A Little Bit More

Toby Martin around Christmas time is not a force to be reckoned with, Allison thinks grimly.

Maybe it's the fervor with which he attacks every single storefront in New York City, pressing his nose up against the glass and already halfway to the door before Lydia and Allison have even taken notice of his absence from their little group. Or else it might be the mind-blowing enthusiasm with which he pulls them into the nearest Macy's to see Santa. Otherwise, it's how excited he gets when they finally near Rockefeller Plaza and he positively drags them across the street (very nearly causing them to get hit by a couple of disgruntled cabbies) to see the gigantic Christmas tree erected in front of the Rockefeller Center. One of the three.

To Allison's left, Lydia heaves an exasperated sigh and trails after Toby into the Christmas Cottage. Allison follows close behind, trying to keep her eyes from straying to Lydia's (admittedly very toned) rear end. She's not really one to check out her best friend, but the leggings she's donned in favor of the cold weather are...well, let's just say Allison never really questions her sexuality until Winter!Lydia has broken out.

"Seventy-five dollars?"

Allison groans. Here they go again.

The past couple of hours have mainly consisted of Toby wandering into the shops and Lydia and Allison trailing after him like a couple of incensed parents. Then Toby proceeds to examine about two-thirds of the respective store's inventory, earn himself a couple of disproving stares as he nearly drops yet another fabriche Santa, loudly question the validity of the prices of every single item in the goddamn store, and then leave, much to the contentment of whichever shop-owner they've bothered for the past twenty minutes. Then the cycle repeats all over again.

"Allison, this nutcracker is seventy-five dollars," Toby says, brandishing the sixteen-inch decoration in her face. She swats him away.

"Some girls who would crack even your nuts for less," Lydia tells him earnestly, carefully setting a small, glittery tree topper back on its designated shelf. Toby splutters for a minute, his cheeks and ears going pink, then busies himself with restoring the nutcracker to its original place. As Lydia turns back to face Allison, she's smirking.

When they finally venture out into the hustle and bustle of New York City's finest procrastinators (Christmas is two days away, what sort of people go shopping for Christmas gifts two days before one of the biggest holidays of the year? "Simpletons," Lydia had told her when prompted), it is to find that a light dusting of snow has begun to coat the sidewalk and is falling in even more rapidity from the overcast sky above them.

Naturally, Toby's face lights up (annoyingly enough (okay. Maybe it's not annoying. Maybe it's endearing) (Just a little bit) (Maybe)) and he's dumping all of his bags into Allison's arms and taking off down the sidewalk, careening between shoppers and stopping every couple of feet to apologize to whomever he just knocked over. Allison and Lydia follow him, Lydia shooting Allison a look she can't exactly return under the weight of all of Toby's purchases.

They've stopped to apologize profusely to about four different people by the time Toby comes to a stop at the end of the street, a little breathless, but looking otherwise far more jubilant than is appropriate. Lydia is scowling, brushing small white flakes out of her red hair and glaring down the street as though the entire city of New York is to blame for the awful weather and the awful company she has to endure for the rest of the evening.

"We should probably get back," Toby says thoughtfully a minute later, reaching out to dust a couple of snowflakes out of Allison's hair. Her cheeks burn.

"My place?" Lydia asks.

"Your place," the other two concede.

And so they're off; the moment they start moving, Allison drops all of Toby's bags back into his arms and strolls ahead of him with Lydia right next to her. Toby - who had initially attempted to feign weakness to get the other to to help him with the load - is managing his acquisitions just fine it seems, until a large box of ornaments slips from its precarious position at the tip-top of one of the bags and slides towards the sidewalk. Toby lunges for it, scattering the rest of his bags across the pavement, but the box hits the walk and every single ornament inside of it shatters.