ANOTHER YEAR LATER

Anna is stuck down the chimney.

Legs braced against one side, back pressed up against the opposite one, she feels very much like screaming, but that's never a good thing to do in the dead of night, so instead she settles for staring daggers at the brick directly in front of her.

 God, isn't this supposed to get easier the more times you do it?

After a few more struggles that quickly cease when she realises that she can very easily fall if she moves a little too much and that will not end well at all. From a slightly lower point down the blasted chimney, maybe. At this height - not a chance.

She sighs.

And waits.

And waits.

(Okay, so she's not actually sure what exactly she's waiting for, but she's thinking something along the lines of a miracle? A Christmas miracle. Aren't those a thing? They are, right?)

She doesn't know how long she's been stuck in the chimney when a familiar voice drifts up to her, although it is long enough for her back, feet, and butt to be in a lot of pain (a lot), and her to have started letting out a steady and continuous stream of curse words that were intended to be under her breath but have probably ended up far louder.

"You okay up there?" the voice asks, laced with amusement.

"Shut up and help me down," she grits out, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of him.

Jonathan laughs, but quickly silences at the growl that Anna emits. "Okay, okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna jump - "

"What? Are you crazy?" 

" - and I'm gonna catch you."

"Catch me?" she repeats incredulously.

"Catch you," he says in a serious tone of voice. 

"No way," she begins to shake her head vigorously, but ceases almost immediately upon realising that her body is also moving as she does so and she's in a very precarious position in which bodies should move as little as possible.

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Anna bites her lip. Obviously, she doesn't. But, really? Can Jonathan even see up the chimney well enough to catch her? What if he doesn't? Oh God, what if he does and she ends up being too heavy and - 

"I thought not," Jonathan has clearly taken her silence to mean she is idea-less (is that even a word?), and she is, but still, she does not think this is a good idea. Like, at all. 

"Anna," Jonathan says. "Do you trust me?"

Anna blinks. "What?"

"Do you trust me?"

She frowns. "Of course I - wait. Hold on. Just because I trust you doesn't mean I want to jump down a chimney into your arms!"

"Alright then," Jonathan sighs. "Guess you'll just have to stay there..."

Anna groans, letting her head fall back onto the brick behind her and then wincing because brick actually really hurts. "Fine," she relents. "But if I break anything, you're using your expertise as a medical student to heal me up."

"Of course," he agrees. "Ready?"

"No."

"On three, okay?"

"I feel like that's a rhetorical question..."

"One - "

"Say, isn't there a better way for me to get down this chimney? I'm sure we can work out a - "

"Two - "

"- way to get me down that has less possibly fatal consequ - "

"Three!"

Why me, Anna thinks as she lets her limbs go loose and allows gravity to work its magic. Why me why me why me.

Jonathan does catch her, of course, being that kind of almost frustratingly reliable person who would catch you when you get stuck down a chimney, but it isn't enough to keep the scowl from her face, just because.

"Hey," he says amusedly, looking down at her and raising an eyebrow at her frown. "I caught you, see?"

"Oh, I see, alright," she grumbles, hopping quickly out of his arms. "I still think we could've come up with a better plan of action - "

"That probably would've taken years to carry out," Jonathan finishes, yawning. 

"I think years is overstretching it slightly - "

"Anna," he follows her and wraps both arms around her middle. She lets herself relax into him slightly, feeling his heartbeat against her back. "I caught you, didn't I? No harm done."

"No harm done," she murmurs, a little dizzy from his touch. She feels him rest his chin on top of her head. 

"Want some cookies?"

"Yeah," she grins. "You bet I do."

"Good, 'cause I made some specially for you," he sings, pulling away and heading to the kitchen table and picking up the plate resting on it, holding it out to her. They're not iced, but are large and look soft. Carefully, Anna takes one and bites into it, moaning in delight at the taste.

"Oh my God," she sighs through a mouthful. "What have you put in these?"

"Raspberry and white chocolate," he replies, smiling slightly. "Keep moaning like that and I can't be held responsible for any action I may take."

Anna flushes bright red and, lacking a response (apart from maybe something the lines of you are very free to take any action at all believe me like actually please do in fact I will probably beg you to take actions you can't be held responsible for), continues to shove more of the cookie into her mouth. 

"How's Nick?" Jonathan changes the subject with a smirk. 

"Fine," she swallows the last of her cookie. "Actually doing his job tonight."

"So you're here all evening?" he arches a brow, and she feels like punching him because really? Twice? She's literally only been here seven minutes altogether (well, not counting the time spent up his chimney) and she already wants to jump his - 

"Anna?"

"Sorry. Uh, yes. All night. Evening! I'm here all evening."

"Good," he gives her a shy smile and she can feel her heart practically melting. "I'm - uh - I'm glad," he fumbles, and she thinks how amazing it is that he can be coy and flirty one second and completely shy the next. A true wonder of nature.

"Me too," she murmurs. They hold each others' gaze for a few seconds longer, before Anna shifts and clears her throat, looking away. "So, med school, huh?"

"How'd you guess?" 

"You finished college last year, didn't you?"

"I could've not gotten in," he argues.

"Please," she scoffs. "Don't pretend like you're not smart. You were on a - what did you say it was called? A scholarboat?"

