Dreaming of a White Christmas
A/N: Requested by @aimkatsz, I’m sorry it’s a bit late but I hope you enjoy it! Absolute pure fluff, bit of writer’s liberty taken.
Plot: Christmas Three Things Prompt #8 - ice skating, pine trees, knitted socks
The pine scent is heavy, as she walks through the house. She yelps, something smacking her in the face.
“Sorry, hung that one a bit low.”
“Juice,” she begins, pulling the scarf away to see at least fifty car deoderisers, little trees hanging from strings above her. “What is going on?”
“Shh, baby, don’t lose the moment. It’s the middle of winter, it’s cold, we’re walking through a forest.”
Of these three things, two of them are true. Charming is in the midst of winter, the frost coming down off the mountains. Not quite cold enough for snow, but Juice rugs up on the bike now, and she makes cocoa in the evenings when he’s home. It’s a rare day that he’s home, and she looks forward to the afternoon plans Juice has made for them. She doesn’t expect this.
He moves her through the house, and she’s smiling, tries to work out what his plan is. She’s come home from doing some Christmas shopping, and Juice excitedly pulls her in to the living room, covering her eyes and leads her down the hall. The pine smell, the snow jacket he’s draped over her; unless he’s taking her to the snow and this is his roundabout way of telling her, she’s out of ideas.
She’s mentioned a few times how she wants to go to the snow, take a holiday, do all the cliche things one does when it snows. The thing she wants most is to go skating. There’s promises to take her, but she and Juice both know that won’t be happening for a while, not with club business. But it’s fun to dream and plan, for better times ahead.
He asks what she wants for Christmas, takes notes of the things she looks at while out shopping, things mentioned, but he knows exactly what she desires. So he makes it happen. Long nights out in the garage. He can’t do it without her knowing he’s up to something, but he can ban her from the double wide garage, knowing she’ll keep her promise not to look. He can send her out that day so he can set up it without her seeing, give her the full effect of the surprise. Hours of measuring, cutting, fixing, Googling. All for this moment, all worth it.
He gets to see her eyes light up, little tears forming in the corners as she tries to focus on the scene before her and not lose it behind the blur. When she spots the homemade ice rink in the backyard, she puts it all together. Trying to find the words between “how did you-” and “why-”.
“But I don’t have any ice skates!”
Juice chuckles, turning her to face him. “You really think I’m gonna make my baby her own ice rink and not buy her some skates?”
He heads off down the steps, pulling up a brand new pair, gesturing her to come down. She skips down the steps, treads across the grass to him, letting Juice sit her down. Her ankles rock loosely in the skates as she puts them on.
“They’re a bit big, I’ll have to go get more socks real quick!” She’s so excited, she nearly falls over in the skates as she tries to get to the house.
Juice chuckles, catching her, and reaches into his coat pocket. He pulls out a rolled up ball of… Something. Handing it to her, she pulls it apart, a pair of thick knitted socks. She beams, and they both get prepared to hit the ice.
Juice knows how to skate. Before Charming, California, there was Brooklyn. Brooklyn Christmas looked like shoplifting gifts at the mall, and snowball fights, and ice skating at the local hockey rink. Not all good memories as far as morals go, but to Juice, these were happier times. Those times are being replaced, over and over again as the days tick by with her.
He leads her on to the ice, gives her tips, holds her hands, lets her get her ice legs before hopping off the rink again. Pulling his boots on quickly, she watches as he scales the side of the garage, a large fan perched up on top. Juice flips the switch, and the wind blows down, bringing flurries of fake snow with it.
She delights, her smile wide and laughter full of disbelief. Her arms are stretched out as the snow drifts over her. She doesn’t see it right away, but Juice is snapping pictures of his girl like it’s her own winter Vogue cover shoot. When she does see him, she laughs again, and gestures him over to wrap him in her arms. He hugs her before pulling away again, and she clings to his arm.
“Just one more photo, I promise.”
The camera is set to 10 seconds, Juice sprints back to her, almost sliding on the ice. He doesn’t have time to put his skates back on, just enough time to slide his arms around her and smile at the beaming face that he gets to kiss, before the camera goes off and he catches another memory to hold dear to on the nights when he’s away.
