#I can improvise a little in the middle but I've gotta know what the destination is

[tiixij]

A good horror writing exervise for ideas is taking the least threatening thing you can think of and try to make it terrifying. Like it will be silly at first but it at least gets the brain going.

I actually did try to do something like this once! It was about ceiling fans but it never really got anywhere unfortunately. I might try to do something like that again

[marshmallowatheart]

To All The Boys I've Loved Before (Part 47)

"I love the smell of testosterone in the morning," Veronica quips when she spots Lamb taking out pictures with his flexed muscles.

Straightening up, he acts like he wasn't just striking poses. His face scrounges up, annoyed as ever when he sees one of the trouble making kids of Keith Mars, and remarks, "It's not bring your kid to work day."

"One, it's a public building," she counts on her finger. "Two, I've got a list and I'm checking it twice," she wiggles her note book of things to be done before the Christmas party that evening.

"Whatever Rudolph," he grunts dismissively and moves to leave.

Santa's the one with the list, she mentally corrects and waves him off, taunting, "Later, Grinch."

"Vehronika," she hears from behind her.

Turning around with a ready smile on her lips, she warmly greets her party planner partner, "Hi, Inga."

--vm--

"Heather, we're not supposed to be back here," Ophelia hastily whispers, eyes darting around wildly to see if anyone is looking at them.

"If you keep saying things like that then it's gonna draw attention," she whispers back, tugging her to come along.

Destination reached, Heather closes the door as quietly as she can and in hush whispers reminds, "If we wanna start our own Christmas decoration business, they've got to see the merchandise!"

Ophelia sighs, complying, knowing there's truth to her words but there's a heaviness in her gut that screams this is a bad idea.

"Quick, let me climb on you," the little blonde instructs.

"Heather!" The brunette stares, wide eyed and unwilling with her arms crossed over her chest.

Heather tilts her head and stares at her before sighing in exasperation, "Ophelia, come on!"

Caving, she snaps, "Make it quick!"

Climbing on her best friend's shoulders, Heather stretches up and places her wooden reindeer ornament made of sticks, glue and paint.

Satisfied, she asks, "Hand me another one."

Eyes wide, Ophelia stares at the box that's sitting on the counter two inches too far from her grasp and she gulps. "It's too far."

Heather looks at the box, biting her lip as she tries to estimate the distance between them and the counter. "Think you can move without me tumbling down?"

"I don't know," she quivers. "How are you gonna get down?"

"Same way I got on?"

"I don't think I can bend the same."

"Okay, just lean a bit to the shelf and I'll use it as balance."

Ophelia takes a deep breath, all their weight had been held by the fact that she was still. Her heart thumps in loud erratic beats as she moves forward.

The moment she does Heather wobbles above her, the blonde calls her to a halt as she clings to the branch of the tree to prevent them from crashing down.

"Heather," Ophelia panics, she notices the ornaments jingling along with the branches.

"It's okay, it's okay. Nothing fell," she soothingly says, trying to calm the girl beneath her down. "I'm gonna climb onto this shelf, okay? Then you can hand me the ornaments."

Taking in a deep breath, Ophelia lets out, "okay."

Stumbling to keep herself steady, in two spastic steps, Ophelia reaches the shelf. Heather latches her hand onto the wooden shelf, readying herself to climb it and Ophelia tries her best to help her.

They both breath in relief when Heather gets a stable balance on the shelf.

"For the record, this is a really bad idea," Ophelia says as she hands over one ornament at a time.

"We're already doing it, Felia, a little too late for regrets."

Within minutes, Heather places the final touches and starts to climb her way down with Ophelia trying to help her.

She wobbles, losing her footing on the way down. Ophelia gasps, holding the blonde as tightly as she can while Heather murmurs the repeated reassurances of I’m okay only to freeze at the sound of the cart - the cart that just so happened to be the wheels of the Christmas tree - crashing into the door.

They stare, paralysed and numb, when the lone angel on the top of the tree falls to the ground, shattering it into unholy pieces of porcelain.

