Enorace Oneshots and Short Stories

Christmas Lights and Snowball Fights

Chapter 8: Christmas Lights and Snowball Fights

Synopsis: When a freak heatwave hits Florida on Christmas Eve, the peculiars must turn to the Panloopticon in order to save Christmas

Set: Post-L.O.S, Florida (Horace and Enoch are already out in this chapter)

Genre/s: Fluff

The Christmas presents were all wrapped, the hideous stockings made by Olive and Claire were suck haphazardly above the Portman's electronic fireplace, a plastic Christmas tree had been covered with tinsel and decorations, and yet Horace didn't feel the least bit in a Christmas mood.

He was draped miserably over the couch, his jacket undone and his top hat being used to fan his face. Around him, the others were stretched out on the cool floor like starfish or pressed against the aircon unit, desperately trying to escape the midday Florida heat.

"Oh this is just awful!" Bronwyn lamented.

"It's hell on Earth," Hugh grumped, his bees collapsed on the floor beside him, too hot to stay in his stomach.

"I feel like I'm melting!" Olive wailed, bobbing like a balloon in front of the oscillating fan, drifting further across the room every time it blew towards her.

"For the first time I envy Nullings," Horace agreed. "It must be so much cooler without clothes on."

Enoch scoffed, sprawled on the ground below him. His voice was muffled slightly by the towel wrapped up with ice cubes that he had over his face.

"You're in a three-piece suit you dimwit! Of course you're hotter than Nullings! Just take off some layers and maybe we'll have some sympathy for you."

"And then be hot and horribly dressed?" Horace shuddered, "No thank you."

He went back to fanning himself. Every time he stopped he felt like he was baking alive.

There was a creak of floorboards and the others looked up as Jacob wandered in, frowning down at the strange glass rectangle in his hand that passed as a telephone these days.

"Looks like this heatwave is continuing for the rest of Christmas Eve all the way until the end of Boxing Day," said grimly, "Sorry guys."

"You said it would be Winter for Christmas here too!" cried Claire, her back mouth panting from the heat.

"This is Winter," Jacob assured her, "Just, you know... Florida freak-heatwave winter. And didn't you guys say you wanted to experience an American Christmas?"

"This ain't Christmas," Enoch grumbled, "This is the inside of an oven but with Christmas decorations."

"It's only like 90 degrees out. It's really not that bad."

"There's no snow!" cried Olive.

"And we can't turn on your strange plastic fireplace unless we want to perish of heat stroke!" Millard said, and the others jumped like they'd forgotten he was there.

"Not to mention its far too hot to bake anything!" Horace wailed, "Say goodbye to Christmas pudding and mince tarts! At this rate, Christmas dinner tomorrow will be a complete write-off!"

The others all groaned miserably, shooting Jacob betrayed looks, and Enoch threw an ice cube at him. Just when things were looking grim for Jacob, the door to the living room opened and Miss Peregrine breezed in, followed by Emma, neither of whom looked the slightest bit hot.