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The Mistletoe Effect IV. Spike & Lynda

Summary:

Festive One Shot. The effect of mistletoe on Spike & Lynda at the newsroom of the Junior Gazette. Set in a Series 2 Christmas.

Work Text:

“Ho, ho, ho, and a very Merry Christmas to all!” Spike announced as he made a sweeping entrance into the offices of the Junior Gazette. “I considered buying presents for everybody, but then I said to myself, ‘Self’, I said, ‘What better gift to give the beautiful young ladies of the newsroom than the simple pleasure of getting a look at yours truly?’, and for the guys, of course, the chance to learn from me how to be cool and charismatic enough to pull your very own Christmas cracker,” he half-joked, much to the amusement of almost everyone, with the notable exception of course of Lynda Day.

“Kenny, tell Graphics they’ve got five minutes to get the centre-spread drafts to me or I’ll be eating their heads with the Christmas turkey!” Lynda yelled across the room in her usual shrill tone.

“Yes, Boss,” her deputy responded dutifully as he politely went and asked Sam to quicken her pace with the items his Editor and best friend was requesting.

“Oh, now, what is this in my pocket?” Spike said with fake thought as he pulled the mistletoe from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Well, would you look at that.”

“Yes, look, everybody,” Lynda smiled overly-sweetly as Spike approached her, mistletoe in hand. “It’s a pretty piece of parasitic rubbish... and it’s brought us some mistletoe.”

“Ooh, that one got me,” Spike mimed being shot, his hand going to his chest, “right in the heart!”

“Get over yourself, Thompson, and try doing some work for a change, would you?” she urged him, hurrying around her desk and shuffling papers.

“Come on, Boss,” Spike chased after her. “Don’t you wanna be the first to use me, I mean, my mistletoe, to your full advantage?” he asked, with his best sexy look. He expected a negative response as it was all he ever seemed to get. He was somewhat stunned when Ms Day stood straight and looked him right in the eye.

“Sure, why not?” she said simply, reaching to take the mistletoe from his hand. Spike was just about to say he totally believed in Christmas miracles when he suddenly realised he was the only one out of the two of them who looked prepared for a kiss. In fact, Lynda had by now turned her back on him and was calling across the room to someone else.

“Frazz? Could you come here a moment please?” she yelled across the lazy boy who sighed as he brought his feet down off his desk and lumbered over to her.

“Yes, Lynda,” he said dutifully, though he looked entirely bored.

“I just wanted to say, Merry Christmas, Frazz,” she smiled in a way that kind of scared him, but not half so much as when she held the mistletoe over his head and leant in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Spike” Lynda grinned as she tossed the plant back his way, and walked off across the office.

Frazz put his hand to his cheek, looking completely baffled as he muttered to himself, barely noticing when Spike charged by him almost knocking him over.

“Okay, fine!” the American yelled, catching Lynda’s attention, before grabbing the back of Tiddler’s chair and spinning her around to face him. “Hey Tids, I wanna wish you a very Merry Christmas,” he told her, holding the mistletoe above their heads and kissing her momentarily on the lips.

Tiddler was swung back round in her chair a second later, and blushed profusely as she faced her typewriter, eyes wide and breath completely knocked out of her by what had just occurred.

Lynda glared at the boy who would dare to mess with her. Just as she started to get both angry at being out-done, and panicky at losing any kind of game or challenge, Colin happened to walk by from his office.

“Colin!” she made him physically jump as he came to a halt and turned to look at her.

“Lynda, I can explain where the money went,” he began rambling, as was his habit. “I just added up the figures in the wrong column, and when I tried to...”

“Colin!” Lynda snapped, stopping him mid-sentence. “I don’t want to talk about the money,” she told him, though she made a mental note to do so later since it seemed he may have screwed up yet again.

“You don’t?” the fidgety Financial Director checked nervously. “Then what do you want?”

“To wish you a Merry Christmas,” Lynda said, her fake sickly sweet smile fixed on her face as she internally winced, leaning in to kiss Colin full on the lips, mistletoe be damned. Her eyes never left Spike’s across the room.

When the unlikely couple parted a few seconds later, Colin appeared to no longer know what day it was, it was unlikely he even cared right now as Lynda walked back to her desk, not-so-subtly wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. The look she gave Spike as she sat down in her chair was a complete challenge and the American knew he had to rise to it, such was the nature of their twisted pseudo-relationship.

“Hey, Sarah!” Spike called to her just as soon as she came into the room.