"Son of a nutcracker."

--vm--

The community hall is dawned in traditional colours of red, green and white. Veronica's dressed in black with a cheerful Christmas hat as she settles the closed boxes of cookies on the table. She counts to make sure that she's brought batches of the different types of cookies that she's made and she lingers on the fruit cake cookies, her finger tracing the label.

"What cookie are you making that needs raisins?" Meg asks, brows furrowed, unable to think of a time they'd ever used raisins in their recipes.

As naturally as she can, Veronica answers, "Fruit cake."

"Fruit cake cookies? Ronica, no one's gonna want to eat that."

She can't blame Meg for saying that, she had the same thought when he'd mentioned it to her. It doesn't matter if no one else eats it, as long as he does. "I know someone who will."

"Someone?" Meg pipes, eyes glowing with intrigue as she looks expectantly at her sister.

"Logan," Heather chips, giddy grin on her lips as she snatches a few raisins to nibble on.

"Shut up," Veronica snipes, decidedly ignoring both of her sister's coos and teasing as she carefully reads the worn out writing from the old cookie recipe she'd gotten from Logan's mom.

"Lights are a-go," Leo calls from up the ladder, snapping her from her daze. She looks up at him and he gives her a quick thumps up.

"Thanks, deputy," Veronica shouts through the noise of the community hall. "You'll make a fine little helper yet!"

Veronica looks at her notepad, checking various tasks off her list when she bumps into her little sister, wide eyes and crooked smile that could only mean trouble.

Veronica narrows her eyes at her and asks, "Why are you smiling like that?"

"What are you talking about? This is the way I always smile," Heather says, fast and unconvincing as she tries to hold her smile.

"Heather Mars," she emphasizes, warningly.

"Oh, do you hear that?" Heather makes a show of cupping her ear. "It's the sound of Christmas. Gotta go, byeee." Heather skedaddles, grabbing Ophelia's hand and running off.

Veronica's eyes widen considerably as she turns to the middle school church choir, loudly singing a rendition of Deck the Halls. "Why are you singing? There's no one here."

"You're here," Lauren - a girl she remembers from Heather's class - says, staring at her pointedly.

"I meant guests," Veronica sighs, not wanting to deal with a choir of kids. "You kids are here way too early," she mumbles underneath her breath, shaking her head. "Inga! Help, please!" She calls out loud and hears the 'yes, Vehronika' come from the distance.

--vm--

"We just gotta get a new one," Heather suggests, optimistic and bright with no reason to be. "Without anyone figuring out we broke the first one.”

Full on panic mode activated, Ophelia paces back and forth with her hands to her head. "We're eleven! How are we gonna get to a store? We don't have transport, we don't have money, and Veronica is gonna kill us. We ruined Christmas!”

"You're spiralling! Look, we'll just make one and everything will be okay because we're kids and our crafts are cute."

"How are we gonna make an angel? There's no time for paper mache to dry."

"We improvise, Felia! We didn't get an A in Arts and Crafts for nothing."

--vm--

"Hey, Veronica."

"Deputy Sacks," Veronica smiles. "You ready to get your ho-ho-ho-ing on?"

He gives her a sheepish smile with flash of guilt shimmering in his eyes. "Yeah, about that."

Veronica's smile falls and her eyes grow wide in panic as he tells her that he has a date and can't be Santa tonight.

--vm--

Veronica pulls out her puppy dog eyes and head tilt. "Leo, please."

"Veronica," he sighs, giving her a helpless look.

"Every time there's a Christmas party without a Santa, an angel loses its wings."

"Come on, you know that's not true," he swallows, trying to look away from her pleading gaze.

She pouts. "The kids need you, Leo!"

"Alright, alright," he sighs once again. "Gimme that."

She eagerly thrusts it towards him, wiping away tears that don't exist as she praises, "You're a real St. Nick, Leo, the sheriff of Christmas."

--vm--

"Ho, ho, ho, to me," Wallace grins, snatching a cookie to eat.

