AN: Christmas is my favorite time of year, so this year I could write just one Christmas fic. I wrote twenty four ( though not all are Christmas specific.) I had a blast writing these and I'm excited to count the day till Christmas Eve with them. They're all different ships and different AUs - kid fic, college AU, *whispers* Hogwarts AU*whispers* - so basically, like a real Advent calendar, you'll never quite know what you'll get.

Enjoy!

The Advent Calendar

Polar Bear

Mike & Augustus

It is cold.

Like, really freakin cold.

Overnight, snow dumped itself everywhere. Outside his window, Mike heard the trucks come around at all hours of the night, their headlights beaming across his room as they drove last, providing a little more light than the video game on his phone he was playing in bed til 2 am. He should have gone to bed earlier, but he assumed that the constant trucking meant that there was no remote possibility of school for at least tomorrow. So he can play for however the hell long he wants.

But that wasn't the case. His alarm blares at the same time of 6:00 am. If school was canceled or delayed, his mother would have come in and shut it off for him before going back to bed herself for another four hours.

When he stumbles out of bed that morning into the living/dining room, Norman and Doris look their normal teacher selves, so that just confirmed that there would, in fact, be school that day.

"Sorry, Mikey," Doris says weakly, as she butters and jams one side of her English muffin as he sits down between them and grabs the Fruity Pebbles to dump in the bowl.

He eats breakfast with them before Norman and Doris get in the car to drive to the high school for work as normal. He has half an hour to mentally prepare himself for going to school when he really, really, really doesn't want to. He dresses himself in his winter uniform of dark jeans and a tee shirt layered over a long sleeved one. The weather man on the TV tells him that it is almost 13 degrees outside from the living room and so Mike pulls out two pairs of socks and stuffs his feet into his boots. He suits up in his jacket, his hat that covered his ear and gloves before pulling up his backpack.

He's ready as he will ever get.

When he steps out into the frozen wasteland that is this town right now, he is not prepared for the blistering wind that rushes by and chills him even more. He waits outside for the bus, jogging into place even if it's dorky but is also incredibly cold.

He sighs with relief when the bus pulls up at the stop sign and scoops him up from the unbearable coldness. He aims to get the seat behind the heat so his forty five minute drive in this ice box on wheels is not so fricking miserable but already some smirking jerk has taken it so he sits down in the seat behind him.

Mike curls himself closer into his jacket and plugs in his iPod , staring off to the snow-covered suburbs while listening to his rock playlist.

When they pull up into town, on the corner of Linden and Fir Street to pick up the kids who live in the apartments and townhouses lining the streets there, Mike watches his fellow inmates waddle up the bus stairs and down the aisle, hindered by thick coats and snow covered boats. They are all snuggled up in scarves and hats and mittens and all look so disappointed that they have to haul their asses to school this morning.

Except for the last kid, who, Mike notes, waddles without wearing a coat.

(And he's not.)

That's what floor Mikes. Gus Gloop, on the coldest day of the year, is coming up the aisle behind kids resembling Kenny from South Park, has his red jacket wide open, showing off the turtleneck and knitted sweater vest that is his winter uniform. But other than that, the guy is wearing nothing else winter appropriate. Thick, wooly socks yes, but nothing 's eyes pan down so see that Gus decided to wear his Birkenstocks (gross) and capris. Frickin capris.

Gus' blond hair is powered with snow, his cheeks look ruddy, his nose looks like a cherry or some other poetic way to say he looks cold. But his cavalier nature is bothersome. Like he doesn't give a damn it's like eight degrees out.

He just plops himself down in the set across from Mike and gives something of a wave with his glove-less hand. He then pulls out his lunch box and takes out a granola bar.

Mike takes out his earbuds and Gus looks over at him because when Mike takes out his earbuds it means he wants to talk."What's the matter, Michael? What's with the face?"

"This face," Mike snorts, "is from the fact you're dress like you're going on a cruise in the dead of winter. What's with the shorts?"

"The . . . shorts?" Gus has a mouthful of granola when he says that but swallows and looks down at his pants. "Oh! Yes, I was warm."

"Warm? In the tundra?" Mike repeats incredulously.

"Yes. The sweater was too much for me to meet to wear long pants today." He shrugs. "I don't get cold very easily."

"So I noticed" Mike snorts and it's from then on he's convinced his friend is literally a polar bear.