Sorry people! I'm soooo sorry. An impromptu little driving trip wormed its way into my schedule, so, I couldn't update as soon as I wanted to.

Uh, stephy04, to answer your question (since there's no more to that little drabble), Miley danced with Oliver because she wanted to.

Um, well, here's the last chapter. Consider it a late Christmas present. (Ah, again, SORRY!)

Have a Merry last-half-hour of Christmas, people! And please, review :D

------------------------------------------------------------

Eight

Three

-----------------------------------------------------------

Senior year, Oliver and Miley had been passing through, in and out of Lily's house, running back and forth to buy things that made her feel comfortable ever since her latest break up. She was going to spend the first half of Christmas Eve with said ex, but that didn't happen.

"Going to buy her more cookies…" Oliver said, as he held up the empty bag.

"Getting more ice cream. And a bigger spoon," Miley said, holding up the empty carton.

"HURRY!" they heard Lily wail from upstairs, in between sniffles.

Oliver rushed out of the door, right as Miley rushed as well. Both ended up stuck in the door frame.

"Ow – you go –"

"I'll –"

Their shoulders rubbed together until Oliver jerked his through. Miley hissed in pain, as they finally broke free.

"Oh – sorry… I didn't mean to shove that hard..." he muttered, as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing… Lily's waiting…" she trailed off slowly, as Oliver continued rubbing his hand involuntarily on her shoulder.

They locked eyes again and Oliver gulped. As tender as the moment was, it was intense.

"Uhhhh…" Oliver managed to let out, as he let his hand slide off of her shoulder.

"Just… kiss me," she said, and both blushed harder, as he leant down to kiss her.

He pulled back slowly, gazing into her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Again…?" he asked permission.

She smiled and leant up to kiss him, Lily's wails gone unnoticed for the moment – as well as the mistletoe that had been hanging above them.

The next nine Christmases were spent away from each other, due to busyness of Hannah Montana's continuing career, and Oliver and Lily's studying. They'd all gone abroad, and Oliver studied in New York, while Lily stayed to study in California.

Oliver studied to become a lawyer, and then switched to medicine.

Lily took journalism.

The two stayed in touch, though no one could get a hold of Miley.

It was because of this Oliver thought he'd decide to give up on Miley.

But fate would have none of that.

He'd been sipping some espresso, reviewing some notes for a presentation at the hospital due after Christmas Day. The café was quiet, except for the sound of the soft music in the background, and the light chatter in the background.

"I'll have… whatever you recommend. Go for it," he heard a familiar voice say, and he looked up from his papers, to see the back of a very familiar brunette.

He smiled, and walked to the counter, seeing the woman from side view, and he knew then it was definitely her.

"Your total comes to…five seventy-five," the cashier said, and Oliver slid the money across the counter.

"Have dinner with me?" he let out, and Miley turned to look at him, since she was about to reject him.

She then threw her arms around him in a tight hug, and hugged her back.

"Sure," she said, pulling back and he mimicked the bright, wide smile she'd had.

After that one dinner, they'd become inseparable.

They began to date and they stayed in touch when Miley was away. She was also able to get back in touch with Lily.

They'd planned to have everyone over to New York for Christmas that year, though everyone had their own schedule.

So, they planned on spending it together.

And Oliver, never seeming to want to break tradition, thought of what he would ask her that year.

'Make snow angels with me?'

'Go to the concert with me?'

'Walk with me?'

'Climb out the window with me?'

'Go to the winter formal with me?'

'Dance with me?'

'Again?'

'Have dinner with me?'

Now what?

As he thought over the question he was going to ask, a smile crept its way up his lips.

It did not last.

Bright, blinding lights flashed before his eyes, and his car swerved, a hard jerk and sound of breaking and crashing made. His head hit the back of the seat, hard, as the airbags just burst open. The darkness then welcomed him.

------

------

Miley looked down at Oliver, teary eyed, as the weary looking doctor entered the room with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Ms. Stewart," he smiled, as he scribbled something down on his clipboard.

"Not so merry right now, but all the same to you," she said, as she reached down to grab Oliver's hand. "He's alright, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes, of course. His car did get totaled, but, he thankfully only suffered a minor concussion. He'll be out by tomorrow morning," the older man smiled, and Miley did too. "Well, Mr. Oken here should be alright. Do you have somewhere to get going tonight?"

"I was gonna have dinner with him," she gave a half smile, looking at Oliver as he slept, his mouth hanging half open, a soft, reassuring snore coming from him.

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sorry this had to happen tonight. It's really horrible timing," the man said, shaking his head. "Well, a nurse will deliver all his belongings and such in a few minutes. Have a Merry Christmas Ms. Stewart, and don't worry so much."

"I won't. Thanks doctor," she said, now caressing Oliver's hand.

The old man left, and Miley was left with a nurse who'd just come in, holding all Oliver's clothes.

She smiled slightly, but exited the room rather quickly.

"So, I guess you're not gonna ask me your annual Christmas question this year, huh?" Miley asked Oliver's sleeping form. All he did was snore louder, and shut his eyes tighter. He seemed just like a little boy, so innocent and huggable.

Finally, she let go of Oliver's hand, and walked over to the box of Oliver's clothes. She took out the coat, and his pants, but as she did, something tumbled onto the floor.

"Oliver and his junk," she mumbled to herself, smiling, as she picked up a small, black velvet box that was now lying on the floor.

As her fingers enclosed around it, she felt her heart beat faster, and drum in her ears. All at once she was excited, curious, and nervous as to what the point of the box was.

She picked it up and walked over to Oliver's side, as she opened it.

Inside it shone a boastful, gold ring with a proud diamond right in the center. Though it hadn't been dramatic, or over sized, its shine and meaning put every celebrity's own ring to shame.

Her breath hitched in her throat, as she read the golden letters engraved into the inside of the box.

She read aloud, figuring Oliver couldn't hear her anyways. "It took eight Christmases to make love me –"

"- and nine stupid questions to make you mine. I'm glad I waited," Oliver's croaky voice came, as he looked up at her through drowsy eyes.

"Oliver…" she whispered slowly, biting her lip as she looked down at him. "Is –"

"Grow old and have kids with me?" he interrupted, sitting up in his bed, and Miley almost died.

Although she'd been anticipating the question – or, a question like it – it still came to her as a shock. Even if the question sounded casual at first, the impact behind them was just as heavy as 'marry me', especially coming from a guy like Oliver. Miley froze up, and Oliver cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Miley? I'm asking you to marry me," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and her brain finally clicked.

"Ah – Oliver –" she whispered, as she wiped the oncoming tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Um, sorry, I can't. I have something I have to do," she said with a slight smile, and Oliver seemed slightly taken aback – before he remembered the familiar response from years and years back. "Of course I will, you donut!" she exclaimed, and he reflexively pushed himself up off of the bed, sitting as tall as he could, and threw his arms around her, and pulled her down to kiss her.

He pulled back slightly, and with one hand, flipped the box still in Miley's hand, open, pulled the ring out of the box, and slipped it onto her ring finger, never breaking eye contact with her.

And, again, they kissed, as he entwined fingers with hers, the cool feel of the band of gold rubbing against his own fingers.

That Christmas turned quite busy after Oliver left the hospital. Due to their suddenly full schedule, Miley never acknowledged the letters that had been engraved within the ring until much later.

Inscribed in capital letters, within the ring she wore, was a word normally not romantic, but in this case, extremely significant:

'Eight.'