"Fennel!" Veronica gasps as she appears from behind him. "Stealing cookies?"

"I’ve been good,” he playfully defends. “I deserve cookies."

She chuckles, shaking her head. “I sent a whole box to your house."

"But these are here and I'm tired after carrying all those presents."

“Got 'em all?” She asks, bright and hopeful, it’s one of the last thing on her list.

“You know it,” he grins, pridefully biting on his cookie.

She matches his grin, "Santa ain’t got nothin’ on you.”

--vm--

"Why are you wearing a Santa's costume?" Veronica stares at Vinnie with an unhinged look of grossed out.

He gawks at her, pointing at her with his white gloved finger. "You told me you didn't have a Santa!"

"It wasn't an invitation!" She defends; she was stuck taking care of mishap after mishap (deliveries gone wrong, criminals that stole her little helpers away, dates that stole her Santa away) and so she'd called Vinnie to tell him that she couldn't come into work (and now somehow she's got herself two Santas). "You just conveniently had a Santa suit just laying around?"

He looks at her as though she's ridiculous to think otherwise, remarking with a simple, "Doy."

--vm--

"Oh! These are just adorable," Inga gushes, flipping through the photographs Meg's showing her. "Oh! Backup looks like an angel, he belongs on the cover of a Christmas card."

Heather perks up, nudging Ophelia to pay attention, silently whispering that she's got an idea.

Meg beams, "He is so cute! Oh! How are Trixie and Bud?"

"Trixie just had puppies. There's only one left."

Heather grins slow and wide, whipping around and nears the talking duo. "Can I see those?"

"You've already seen them," Meg tells her, smiling as Inga shuffles to get pictures of the new borns.

"Can't I see them again?" Heather pouts. "I mean, isn't that the reason pictures even exist."

Meg's brows furrow, warily eyeing her sister but lets her take the pictures and skip away.

Inga hands Meg her lot of puppy pictures which causes the college girl to gasp with awe. "They are so cute!"

The old woman smiles warmly, then her eyes catch a boy coming towards them, looking straight at Meg. "You have a visitor," Inga says, giggling as she comments about how it's not just the puppies that are cute.

Meg doesn't hide her smile as she indulges Inga with an exaggerated oh, stop it before turning around. "Hey," Meg softly smiles in greeting. "You're here early.

Hamilton smiles back, dimples peeking out and he shrugs with his hands in his pocket. "Just felt like seeing you."

--vm--

The very last thing on Veronica's list is the Christmas tree. All they had to do was move it from the backroom to the hall which Hamilton had happily volunteered to help her do. Once that was done, it was Meg's turn to host and she was done with her duties.

Only, once they got to the backroom, the Christmas tree had been missing an angel.

Storming out of the room, Veronica finds Heather and grits, "Where is the angel statue?"

Heather's eyes widen and then she let's out a breath, with a face of righteousness. "Well, I found that the depiction of an angel has been devastatingly in accurate so I corrected it. Backup is a true angel, don't you think?"

After many failed attempts at trying to create an angel to replace the one on top of the tree, Heather had given up. She'd decided to use an easy peasy star. But then, the idea to use Backup's picture hit her like a lightning bolt when she'd heard Inga describe him as an angel.

It was perfect because everyone loved Backup and there was nothing more pure and top of the tree worthy (she could at least sell the story to her father).

So she'd picked the cutest one (it felt like Sophie's choice) and clipped it on top of the tree. Wallace helped (she's no snitch though).

"Heather," Veronica stares at her, upset and unbudging.

"Is that disagreement, I hear? Because let me tell you that's a sure way for me to win #1 spot on his list."

Fed up, she asks, "What'd you do with the angel?"

"I told you -"

"Heather!"

"Okay, it broke!" She confesses. "I swear it was an accident and I tried replacing it but that didn't work out and this was the best I could do but I stand by the undeniable fact that Backup is indeed an angel."

Veronica lets out a heavy sigh, trying with all her might to let go of her anger. "It's fine. It's fine," she grits, turning away from her sister and walking out the door.

