Title: Under the Mistletoe

Rating: K+

Warnings: none

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Disney. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended

Author Notes: I LIVE! I am sorry that I've pretty much vanished for so long. I don't really have an excuse except that I kinda of ran out of motivation. BUT! I finally decided to try to get back into it. Mostly because I wanted to get this chapter finished and get it done before Christmas. I've been sitting on it for over a year, intending to get it out last year, but hadn't finished it until late last night. Anyway, here it is.

Reviews: Ainmals1 – Thank you! I do promise that I will try to get another chapter out eventually. Toons Girl- Thank you. It was fun to write Imelda and try to get her takes on the events of the movie. And You'll just have to wait and see. Angelwings2002 – Aww, thank you so much. Guest(s) ((unnamed, Hailey, fangirl 321,Rose Girl, Bobbie, Abby Joe, Rebecca Jones, Kim Boltin, Addie, Ally Joze, Gabby, Kristina Elson, Betty, Sammy)) – You all asked me for nearly the same thing and in the same way. It was a little weird to see that. LOL. Like I said in my other story, I have an idea but it might be awhile before it gets posted. DTLA1992 – I'm glad you've enjoyed all of this! Toons Girl(again) – I did think that was an interesting idea. I did have plans to continue that story line, I just have to get off my but to complete it.

"Imelda! ¡Mi amiga! ¿Cómo estás? You are looking lovely on this fine day. How's the shoe business going?"

"Héctor…" Imelda glared at the gangly young man who had just waltzed into her apartment. "¿Que estás hacienda? I've told you about coming in here without permission!"

Normally she didn't mind getting a visit from her downstairs neighbour. He had literally bumped into her the day she moved in, knocking a couple of boxes out of her grip. They only had clothing, not anything breakable, but Imelda still rightfully sounded off on him while he tried to apologize and offer to help. The 'tirade' (which she later learned was what his annoying friend Ernesto had termed it) certainly wasn't an auspicious beginning.

They were… not exactly friends now, but perhaps a little more than acquaintances. Imelda found herself liking the energetic (and rather accident prone) young music teacher well enough, but not so much to tolerate him coming into her apartment without so much as a knock on the door Especially when she was busy with new designs.

As usual, Héctor didn't seem at all fazed by her un-welcome. He draped himself across the bar counter that doubled as Imelda's table where she was working. "That I need to knock first. Which I did. You didn't answer, but I knew you were home anyway. Besides, you left the door unlocked." He gave a teasing smirk she wanted nothing more than to smack off him.

Imelda fought to not roll her eyes. Okay, she did sometimes forget that she no longer lived back in her small town of Santa Cecilia. Hardly anyone locked their doors there. And she had been focused on her new designs and really hadn't heard the knocking. That still didn't give him the right to barge into her apartment. And she told him exactly that. "So, what is it you want?"

"Who said I wanted anything?" he replied just a hair too fast. Imelda didn't believe him for a second. The grin faltered for a moment at the long look she gave him. He then tried to chuckle. "Can't a guy visit a friend without needing something?"

Imelda raised an eyebrow. That was a lie and they both knew it. And if she pushed, he would apologize for it. Héctor had a bit of a habit for asking favors for crazy ideas. The favors usually involved asking for help with his classes, field trips, or concerts. "Try again, Héctor."

He deflated, realizing she had seen right through the act. "Okay, I do need a little favor. It's kinda silly, really. Important! But silly. I wouldn't even ask it of you, but I don't know anyone else and… Well, you see, the thing is… The staff Navidad party is coming up. It's not going to be anything huge. Well, it is, because it's kinda for the whole district. There's going to be music and dancing and some pretty good food. I heard they got that fancy catering company that…"

"The point! Get to the point!"

There was a moment of silence and then Héctor's next words came out in a rush. "Ineedyoutopretendtobemynovia."

Imelda blinked. Did he just say what? "Mind repeating that a little slower than the speed of light?"

Héctor wouldn't meet her eyes and his ears were starting to turn pink. "I need you to pretend to be my…"

"Are you insane?!" she cut him off. "You're joking. This is a joke." He didn't reply, just curled his lanky form in on himself as the pink ears turned redder. "Why on earth would you even ask that?"

"Do you want to short answer or the long one?" he mumbled without looking at her.

"I want an explanation, Rivera."

