressed my face and I was crying in earnest now, the ice around my heart melting and flooding out through my tears. 

Chase cared about me. He cared about me so much. He was hurting just because I was hurting. He felt what I felt. And then I discovered the truth: Chase had broken through all my walls and melted all my ice. Chase was already inside my heart. As much as I battled with my heart, I couldn't keep him out. So instead of fighting I threw myself at him. My arms held him so tight he couldn't have left me if he tried. He was my anchor. I could do this with him. I could make it through and maybe even enjoy Christmas. His hands left my face and cradled my head and back, pulling me to him and holding me as if I was infinitely precious; something he cherished and was afraid to break.

"Okay," I told Chase. He gave me an extra tight squeeze before he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. I knew they were still a little teary, but with him inside, my heart was getting stronger by the second.

"I love you Rory." Chase said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. He'd said it. Not just hinting or teasing, but he'd come right out and said it, point blank, completely honest. My tears came back full force, but not as sad ones. They made me realize that I hadn't felt truly loved after my parents got divorced. That was why I'd hated Christmas. I'd missed the love that I'd felt when we were all happy and together. That's what Christmas was all about. More than being happy and giving presents, Christmas was about love. I pulled Chase close again and whispered in his ear.

"I love you too, Chase." And then he kissed me. No mistletoe, no romantic sunset, no cliche kiss in the rain. It was perfect. My best friend, under the tree of hope. It was kiss number six, but it wasn't like I was counting or anything. Not at all. But I will say that it was our best kiss yet.

When we finally untangled ourselves I looked to Chase with a content smile.

"You know," I told Chase thoughtfully, "we're under the tree of hope." Chase looked up and smiled. The tree was decorated with lights and tinsel and a few ornaments here and there. "That's what you've given me." I said. "Hope."

My heart was stronger with him inside it. I leaned my head on his shoulder and smiled. He took my hand and we sat there together. I couldn't even feel the cold. Chase had given me the best gift. He'd given me a new memory to help outweigh the bad. He'd listened to me, he'd given me time to think. He hadn't served me worthless platitudes about how I should be feeling. He'd dug up an old, happy memory, made a new one with me, and he'd given me hope. Hope that the past wouldn't determine the present, and hope that the future would continue to get better and better. But all of that could be summed up in one word. Love. Chase had given me love, and that was what Christmas was all about.

I smiled to myself. Chase had been right. My Christmas spirit hadn't died. It was there, just buried. I would be digging it up little by little for as long as it took, maybe never really getting all of the old stuff back. But that was okay. I didn't really need my old Christmas spirit. Chase's love had given me enough all on it's own. Because honestly, that's what Christmas time was for. Love. And sitting there on that couch, under the glow of a thousand miniature lights, snuggled up close to Chase, I knew I'd found it.