--vm--

"Vehronika?" Inga calls. "Is this cookies for the table?" She asks, holding up the fruit cake cookies.

"Uh, yeah," she bites her lip. "Let me take it."

Inga hands over the box with the smile and Veronica takes it graciously. Her fingertips tap at the box as she stares at the door. She should leave them open them up to the public but she doesn't want to just yet. There's no denying that she's made it for him. She wants him to eat it. She just doesn't know where he is yet. So she tucks the box under her arm for safe keeping.

"Dude, all I'm saying that is Spike and Buffy belong together," she hears the loud voice of one Dick Casablancas.

Her mouth curves in a smile and she turns around, easily spotting the tall blond coming towards her accompanied by her red hair streaked friend.

"And I'm just stating that she loves Angel," comes Mac's rebuttal.

Veronica's eyes move past them, searching the crowd for Logan but he never comes.

"Veronica, Spike or Angel?" Mac asks, coming to a halt in front of the petite blonde.

Unblinking at the question, she looks between them and asks, "Where's Logan?"

Dick shrugs, trying to stifle his giggles as he prompts, "Why? You want what's left of him?"

"Dick," Mac nudges him, shooting him a disapproving glance.

"Alright, alright, man. I don't know. Maybe he was hungry. Or burning," he cracks up, giggling to himself.

Mac smacks his shoulder while Veronica rolls her eyes, unimpressed.

Then there's a sinking realization she has that Logan might not be coming at all; she keeps her eye on the door just in case.

--vm--

The middle scholars stand on the podium, Heather and Ophelia have joined them, slotting themselves in the middle row dawned in their themed coloured gowns.

Meg stands in front of them, microphone in hand as she thanks everyone for attending and goes on to say, "Grandpa Mars used to say, ‘the heart knows what it wants even when the head doesn’t." She paused for a moment looking directly at Veronica, giving her a pointed smile before turning her gaze to the rest of the room.

"And Christmas is the true celebration of the heart. It's love, it's family, it's togetherness. It's magic in its purest form. Today, to express that magic we have Neptune Middle School's Choir to sing the Christmas classic All I Want For Christmas is You," Meg ends, awarding an applause from the crowd.

Veronica leans closer to her dad and whispers, "Did grandpa really say that?"

Keith shrugs, eyes on the stage as the girls take over the microphone and start to sing. "Sound advice, don't you think?"

She bites back a smile and remarks, "You mean, don't I feel?"

His gaze moves from the stage onto her and he questions, "What do you feel?"

Her brows shoot, her lips pursed in presumed thought and she quips, "All I want for Christmas is a pony?"

--vm--

She can't deny that every time someone came through the door, she was hoping it'd be Logan. She'd kept his box of cookies sealed away, unable to let it be in the line of consumption when the person she'd made it for hadn't even tasted it yet.

That's how she finds herself standing in front of the Echolls' door. She lets out a breath and presses the bell, standing awkwardly as she stares at the closed door.

She considers pressing the bell again and then has thoughts about what if he doesn't want to see her? What if he isn't home?

Just before she loses her nerve, she gives the bell another ring. It takes two minutes - longest minutes of her life - before the door opens revealing Logan in all his bed hair, groggy eyes and bare chested glory.

She blows out a breath, eyes flickering down to his chest and abs as he adjusts to the light of the outside.

"You didn't come to the party," she says, airy and questioning - she wonders if he hears the disappointment she felt every time she didn’t see him today.

He stares at her, head to toe, taking in the fact that she's really in front of him. "You wanted space," comes his soft and sleep hazed voice. "After what happened, Heather wasn't gonna let you have that if I was there."

Her eyes stay on him as she tries to focus but her eyes can't help straying to his naked chest. Taking a breath, she pushes the box in her hands towards him. "I made you fruit cake cookies.”

His face slowly breaks into a smile as his fingers graze over hers in acceptance of the box. "You did?"

Eyes locked on his, her lips curl into a smile and she reminds, "You said you liked them."