He winced, holding his wrist. After a moment more, he began to explain. And it was the dumbest craziest thing she ever heard. Months ago, a rumor had sprung up at his school that Héctor was in a relationship and instead of telling the truth, his idiota friend convinced him to just go along with it. Why they thought that was a good idea, she could not fathom. And so, after months of this charade, when this navidad party came up, Héctor had stupidly said he was going to bring this non-existent girlfriend as his date.

And therein lay the crux of the favor.

Imelda stared at him and then narrowed her eyes. "Get out."

His head jerked up. "Please, Imelda. Por favor. It's just one night and I don't have anyone else to ask. I'll do whatever you want. I'll… I'll clean your apartment. I'll look after Pepita when you go home for holidays!" Imelda's cat growled at him from her perch on the back of the sofa where she had been watching. Pepita didn't like Héctor one bit and Héctor was more than a little afraid of her. "We could even pretend to break up after the party and you can hit me with your shoe!"

"I'm about to hit you with my shoe right now! Get out!" To make good on her threat, Imelda reached down to pull off one of her shoes. Héctor yelped and scrambled for the door. She stalked after him, shoe in hand. "And stay out!" she shouted the second he was across the threshold, before slamming the door shut and locking it. For a moment she expected to hear him knocking and trying to convince her of his mad scheme, but there was silence from the other side of the door.

"BWAHAHAHAH…"

"Shut up."

"…HAHAHAHAHAHA…"

"It's not funny!"

"…HAHAHAHAHA…"

"Ernesto! You are not helping!" Héctor scowled as his friend's laughter finally started to die down. He really shouldn't have been surprised at Ernesto's reaction. If it had happened to anyone else, Héctor might have laughed too. Still he didn't need his friend laughing like that at him.

"Hehehe… Sorry, mi amigo. I just can't believe you wanted to ask the mujer malvada to be your girlfriend." Ernesto swiped at his eyes to clear the laugh tears away.

"Don't call her that. Imelda isn't a devil woman." Héctor retorted almost defensively. He couldn't explain why, but he didn't want to hear anyone insulting Imelda. "And I didn't ask her to be my girlfriend. Just to pretend she was."

Ernesto snorted. "It amounts to the same thing with you. I know you, Héctor. You couldn't pretend to have a girlfriend if your life depended on it."

Héctor frowned, looking more like he was pouting. "I've been pretending for months. No one's noticed so far. Besides, you suggested it in the first place."

"And you believed me." Ernesto shrugged. "I just never thought you would carry it this far though. You should have just told everyone you broke up. Then you could have gotten some sympathy from the chicas."

That would probably have been easier. The break up part, not the chica part. Héctor hadn't started this estupido idea to use it as a ploy to get a girlfriend. Just as a way to fit in maybe. He was never very good at talking to girls as a boy and hadn't gotten much better as an adult. There wasn't a problem when he was dealing with mothers of his students, but socializing with strangers or even his fellow female teachers? No bueno.

In fact, Imelda was the first and, so far, only woman he found he could talk to with any ease. He couldn't think of why that was.

Besides, that was more of an Ernesto ploy, playing for sympathy. Ernesto had no problems with attracting female attention. Women were always fawning over him. You could almost set your watch by when there was a new one clinging to his arm. It all seemed so vapid and that wasn't the kind of relationship Héctor wanted.

Of course, he wasn't any good at attempting the kind of relationship he wanted either.

Héctor sighed and slumped further on Ernesto's couch. A cold beer bottle bumped the back of his head and he took it from Ernesto. "Maybe I'll just not go." He mumbled as he brought the bottle to his mouth.

Ernesto dropped onto the cushions next to him. "If you don't want to go the break-up route, why not ask someone else? There's several women I know…"

"No. Gracias Ernesto, but no. It would be a disaster."

"And it wouldn't with Señorita Zapatera?"

Héctor merely gave a shrug. His friend was likely right, but he couldn't help the feeling that if Imelda had agreed to his crazy idea, things might have worked out to not be a disaster.

When Imelda arrived at Ceci's shop the next morning with the designs for the shoes the costume designer ordered, she was still irritated from Héctor's visit. And she wasn't as able to hide her irritation as well as she had thought. So, it wasn't long before Ceci managed to get the story out of her.

And Imelda didn't understand the reaction she got from the other woman.

"Are you telling me that Héctor Rivera, the guy that teaches music at the high school, asked you out on a date?" the other woman's tone was completely skeptical and Imelda started to bristle.

"You think I'm the sort of woman that doesn't get asked for dates?"

Ceci waved a hand. "That's not what I meant. I just find it hard to believe Héctor was the one asking. My cousin's children go to that school and I've helped out their drama department. And I've never seen that man able to string two words together sensibly in the presence of a woman."

