Okay so this was supposed to be a one shot for Advent...and then my mind did that thing where it wouldn't shut up and now you are all going to be graced with a mini verse Christmas OQ AU featuring Roni the Barkeep and a handsome new guy in town. (Also this is not beta's so cool your grinch jets if you minds mistakes and let it beeeeeeee)

Chapter One -

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

December 1st:

She loves Christmas. Which most wouldn't have guessed but it's her favourite holiday. The last few days before December 1st inch by torturously slow, teasing her as they trickle minute by minute away until it's actually appropriate that she have holiday decorations up. She spends the entire first day of the Christmas month hanging garland from the bar, lights strung from the pipes on the ceiling, a couple stockings for her most favorite customers, even a sprig of mistletoe on one of the brick archways.

It takes her all day, ensuring everything is perfectly in place, the bar lights changed to a soft white, contrasting the red and green glass shelves that now hold her liquor bottles. It's very festive.

And then there is the tree. Oh her beautiful christmas tree, an absolute treasure to her. This year it's a thick six foot pine, stuffed perfectly into the far corner by the piano, bushy and green, hung with two hundred tiny yellow lights that interlace between its branches, passing by red glass ornaments on every level, methodically placed in particular spots so that none are too close to one another, and there isn't an obvious amount of space between them either. A slight amount of tinsel gets draped around as well, enough to have the lights sparkle against the walls, but not overbearing. She never did understand those people who hucked handfuls of the stuff against their tree's. All finished off with a touch of gold sparking ribbon and voila! It's Christmas time at Roni's.

The amount of pride that swells in her chest when customers walk into the bar come December first, jaws agape and eyes wide open, well it makes her feel some sort of Santa. Bringing Christmas cheer in a part of town that rarely gets much to smile about these days. And yes, sometimes people cast her curious gazes at the over the top decor, but to hell with all of them, she likes it and there is twenty four more days to go, they will just have to get used to it.

Just as she has another year to get used to not having someone to share in all the festivity with. It's not that she needs a man, or woman for that matter to share sweet intimate kisses underneath mistletoe with, but sometimes it crosses her mind that it might be nice. But there hasn't exactly been anyone who has waltzed into her life recently that is actually worth putting in the time and effort over. Sure there was that one guy a little while back, but he was far too sweet and sentimental and while she does want some part of that, puppy love isn't what she is looking for. Perhaps something more adult, where there can be intellectual conversation amongst smacking lips together would be nice.

Next year maybe. It could be her New Year's resolution, to put herself out there and actually make an effort to find someone. She's made it through the bar garland before Elvis Presley had finished crooning Silver Bells, a song she particularly adores. The lights are strung up through its mossy green twine and she about to get started on the fireplace stockings in the corner when the door chimes open, which is odd given that it's eleven am and technically the place doesn't open till 1pm. Around the corner, she spies a dark jacket on a pair of broad square shoulders. She knows pretty much everyone around here, and the sandy brown hair doesn't spark familiarity.

With a wreath in tow, she walks around the side of the archway, apparently invisible to the guy who damn near slams into her as he to turns the corner.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry. " He stumbles, grabbing her waist to steady her before he shakes his head completely embarrassed, "I didn't see you."

There are very very few things in this world that have Roni speechless. And the color of this man's eyes apparently is one of them. They are that bright blue on a cold winter day, when the snow sparkles like diamonds just so against the sky. Her jaw is open, that much she is fully aware of though her brain is still trying to reconnect it's short circuited fuses, and then he smile. And god damn shit, if he doesn't have the most perfect bloody smile she's ever seen. Dimples hidden beneath a light scruff she itches to comb through, soft pink lips she absolutely is not thinking about kissing, and this soft breathless chuckle that escapes him, it all has her knees going to jelly.

"Did I wreck your wreath?" He asks rather guiltily, dipping his chin down so that his eyes part from her's. And she is so, well annoyed that she can't see his gorgeous eyes, that for a moment she doesn't hear his question, but blurts out a rather sharp, "What?" in response.

His eyes flick up to hers, and her heart skips like some schoolgirl crush, damn he is pretty. And before she can make a fool of herself even more, he returns his gaze down to glance between them, particularly to the sandwiched mulch of a once pine green circle and it's crunched up red ribbon thanks to Roni's inability to actually step away from this guy.

"I do hope this doesn't warrant me on the naughty list."

Her eyebrow cocks high in amusement, and he is most certainly the type of guy that she could very easily put on her naughty list, but for a whole different set of reasons. One being the fact that even through the dark cobalt blue of his sweater, she can tell his body is… well maintained. And thanks to the fact that his hands are still technically on her hips, she can feel the reverence of strength in his arms. She always was a sucker for a guy with a nice pair of arms.