"I do," he doesn't hide the hope springing into his entire being. "Do you wanna come in?"

She nods, stepping forward her eyes flicker up the door way. "Is that mistletoe?"

Logan follows her line of sight and looks up, squinting his eyes to clear his vision. "I think it's Holly."

She bites her lip, tilting her head as she gives him a pointed look. "I'm pretty sure it's mistletoe."

He refocuses on her, eyes bright with understanding and a wide grin comes over his face. "Then it must be."

He leans into her, softly letting his lips cover hers until she grabs a hold of his face and deepens their kiss, sucking on his upper lip and pulling his face closer to hers. Their noses clash and she feels herself falling desperately into him but she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want to stop kissing him.

"You know you don't need a reason to kiss me," he whispers over her lips, smile unfading. "I'm yours to kiss whenever."

Dazed, she lightly nods. Her fingers hold onto his face and she kisses him again. He draws her into him, box of cookies in one hand and the other on her waist as he kicks the door shut.

He leaves the cookies on the first surface he finds and continues to kiss her. She climbs onto him, fuelled by the kiss and her burning need for him. He swirls them around, holding tightly onto her as he kisses her back, tongue slipping into her mouth, hugging her tightly to his chest.

Breaking away, he smiles, chuckling into her mouth accompanied by soft languid kisses, feeling her solid body with both his hands. "I missed you," he says, spinning her around.

She laughs, relieved and happy in his arms. Her fingers caressing his face, her blue eyes steadily on his, a smile of wonderment on her face as she says, "I love you."

He grins, wide and bright, spinning around in his living room as they kiss in soft, gentle pecks. "I love you too."

"I am pretty lovable," she remarks offhandedly, her hands holding onto his bicep as they fall onto the couch.

"You are," he kisses her. "You are, you are," he peppers her neck with kisses, letting her fall onto her back.

She giggles, pulling him over her and kissing him senseless as her hands run along his naked back.

"You've officially made this the best Christmas ever," he murmurs into her skin, her eyes close, revelling in the sensations he's bringing to her.

"It's not Christmas yet," she playfully tells him, her warm breath hitting his cheek before she kisses along his jaw and up to his earlobe.

He aches into her, holding the back of her neck in his palm, he moves them upwards, bringing her onto his lap. "I don't see how anything could beat having you in my arms again."

"Challenge accepted," she whispers, grinning and nose touching as she dives in to kiss him on his lips.

He meets her mouth, eager to kiss her as much as possible, his hands go to her backside, bringing her closer into him and she moans, hovering above him, palms on his jaw and her hips lining with his.

Her eyes open, looking into his, their lips barely touching and their breathes mixing.

He wasn't expecting her when he'd opened the door, he's unbelievably happy that it was her.

Her fingers slide down his chest and she kisses his neck, laying butterfly kisses and teeth grazing his bare skin, biting and sucking while his hand tangles in her hair and he groans, holding her tight against him before pulling her away.

She stares at him quizzing as he tries to catch his breath. "Didn't that feel good?"

"Of course it did," he breathes out, trying to regain his sense and holding her waist down onto him. "So good. Just dizzy. Jugular, bobcat," he explains, exhaling a light chuckle and tucking her hair behind her ear. "God, it felt so good," he assures, caressing her hands. "But kinda need the blood to keep circulating to my brain if I wanna keep up with you."

"Oh," she softly lets out, small smile on her lips.

He grins, hands moving to her thighs. "There's lots of other places you can bite."

"Yeah?" She grins, fingers sprawled against his abs.

He hums, kissing her nose. "If you have time?"

"We have all the time," she kisses him on the mouth. "I'm not going anywhere."

His head cocks to the side and he looks at her with surprise, "Does that mean no curfew?"

She straightens up a bit and shakes her head. "Oh, no, sheriff's terms and conditions still apply. I just meant, you know, in general."

He nods, wide smile as he kisses her, again and again. He never tires of kissing Veronica Mars. "I'm so glad you're here."

She licks her lips, staring into his eyes with unbridled love and tells him, "So am I."