Imelda frowned. That wasn't at all like the Héctor she knew. "¿No manches? I can hardly get him to shut up."

"Oh?" Ceci drawled the word in a way Imelda didn't like. The seamstress eyed Imelda, her eyes traveling from the top of her head to her feet as a smirk started to form. "I wonder why that is."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Imelda demanded, hands on hips. She did not appreciate that amused look. She hated it when people made judgements about her, especially about something like this.

Ceci just shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, as she turned her attention to the sketches Imelda had come up with. "These should do perfectly. My client will be very happy. How soon do you think they can be finished?"

While Imelda was grateful that Ceci moved onto more business matters, she just knew that the other woman hadn't forgotten previous subject. And that's just what happened as Imelda was about to leave.

"Briefly going back to the previous subject." Ceci said as she and Imelda headed for the door. "If you want my opinion, I think you should take Héctor up on his suggestion."

Imelda looked at her aghast. "Why ever would I want to?"

She turned to face Imelda, one hand on the door handle. "Why not? From what I know and what little you've told me; he seems like a nice guy. You'd be doing him a favor. At the very least, you'd get a night out to enjoy yourself and have some fun."

"And if I make a complete fool of myself?" Imelda retorted. "I don't need people talking about me and God knows what it would do to my reputation."

"Phht. Reputation doesn't matter that much here." Ceci replied, rolling her eyes. "This isn't that little town of yours, it's the big city. No one cares that much about reputations. And the only people who might talk are his coworkers. And then it's Héctor's problem to deal with the fallout. Not yours."

The other woman might have a point, Imelda was willing to concede. This wasn't her hometown. She didn't really have to contend with the same nosy gossips (one of the reasons she moved away in the first place) as back there. And Héctor had suggested they could break up afterwards, so it wasn't like she would have to see any of those people in a social setting again. But there was something that Imelda still objected to.

"I don't like lying." She said firmly. "Not even to people I don't know."

Ceci snorted. "You don't have to say you're his girlfriend. Just say you're his date. That technically wouldn't be a lie." She turned to open the door for Imelda. "Who knows. Maybe it won't end up being a lie anyway."

That last part was muttered and Imelda was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear it. So, she chose not to dignify it with any response. "I'll see you next week with the first of that order."

But as she walked home, her mind kept going back to Héctor and his crazy idea.

Héctor fidgeted with the cuff of his best suit jacket as he stood at the edge of the dance floor at the staff Navidad party. He still wasn't sure this was happening. His luck was usually so bad. But here he was, at the party. With Imelda. With Imelda acting as his girlfriend.

Three days after that disastrous attempt to beg a favor of Imelda, she had come knocking on his door to inform him she had decided that, despite it being a foolish idea, she would take part in his scheme. And that he would owe her big for this. Héctor had merely nodded vigorously, too dumbstruck to say anything. And, honestly, he was more than a little afraid that if he did try to say something, Imelda would change her mind again. She had given him a long stern look, then nodded once before marching away.

So the night of the party, he'd gotten all dressed up, gone to Imelda's apartment, and knocked on the door. When it opened, he'd found himself face to face with a…

… a Diosa…

Imelda was a vision in a deep purple cocktail dress. Her dark hair was tied up with ribbons in an elegant knot at the back of her neck and a black choker with a deep purple stone centered on it circled her throat.

Héctor's mouth had moved faster than his brain. "You look good." he'd blurted out before mentally kicking himself. Good? Good was the best he could come up with!? She looked more than good! Imelda was beautiful, gorgeous, perfect!

"I should hope so." Imelda had replied dryly. "I imagine you would want me to make a good impression on your coworkers."

"Oh, you certainly will that." He'd agreed with a grin before holding his arm out to her. "Shall we?"

Things had so far been going well. He'd introduced Imelda to several of his colleagues, the buffet was better than anyone expected, and he'd even got to dance several times with Imelda (all fast songs). She was an excellent dancer, it turned out.

Imelda seemed to be enjoying herself. She was certainly smiling enough. The only reason they weren't still dancing was because she'd needed to go powder her nose or whatever it was when women weren't using a bathroom for its intended purpose. Héctor knew better than to question it.

The only blight on the evening was in the form of a little plant with green leaves and white berries that was strung up in certain places. Mistletoe. And there was even a certain gang of coworkers who were intent on getting every couple under it at least once. More than once, preferably. Héctor and Imelda had managed to elude them due to the fact Héctor had spotted the threat when they first arrived. He'd been using the advantage of his height to keep an eye out for the troublesome group and steer Imelda away before they could be caught.

