Chapter Text
“Absolutely not,” Shaun spat. He stood with his arms crossed, red-faced and exasperated. “You are not putting that—that stuff—anywhere near my workspace. I need a clean, clutter-free environment to focus properly. No twinkle lights, no tiny novelty stockings with my name on, and definitely none of that.” He pointed accusingly at the sprig in her hand.
“Lighten up Shaun, it’s just mistletoe,” [Y/N] responded. “Everyone else is getting into the holiday spirit. Look, Rebecca has put twinkle lights on Baby!”
Shaun huffed. “If Rebecca wants to decorate her workspace with a fire hazard, that’s her choice. I wish Desmond the best of luck with his next Animus session—”
“Hey!” Rebecca protested.
“—but I want my desk to remain empty. I will decorate it myself later on if I decide I can handle the distraction.”
“Oh, alright,” she conceded. She put the bundle of mistletoe on a filing cabinet and pointed at him. “But mark my words, Hastings: I’ll put you in the holiday spirit yet. You’ll be singing carols and wearing ugly sweaters in no time!” She cackled and bounded into the kitchen; Shaun watched her with a confused—and slightly fearful—look on his face.
“Shit, Shaun,” Desmond remarked. “I bet if you just let her hang the mistletoe, she’ll leave you alone. What’s the big deal? Afraid of having to kiss her? Are you out of practice, or are you just that bad at it?”
“I happen to be a fine kisser, thank you,” he scoffed. “I just don’t want a repeat of the year that Rebecca pelted me with fake snow and it got stuck in my keyboard. It took hours to pick out those pieces between the cracks in the keys. I had to use tweezers.”
“And I had to listen to him gripe the whole time,” Rebecca chimed in.
“Besides,” Shaun continued, pretending not to hear Rebecca. “It’s only December 2nd. Why does it need to look like Santa, his elves, and all the reindeer exploded in here?”
“Because it’s fun,” Rebecca said. “Don’t be such a Grinch, Shaun.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “Come on. I think she’s making cookies.”
“I’m there!” Desmond pulled on a bright red Santa hat and sauntered out of the room.
Rebecca looked at Shaun. “You coming?”
“In a minute. Save some cookie dough for me?”
“No promises. You know Desmond’s a huge sweet tooth.”
Rebecca followed Desmond, leaving Shaun alone next to his desk. He glanced at the mistletoe on the filing cabinet and picked it up, holding it gently in his hand as he sat down onto his stool. He chuckled; as annoyingly chipper as [Y/N] was, Shaun had to admit that he admired her efforts to cheer them up and make them forget their dire situation.
Even if her way of cheering him up was apparently trying to con him into kissing her.
Shaun opened a desk drawer and pulled out a snow globe with a tiny model of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament inside. He placed it on his desk, next to the monitor, and gazed wistfully as the “snow” fell on London.
“Hey Shaun, hurry up! Desmond has eaten almost all of the cookie dough!” he heard Rebecca call from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” [Y/N] yelled. “Get in here if you want to lick my spoon!” He heard her and Rebecca burst into giggles.
Shaun rolled his eyes and rose from his seat. He made it halfway to the kitchen before he remembered he was still holding the mistletoe. He turned back to his desk and sat it next to the snow globe. His lips quirked into a small smile as he noticed how nice it looked there, and he stared at it for a moment.
“Shaun!” She called again after him. He looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, holding a wooden spoon that was covered in dense, sugary dough.
“I’ll be right there.” His smile broadened—just a little—and he walked to her, taking the spoon out of her hand as he joined them in the kitchen.