Clearing her throat, she smiles, "I'll give you a pass seeings as this is your first offence.", and then she does the thing she swore to hell and back she'd never do. She winks at him. Knowing damn well she can't actually wink properly, it's more of a half face scrunched up blink.

Mortified. She is actually mortified she just fucking winked at him. At a complete stranger who probably thinks she had a momentary seizure or something. God dammit, she is a grown woman, who doesn't take shit from anyone, ever, but apparently a pair of stunning blue eyes and a dimpled smile have her completely off kilter.

"I appreciate it, M'lady." He grins.

M'lady.

The word rings through her ears, and her brow creases as she stares up to scan his face over. It's familiar. The way he said it too. The drawl on the "a" … she has heard it before.

"Is something wrong?"

Biting down on her lip, her head tilts to the side, eyes etching across his features whilst her heart thunders away in her chest. Does she know him? He too seems rather familiar. She swallows against the burn in her chest, "Have we met before?". His eyes dance for a second, a flicker of green passing through them, "I don't think so."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckles, gives her a lopsided grin before leveling her with a look that has all her axises tilting the wrong direction. "Fairly certain yes."

Roni frowns, sulking into the wreath still clung in her hands, it's silly because she knows they haven't met, but something just is different about him, there has to be an explanation for it, right? She just doesn't fumble around for words and be caught like a deer in headlights over just anybody. Well in fact, nobody has ever rendered her quite this incompetent of being an actual conversing human being before. Her whispered "Oh." comes off rather pathetically, and her feet finally decide to step back, but his hand remains gently firm on her hip as he bends his chin down to find her eyes once more.

"It's just, I don't think I'd ever forget meeting you."

Well shit. Handsome and poetic with his words. She's rather glad he stumbled into her bar earlier than the usual crowd, even if he interrupted her annual decorating day.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Whiskey on the rocks would be wonderful."

"Coming right up."

She turns, blushing beyond what is appropriate and heads to the sanctuary of her bar. Where it's safe, and there isn't any random gorgeous british man there invading her space. Not that she is actually sure she'd really mind. Tossing the wreath onto the bar top, she tries really really hard to not get too flustered when she hears the stool on the other side scratch against the floor, nor the light humming voice that echoes about the bar to the new tune of Bing Crosby's "I'll Be Home For Christmas." This is a top five favorite of hers and this man sounds rather sexy singing out the words lowly to himself.

When she spins around to face him, whiskey in tow, he's taking a look around the place, grinning adorably at her decorations, eyeing up her tree with a sparkle before he finally turns all the way around and settles his gaze back on her.

"You've done a wonderful job in here."

"Thank you." She pours his whiskey, and one for herself. "I know it's a bit much."

He shakes his head, casts his eyes about the bar once more with pursed lips and a crease in his brow. "I'd have to disagree." He smiles at her, "It's festive, and happy. What else is Christmas about if not that?"

She shrugs, agrees that he is right and downs her shot quick, taking quick reprieve in the burn that slides down into her stomach, a gracious distraction from the tumbling of her heart at his admiration of her decor. Busing herself wiping down already clean counters and arranging perfectly organized mugs, she does her best to not linger on him. But damn does he have a nicely cut jaw. All stubbled and strong, contrasting the soft gentility of his eyes, and then there is his .. oh shit … he caught her staring. Fucker. The rouge on her cheeks flares and he chuckles and spins on the barstool, leaning over the light up garland and twirls his now rather empty whiskey glass around like a table top.

"Two shots before noon?" She teases, filling the cup once more, "Something on your mind?"

He sighs, stares down at the amber liquid for a moment, and half of her almost wishes he would look at her instead. "In all honesty, I was supposed to meet some friends at a bar."

"And you bailed?"

He gives her a shy guilty smile in response, "No actually, I got lost."

"Oh, well what's it called?"

"The Rum Barrel?"

Ah. The dive around the corner. Not the most established and classy of places, but they do have a mean karaoke night on Thursday's she may or may not have belted a tune or two out at.

"It's on Cross and 8th ave. Five minute walk."

He hums, but makes no move to vacate his seat, and Roni finds it rather hard to hide the grin that creeps onto her lips at that fact.

"So tell me, how did you come to own this place?"

"It kinda just got passed down to me. My dad used to own it and after he died, my mother wanted to sell and I couldn't let her throw away his memory like that."

"That was rather unkind of her."

"Tell me about it." She chuckles, and down a second shot herself, happy that the buzz is slowly beginning to kick in and possibly giving her a bit of courage to keep talking to this guy. And she can't keep calling him that forever.

"I didn't catch your name."

"Rowan Lock."

"You own the wood shop on Main and 12th?"

"I do."