Jonathan laughs. "Scholarship," he corrects, still chortling. 

"Close enough," she waves off. "How is it?"

"Hard," he says in a rueful tone of voice, sitting down at the table. Anna follows suit. "But...I don't know. I enjoy it, I think. Mom kept asking if medicine was what I wanted to do and sometimes I'd think that maybe I wasn't sure, but...now, I am," he looks up, eyes bright. "Like, it's so great, you know? Being able to help people and make them feel better and just putting a smile on their face, I guess."

"Yeah," she says softly, studying him carefully.

"Sometimes it's hard to explain to people," Jonathan continues. "Like, they don't really get it," he looks at her. "But I think you do," he tells her.

"Me?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Because you do the same thing. You and Nick. Your whole job is just about...making people happy."

"But that's different," Anna shakes her head with a frown. "You...you make people better. You save lives. All Nick and I do is just...give presents out."

"What's the point in saving a life if it's not worth living?" he quirks a brow. 

"We hardly make life worth living - "

"Of course you do," Jonathan shakes his head. "Christmas brings people together. It makes them happy. Seriously, if you just see Flynn's face when he opens his presents in the morning you'll be humming a completely different tune," he grins. "That boy lives on presents, I swear."

"He's..." Anna pauses to count the years out in her head. "Ten, now?"

"Yeah," Jonathan's smile widens. "Getting big, huh?"

"Next thing you know he'll be a grown man," she says with a sad smile, and she looks at Jonathan, really looks at him. 

All pretenses of him being something even near a teenager, maybe with a foot in his teenage years and a foot in his adulthood, is gone. He's grown into himself - seven years ago, he tripped over his own arms and legs, but now he moves smoothly - calmly even, sure of himself and of things around him. His face still holds its inherent softness, but the features have sharpened out and defined themselves. It's cliché, she knows, but she thinks that the only things that hasn't really changed are his eyes. Still the same. 

"Anna?" he pauses in his recount of what Flynn did the other night. "Are you...crying?"

"No," she laughs, but it sounds strangled. "You know, tears have to be involved for me to be crying, McQueen."

"Right," he murmurs, studying her. "Still. You look...sad."

"Me?" Anna chokes out. "I - I'm fine...oh God, have I ever told you how..."

"How?"

"I can't..." she takes a deep breath. "You're amazing, you know that? Have I ever told you that? How totally amazing you are?"

"Pretty sure you were screaming it quite a few times last time..." he gives her a cheeky grin, but it slides off his face at the sight of her expression. "Okay, you're serious. What brought this on?"

She brings a hand up to brush his cheek, letting it move up into his hair and watching how he closes his eyes at her touch. "Nothing," she says in a shaky whisper. "Just...you're amazing, okay? Remember that for me."

He opens his eyes and looks at her steadily. "You're thinking about it again," he says quietly. 

"It?" 

"The aging," he gives her a smile, and isn't it just like Jonathan, to always smile even when there's nothing to smile about? He moves closer, pressing his forehead against hers. "Don't," he whispers.

"You don't understand," she responds. "I - you don't see yourself, Jonathan. Every year you're older and I'm just...not. I'm still here. Stuck."

"You're not stuck - "

"I am!" she pulls away, giving him an urgent look. "Of course I am! Look at me, Jonathan! Just look. What are you going to wait for? Something that's never going to happen?"

"You're not stuck," he repeats calmly. "And even if you are, I'm stuck with you. Who do you take me for, Anna? Someone to just leave you at the drop of a hat?"

"No, of course not," she replies. "But how long are you going to wait, Jonathan? Are you going to let yourself waiting for an evening each year?"

"Anna..." he trails off, brows furrowed. "It's not like that. You know that. You're more than that to me."

"What is it like, then?" she chokes out. She doesn't tell him about her worst nightmare, about how one day she'll jump down his chimney and he won't be there. That she'll fly around the world looking for him and find a slab of stone with his name carved on it instead.

"It's different," he responds insistently. "You're different. Anna, I lo- "

"I'm sorry," she blurts out, too scared of the words she thinks were about to come out of his mouth. She's not ready for them. He's not ready for them. He can't say them, not when...not when he's an adult and she's... "I shouldn't have brought it up."

He gives her a confused look. "Anna..."

Anna tugs him to her before he can say anything else, buries her head in his shoulder and breathes in brown sugar and wood smoke. "Way to ruin our evening, huh?" she murmurs.

He responds almost immediately, wrapping his arms around her and enveloping her with his warmth. "You didn't," he hums. "Don't think it's possible to ruin your own evening. Well, an evening about you. You know what I mean."

"It's not my evening, I'm not even delivering the presents," she reminds him.

"So? Still your evening. Who d'you think I'm waiting up for? Santa Claus?"

She laughs and kisses him to forget the ache in her chest.

_______________________________________________________________________

a/n: hahahHHAHAHAHA BYE

five chapters left shit's gettin real but hey who knows how this might turn out not me

jk i do im the author 

dedication for ivey bc shes been waitin for this literally all day luv u xoxo

vote and comment and tell me what you think! the amount of support on this story (and marriage proposals jonathan has received...) is honestly amazing, considering christmas is well and truly over. i love you all.

- mariam