He didn't object to the tradition, but he really didn't want to ruin things with Imelda by being forced to kiss her. That would make things really awkward, he was sure. Not that he would have objected to kissing her. If they weren't faking their relationship, he would've taken every opportunity to kiss her. But since it was a fake relationship, well… discretion seemed best.

Of course, all good things couldn't last forever. Just as Héctor was beginning to wonder how much longer Imelda would be, another's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"This sure is some par-tay, ain't it?" a male voice said. Héctor turned to find one of his least favourite coworkers standing next to him. Gustavo Ramirez was the drama teacher and creating drama seemed to be his favourite pass time. And his favourite target was usually Héctor. It didn't help that, because of their respective subjects, they often had to work together.

Gustavo had also appeared to be the head of the Mistletoe Group.

"It sure has." Héctor replied neutrally. He glanced around but couldn't see any of the man's conspirators lurking about. It seemed safe enough for the moment, but he probably shouldn't let his guard down.

"So, where's that girlfriend of yours?" Gustavo asked oh-so-subtly. "I was hoping to get introduced. You sure know how to pick 'em." He grinned in a rather suggestive way. "No wonder you've been hiding her from us."

Héctor chuckled nervously. "I wouldn't say I've been hiding Imelda."

The short man hmmm-ed. "Does she got a sister?"

"Uh… she has… Actually…" Héctor panicked. He was sure Imelda had mentioned having siblings but he could not remember what.

Thankfully he was saved from making up the wrong answer. "I have brothers." Imelda said as she came up beside him, giving Gustavo a measuring look. "Younger brothers. Twins."

He nodded. "Yup. They like to confuse people by pretending to be each other. Gets me every time." That was a lie. Héctor hadn't ever met Imelda's brothers. He had no idea if that was something they would do. Imelda was now giving him a look and Héctor decided that he was probably laying it on a little thick. Time to make an escape. "Well! It looks like they've brought out some more stuff at the buffet. How about we go check it out, Imelda?"

He placed a hand at the small of her back, preparing to guide her away. They turned, but got no more than a step away.

"Not so fast, Chor-i-zo," Gustavo called out, saying the hated nickname sing-song fashion. Glancing back at the other teacher, they could see him pointing above their heads. "You're for-get-ting something."

Dreading what he knew they would find, both Héctor and Imelda looked up. And, indeed, there it was.

A sprig of mistletoe. Dangling at the end of a string. Tied to a broomstick. Held in the hands of one of Gustavo's cronies. The woman grinned and wiggled the fingers of her free hand at them. Others of Gustavo's cohort seemed to materialize around them, all with matching grins.

Héctor felt the blood drain out of his face as he dared a glance at the woman standing next to him. Imelda was still looking up at the mistletoe, a slight frown drawing her brows together. Then she brought her gaze down to meet his and her eyes widened.

"Well," Gustavo called out, "what are you waiting for, Chorizo?"

At that Imelda's eyes narrowed again and her lips pursed together in a way that made Héctor swallow in a bit of fear. He scrambled for something to say. Some excuse to get them out of this predicament. Anything at all!

But before that could happen, he was suddenly jerked forward by a pair of hands tangled in his tie. And the next thing he knew, Imelda's lips met his.

And his mind went blank.

A part of Imelda was screaming what are you doing?! This was completely unlike her. She never went around kissing… well Héctor wasn't really a total stranger, but it wasn't like they were more than barely friends. They were only faking this relationship. Yet here she was, kissing Héctor in the middle of his stupid staff party. In front of his coworkers and everyone.

Imelda could admit that she was pleasantly surprised by how well Héctor cleaned up when he arrived to pick her up. Not that he was a slob the rest of the time. Just usually… scattered. His hair actually looked brushed, his goatee neatly trimmed, and his cream coloured suit fit very well.

And he'd been a perfect gentleman the entire night.

Imelda had actually been enjoying herself so far. She'd always loved dancing and hadn't had as many opportunities to do so as she would have liked since moving to the city. Héctor, for all she thought he was a bit of a klutz, was a very good dancer.

Yes, she had noticed the mistletoe decorations. And she was relieved (she told herself) when she noticed how Héctor steered them away from the things.

Apparently, they couldn't avoid the blasted things forever.