Her brows raise curiously. She loves that store. Has walked by it many a time window shopping, down right enamoured with the architectural pieces inside she could never afford but would die to own.

"Have you been inside?"

Seems he's caught onto her train of thought. She shakes her head, curls bouncing about as the blush once again invades hot and heavy into her cheeks, "Not yet."

"Well, perhaps I can show you around sometime." He smiles, a down right fucking gorgeous thing she isn't sure if she wants to smack off of him or kiss until she can't breath. Definitely the later, as she spies his dimples deepening beneath the scruff.

"Perhaps." She bites back her own smile.

He leans over the counter a fraction, she mirror's his action without a second thought, suddenly drowning in his bright blue eyes that dance along to Aretha Franklin belting out "Kissing under the mistletoe."

What would it be like to kiss him? She imagines he would be the soft but steady type. The kind that would wrap an arm around her waist, securing them tight, the other hand threading through her curls, keeping their lips locked for hours on end. He's got a nice voice too. How he hums out the gently melody whilst keeping his eyes trained on her fingers which nearly brush his as they drum on the oak bar top.

"You know I'm rather glad I stumbled in here." He hushes out quietly, flicking a quick glance her way.

She doesn't have the heart to tell him the bar isn't even technically open yet. Not that it matters anyway. It was only decorating he interrupted, and there is a ton more hours left in the day for her to finish up. Talking to a rather sexy intriguing man isn't exactly the worst of her problems.

Before she goes to answer him back with some flirtatious reply, the door chimes once more, and her eyes are dreadfully pulled away from Rowan and land on a rather amused Henry Mills walking around the corner.

"Hey Roni. I didn't realize you were opening early today." He questions with a smug grin, sliding into a vacant bar stool and eyeing her up rather curiously. And of course, Rowan's eyes have to glance at her slightly confused and she doesn't embarrass easy, but this, well it has her heart tumbling like a fucking fool about itself now that she's been caught.

"What can I say, I was in the Christmas spirit." She smiles at Henry, avoiding Rowan's gaze entirely whilst reaching for a new rag to wipe down her perfectly clean top with.

"Clearly." Henry spins about, "The place looks like the north pole."

"Stop, you're going to make me blush." She teases happily back, wiping her cloth at Henry's arm with a laugh and it feels damn good to feel light like this right now. Not having to worry about Victoria fucking Belfrey for a moment, stealing away everything good in the community. She just feels, well kinda happy. Which hasn't really happened in a long time.

"It looks good on you." Rowan winks at her behind his whiskey and Roni rolls her eyes hard but sends him a smile anyway at the very obvious flirt. She likes him. He has a good soul, she can feel it. Not some low life dude looking for a one night fuck and adios, but an actual genuine guy. And he's not wearing a ring on his left finger which is just a bonus in her mind. Not that she's planning on doing anything about it...yet. They just met. Jumping his bones, though her insides are basically demanding it of her, probably isn't the best initial impression.

"Well, I should best be off." Rowan slides his glass over to Roni, who frowns miserably down at it for a moment. She doesn't want him to leave. Which is again ridiculous, but still. It was nice to have someone to talk to who didn't have a preconceived notion of her already.

"It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise M'lady." He smiles, shrugs his coat on and reaches for her hand. Which she apparently gives to him without a second thought. Blushing furiously when his lips meet the back of her palm. "Come by the shop sometime, I'd be happy to give you that tour."

"Yeah."

Yeah? That's what came out of her mouth all breathless and stunned. Just Yeah… For fuck's sake. So much for the rough and tough attitude she's been accustomed to owning. One pair of pretty blue eyes with a british accent and she is off her rocker. He probably thinks she's an idiot.

She watches him walk to the door, her previously affectioned palm tucked gently into her chest as he sends her one last smile over his shoulder and heads out.

"Well damn." Henry breathes out, eyes wide and jaw dropped as he swigs a gulp of beer.

Roni frowns, cocking an eyebrow at him, "What?"

"I didn't think I'd ever see the day."

"What day?" She scowls accusatorily at Henry's puffed up grin.

He laughs, shakes his head and leans it on his palm, "You are completely smitten."

Barking out a laugh, Roni snatching the empty whiskey glass of the bar, huffing out a rather indignant, "No I'm not." whilst furiously cleaning the cup. Henry just chuckles at the new flare of rouge in her cheeks matched with a adorable scowling scrunch of her nose as she snuffs a hot breath his all too knowing look.

"Don't you have Cinderella to go save."

The door chimes again, and in come the lunch rush crowd, and the conversation with Henry is officially over. Her fingers trace over the spot where his lips were, a warm buzzing left behind she swears is still tingling away.

She's not smitten...well...okay…maybe a little bit.

TBC.