Seamus Finnegan was an average, freckly sandy-haired Irish boy of fifteen. And as fifteen year old boys go, he was quite average. He loved to stare at girls, he loved to eat, he loved to run around town with his mates. And above all else, he loved to annoy his best friend Alice in the dead of night.

"Seamus, it's one in the morning! What were you thinking?"

Alice Evans was very cold, very tired, and very pissed off. Not five minutes ago, Seamus Finnegan had accosted her bedroom window with some very heavy pebbles, and persuaded her against her better judgment to come outside. It was the middle of the winter, there was snow on the ground, and Alice was wearing sandals and her nightgown.

"What were you thinking, coming outdoors in the cold without shoes or a coat?" Seamus frowned at her.

"It not like I had much of a choice. You attacked my window." Alice said bitterly. She started to shiver a bit.

"Well, do you want my coat?"

"Yes, that'd be much appreciated." She sniffed and accepted the jacket, slipping her arms though and basking in the sudden warmth.

"Well, what's the occasion for this visit? Your dog ought to have died or something."

Seamus laughed and his breath created a cloud of mist that hovered in between them for a few moments before disappearing.

"No, my dog hasn't died, Alice. I just wanted to know..." he paused, glancing at her, and then staring at his shoes, suddenly looking very tense.

"Well, I just wanted to know if you...if you-"

"If I what, Seamus?" Alice shivered inside his warm coat.

"Um, if you...if you...thought I...look good in hats! Yes, I've um, been wondering, 'cause I just got this new hat, you see," he points to the one atop his head, which Alice knows isn't new, she gave it to him two Christmases ago, "and I wasn't sure if-"

And quite suddenly, Seamus is being slapped on the arms, over the head, anywhere Alice can reach, yelling at him in between punches,

"I-can't-believe-"

"Hey! Alice! Quit it!" he tries half-heartedly to defend himself, but to no avail.

"No-I-will-not-quit it! I've-been-standing-here-in-sandals-and-you-want-to-know-if-I-like-you-in-hats! I-will-"

"Alice! Stop-"

Seamus grabs her wrists, gasping for breath and wincing in pain. Alice struggles against his strong hold and mumbles a few obscenities before falling silent. She was now standing there in his coat, fuming silently.

"Are you quite done?"

"Humph!" Alice snorts at him and turns tail, stomping back toward her house through the snow.

"Hey- Alice! Hang on!" he runs after her, catching her around the waist and spinning her around to face him.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself, you great buffoon." She poked him in the chest. "I'm still very cold, and you are not helping matters."

"I'd let you go, but you're still wearing my jacket."

"Well, you can just be cold then, it's what you deserve after all."

"Yeah, well...no, actually you're right."

"Aren't I always?" Alice grins up at him. "I pity you. Would you like me to share your jacket with you?"

"Yes, that would certainly be appreciated." Seamus puts his arm through one of the sleeves and settles his other arm around Alice's waist. She walks next to him, sighing contentedly.

"Yes, this is much better. I'm quite warm now. But I still hate you," she mumbles into his side.

"Hatred noted."

"...So where are we off to now, Seamus?"

"Oh, I was thinking we could go get ice cream or something."

"Once again, it is the middle of the night."

"Then how about I just walk you home instead?"

"I think that would be lovely. And Seamus?"

"Hmm?"

"If you ever bring me out of my warm home into this kind of weather ever again, I will make sure it is the last thing you ever do."

"Aye Aye, Captain Alice."

"I am not a pirate."

"Gotcha."

And as the two friends wandered off toward her house, occasionally tripping over each other or pausing to hurl snowballs and bits of ice at each other, laughing all the while, Alice realizes that this boy, her very best friend in the world, was quite extraordinary. She tickled his side and doubled over in mirth when he let out a girlish shriek. He grinned and tackled her into the snowbank, tickling her, not noticing nor caring that she was wearing his coat, and he was without one. When she pointed out that he would most likely have a cold tomorrow, and asked him whether he was sure he didn't want his coat back, he said that yes, he was sure, he'd much rather be cold and ill and miserable than for her to be so. And when she blushed, he kissed her. With her warm breath against his skin, and his hands tangled in her hair, he figured he didn't really need a coat anyway.