It started, as Jas and Vincent's bright ideas often do, with one of Penny's special lessons. In the spirit of the upcoming holiday, she had been teaching her tiny class about Feasting traditions undertaken around the world – including those few that were celebrated near-universally.

It wasn't that they weren't already aware of Santa Clause, of course. The stories of the strange winter spirit, or whatever exactly he was, who went around giving gifts to whomever welcomed him on Feasting's Eve were very nearly better known to children than adults. The first part of the lesson had quickly derailed into a discussion of what Jas and Vincent's (and Penny's, once they'd wheedled it out of her) favorite presents from Santa had been, eventually culminating in a shouting match over which of the children's gifts were best that had left their poor teacher threatening to take away five star points each if they did not drop the subject and return to the lesson at hand.

Despite all of this, or perhaps because of it, the highlights of that particular class had left the two students with enough of an impression as to present itself as a challenge – and not one which either of them intended to take on alone.

It was too bad that Shane wasn't quite so enamored with challenges.

"So, let me get this straight," Jas' godfather said, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, "You want to stay up until Yoba-knows-when, on the night before Winter Star, to try and see the crazy wizard who goes around breaking into people's houses all night."

Jas crossed her arms and pouted. "He doesn't break into houses!" she argued. "Miss Penny said he only comes when we invite him in, and why wouldn't we invite him because he gives us presents! And I already asked Aunt Marnie and she invites him here every year, so there."

Shane let out a low sigh. And Yoba only knows why she does, he thought dryly to himself.

Out loud he countered with, "Fine, but what about the part where nobody ever actually sees him? Most kids your age eventually get convinced he isn't even real until they get old enough to start asking where the presents come from. What exactly makes you think we'd have any better luck?"

Jas grinned. "That's the fun part! We're gonna stay up all night until he has to come in, and we're gonna be right there in the living room to meet him! And then we'll be the first people to see Santa Clause up close!" She paused for a moment, her face scrunching up in thought, and then added, "Or maybe the second. Vincent's gonna get Sam to stay up with him too, so if Santa visits them first then they'll be the first ones to meet him."

Shane frowned. There were a dozen holes he could poke in her argument – didn't she realize how many people must have tried that before? What if Santa responded to those kinds of slights by just skipping the house? Did she want to be tired all day for the Feast of the Winter Star tomorrow?

All these arguments and more bubbled to the surface of his mind, headed by the very simple fact that he did not want to join her on this futile mission. All he had to say was no, he was going to bed at a reasonable time, and then Jas could do whatever the heck she pleased until she inevitably fell asleep an hour later. Hell, he was her godfather and sort-of-guardian; he could make her go to bed at a proper time so she'd be ready for the feast, and that would be the end of that.

But just as he was debating whether it would be worth the trouble of trying to convince a willful child that it was bedtime, he got a really good look at the expression on her face. There was so much hope there, pure and determined and innocent, and he realized that he couldn't just waltz up and crush that hope.

It'll get crushed anyway when she fails, the cynical part of his brain told him.

For once, and somewhat to his own surprise, he told the cynical part of his brain to stuff it.

"...All right, fine. We can try this plan of yours," he finally said. Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, he added, "Just don't get your expectations up too high, okay?"

Jas' cheers didn't give any indication that she'd listened to that last warning, but Shane had the gut feeling that that didn't really matter.

Meanwhile, Vincent was having a significantly easier time getting his chosen partner in crime onboard. Sam listened intently, leaning forward on his elbows as he and Vince sat on the living room couch, while his little brother outlined the... admittedly sparse details of the plan he and Jas had come up with.

"Hmm," he thought out loud, "So we're just gonna stay up and wait for Santa to come by? Do you have any plan B for if he knows how to get around that? Because I gotta tell ya, I've tried this a couple times before and I swear he's got some kind of sleeping spell or something."

Actually, "a couple" wasn't really accurate. More like he'd tried everything he could think of to catch Santa for years, long after most kids had given in and simply accepted that this was a spirit who didn't want to be seen. Nothing had worked, of course. Still, it wouldn't do to discourage the kid. For as fruitless as they were, all those years had been pretty fun.

Vincent squirmed in his seat and offered up a sheepish grin. "Well, that's why Jas and me wanted you and Shane to help. We thought you guys would be better at figuring out all the really clever stuff since you're older and smarter."

Sam smirked. "Oh, yeah? So why am I only hearing this tonight? You've been out of class for a week, and I remember Penny talking about what happened when she brought up the old spirit even before then."

Vincent didn't seem to catch the reminder of his argument with Jas, and just puffed up with pride. "That's because we remembered how Santa knows things, so we couldn't talk about it a lot until today. It's safe to tell you now 'cause he's busy getting ready to go around the world, so he won't be paying attention," he said matter-of-factly.

Sam grinned. "Well, sounds like you two planned for more than you thought." Whether a way to actually convince Shane to join was part of it, I have no idea, he thought to himself, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He stood up and clapped his hands.

"All right, I'm in. Come on; there's a couple things we need to get ready before Mom gets back with dinner, and first on the list is to call in the cavalry."

Vincent cocked his head. "The cavalry? What are you talking about?"

Sam grabbed his phone and started scrolling through his contacts. "Abigail."

Few things caught Abigail's attention more than a good supernatural mystery, and it didn't get a whole lot more mysterious than Santa Clause. There was considerable debate over whether he was a light spirit or just a powerful magician (she personally believed the former, but then again, she was biased), how he knew what kinds of gifts would be best suited to their recipients, and even whether it was truly just a singular "he" who flew through Feasting's Eve night. There were myths upon legends of how the being came to be and why he had begun his eternal quest of generosity, and the only evidence of what he looked like or how he traveled came from lucky sky sightings over the years and a handful of photographs taken from equally far away.

It was only natural that curious people wanted to catch a real, up-close sight of him, even if those people were typically children. Abigail must have set up at least a half-dozen scenarios with her friends over the years: faked sleeping, noise traps, an actual trap at one point (that last one had been rather memorable, but only because it had managed to catch her father when he'd gone out for a midnight snack and earned her a thorough grounding). Sebastian had been the first to give up on the mystery, and for a few years the honorable tradition of Santa-sighting had fallen to Abigail and Sam alone. It had been one of the few things the two of them did together without Sebastian in the mix, and when they'd grown up and gotten busy with other projects, the loss of that tradition had upset her more than she let on.

Needless to say, it hadn't been hard to make her choice when Sam texted her with his brother's proposal on Feasting's Eve.

Do u even need to ask? