I'll be your Gypsy Lane

For the lovely random_nexus-- this is inexcusably late and is my usual long-winded left-field take on the actual request and isn't even properly smutty (or not in any satisfactory way, though there is a smexy part) even though I hinted that it would be and please don't shoot me because ending where it did felt logical. And um, yeah. MADE WITH LOVE.

The request was fluff, snow, hot chocolate, surprises. Holiday plans going all wrong in a way that turns out so very right... which I sort of managed.

( All That's Missing is Alan Rickman and Some Terrorists (Five Times Christmas Went Wrong, Except Not) )

This, THIS, is the Drabble That Ate Prague. In that it's not a drabble at all because it very seriously got away from me. And is a not-so-holiday-themed bundle of holiday joy (I hope) for our very own apple fritter of awesome, who_is_small, who will hopefully forgive that this is probably not the interpretation of the prompt she might have expected, and also the dental bills caused by the tooth-rotting fluffitude that ensues. Maybe the smutty part will make up for it. ;)

ETA: Oh, and there's an accidental bit of an Upstairs Downstairs crossover. Pay it no mind, it doesn't know any better and has no real bearing on this fic at all.

( A Decent Proposal )

A somewhat cracky little giftie for the lovely queen_fiend, who asked: Does Madeline ever find out about Spode's Eulalie thing? What does she think? and who is obviously awesome because she got me to kinda sorta write het. :D

( Eulalie and the Kitten )