She really wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening til Spike was right in front of her, grabbing her up in his arms and kissing her with a passion. Though he’d startled her, she wasn’t about to push him off or anything, after all, every girl with a pulse dreamt of snogging Spike Thompson, she suspected there may even be a few boys who felt the same, after all this was the 1990s!

A few moments later when she was once again permitted to breathe, Sarah felt positively giddy as Spike let go of her and shot a look at Lynda that the blonde didn’t even notice. She was thoroughly overwhelmed, but in the best possible way.

Lynda’s eyes narrowed to slits as she watched the display before her. She didn’t blame Sarah, she didn’t even really blame Spike... no wait a second, she did blame Spike! He’d brought that damn mistletoe in here, expecting her to just fall at his feet and want to be all over him, simply because it’s Christmas and he was dangling a stupid green and white plant in front of her face.

‘As if I’d want to kiss that dumb American anyway!’ she thought to herself, though she knew deep inside that was exactly what she wanted to do. She knew it was incredibly stupid, but she currently despised Tiddler, Sarah, and any other girl Spike had ever put his lips near. It stunned her that she felt so violently jealous, and yet she was not about to admit it.

“Kenny!” she practically screamed for his attention and he duly popped his head out of the Graphics Room where he was still in talks with Sam over the centre-spread. Spike watched with amusement, she could see him out of the corner of her eye, but Lynda wasn’t about to do what he expected. She leant over her desk and scribbled something down, folding the piece of paper and handing it to Kenny just as soon as he approached her desk.

“Give that to Spike!” she ordered, and though he was frowning the Assistant Editor did as he was told, in fear for what would happen if he didn’t.

Without a word the note was passed from Lynda to Spike via Kenny and the short letter was read in similar silence as various members of the Junior Gazette staff looked on in interest and amusement.

“You’re a sick puppy, Lynda Day!” Spike shot at her, before storming out of the building, apparently not in the best of moods.

‘Da Boss’ just smirked, looking pleased with herself before carrying on with the task of running her newspaper.

* * * * *

Spike was pretty sure he’d never been this cold in his entire life. He had to be crazy to be out here in the middle of nowhere in the freezing British winter air. All this for the sake of a woman, he sickened himself right now, but what could he do? In pursuit of Lynda Day, for the love of this woman, there was almost nothing he wouldn’t do.

He checked his watch, she was ten minutes later than she’d said, which was ironic for a woman that was such a stickler for deadlines. Sam was frequently threatened with her head being parboiled for not having her roughs ready on time, and Colin was usually in fear for his life for not having submitted the financial report by the given date and time.

“Come on, Lynda!” he complained, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his breath blew out like smoke into the cold night air.

“What’s the matter, Spike?” she asked as she appeared behind him, causing him to spin around so fast he almost knocked himself over. “Afraid I won’t be worth the wait?” she joked, as she joined him beneath the tree in the moonlit park.

“The thought never entered my head,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I was just afraid if I got frost-bite and things started to drop off, well, y’know, it’s only you that’s gonna get disappointed,” he smirked wickedly, as Lynda rolled her eyes.

“Calm yourself down, Spike,” she warned him. “Unless you really do want to lose something vital.”

“Yes, ma am,” he nodded once, mock saluting too for added effect. “You wanna tell me now why I’m out here freezin’ my butt off under a tree?”

“Have you looked up, even once?” Lynda asked him, watching as he did just that.

The tree she’d had him standing under, waiting under for the past ten minutes and more, was full to bursting with an infestation of mistletoe.

“We had the party games in the newsroom, that was fine,” she told him, stepping in so close that when he looked back at her Spike realised they were suddenly nose to nose, “but I thought perhaps you’d like your present in private,” she almost whispered as she pushed herself forward and put her lips to his.

“Wow, that was some present,” Spike remarked when they parted several minutes later, neither of them feeling the cold any longer.

“Well, make the most of it,” Lynda told him, finding it difficult since she was lacking in breath after that kiss which had even surprised her in it’s intensity. “It’s a long wait to next Christmas,” she smiled, patting Spike’s cheek as his mouth dropped open.

A whole year til he got another kiss like that?! He couldn’t believe she’d be so cruel. Then he recalled who he was thinking of. Oh yes, Miss Lynda Day definitely could be that cruel, but he suspected that long before next Christmas she’d be kissing him again. She was warming up to him just nicely, his charms were winning her over bit by bit, and thanks to the mistletoe he’d just made a giant leap of progress.

“Merry Christmas to you, Spike, my man!” he said to himself as he followed Lynda out of the park, knowing the wait out here and the cold had been worth it, every second.

 

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