Héctor had froze for a moment when Imelda first yanked him into the kiss. She had clearly taken him by surprise. For a brief second Imelda had a moment of doubt (They were supposed to be a couple after all. Couples were supposed to kiss each other). Then Héctor's arms came up to circle her waist, pulling her close, kissing her back. Without consciously directing them, Imelda's hands slide from his tie up around his neck to thread into the soft hairs at the nape of Héctor's neck. She couldn't help but notice how well she fit against his lanky frame, aware of every point of contact between them.

The room, the dance music, the cheering and jeering of the crowd around them faded away. For what felt like an instant and an eternity, nothing else mattered.

Finally, the kiss ended. She and Héctor pulled back just enough to stare dazedly at each other, their breaths mingling on each other's lips. Imelda could swear she felt his heart racing just as fast as hers was. She blinked and Héctor swallowed.

"All right, all right. Geez you two, get a room."

And just like that, whatever magic spell that had come over them was broken.

Imelda's spine stiffened as she turned in Héctor's hold to glare at the little man that had been talking to Héctor when Imelda came up. "That is hardly necessary," she retorted coldly, "since I hope that satisfies your puerile interest in such foolishness." She swept her icy gaze around at the rest of the onlookers. And more than a few had the good grace to look abashed.

The little man, when she returned her glare to him, went red. "Fine. Whatever." He huffed childishly. "Have fun with your girlfriend, Chorizo."

Imelda felt Héctor flinch as the man snickered and looked around expectantly. Whatever reaction he was going for never came though. The crowd around them was quiet, avoiding each other's eyes. The man huffed again and stomped off. The rest also took the opportunity to move on as well, leaving Imelda and Héctor (relatively) alone.

"What an annoying jerk." She commented as she looked back at Héctor. "And what was that about the chorizo thing?"

Héctor coughed, yanking his hands away from her hips as if they had caught on fire. He clearly just noticed where his hands were resting. Imelda tried to ignore the slight drop in her heart at the gesture. He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. "It's nothing. Just a stupid joke Gustavo likes to use."

Imelda was pretty sure that was a lie. Whatever chorizo meant, whether literally or in the slang sense, it was not nothing. But it was also obvious that he didn't want to talk about it either. So, she let it drop. "It can't be a very funny joke, since no one was laughing."

For a moment, Héctor looked like he was going to say something, but then wisely changed his mind. Instead he said, "Imelda, I… Lo siento. I swear I was trying… what I mean is…"

"It's all right. I know what you meant." Imelda cut in to his apology. "To be fair, however, I was the one who kissed you. Now come here." She took his arm and pulled Héctor over to a table where napkins were laid out. Picking one up, she turned back to him.

"¿Que pasa?"

She could feel a blush warm her cheeks. "You have smudges."

"Oh?" Héctor crossed his eyes as if trying to see what she meant. Then he gave a lopsided grin. "You don't think it's a good colour on me? Purple is a lovely shade."

"Indeed. I'm quite fond of it." Imelda replied, unable to keep the corners of her lips from turning up. "Still, no man looks good in lipstick smudges. Not even you."

She froze for a second as the words slipped out. She hadn't meant to voice that thought out loud. The blush across her cheeks grew warmer. It took all her willpower to bring her eyes up to meet his.

Héctor felt his heart leap in his chest. He'd just realized that he was more than halfway in love with Imelda. She was the most perfect woman he'd ever known. Not only beautiful, but fierce, independent, passionate. Hell, she was able to cow an entire crowd with just a look. At any other time, he would've said that he had no chance with her. That there was no way Imelda might be interested in him. But the moment she glanced up at him wide-eyed…

Now, mi amigo. It's time to seize your moment! A voice in the back of his head, which sounded exactly like Ernesto, said. Granted, when Ernesto talked about seizing moments, it was usually about furthering his musical career, not about romance. Still, the phrase did fit the circumstances.

"Do you want to go out for coffee?" Héctor asked abruptly. Imelda blinked and raised an eyebrow. Okay, that probably seemed way out of left field. "Sometime, not… not right now. But some day? Maybe?" Héctor cringed internally and shut his mouth. The more he talked, the worst it seemed to get. Already he was having doubts.

Imelda stared at him for what felt like forever, one hand upraised with the napkin she had picked up. Finally, she responded. "That depends. Are you asking me out on a real date, Héctor Rivera?"

Those nebulous doubts faded as quickly as they started. That wasn't a no. "Sí… I am…" he answered, trying to not hold his breath. "That is… if… if you want to…"

She searched his eyes for another long moment. At last that wonderful amazing tiny smile of hers appeared. "Then that is my answer… Sí."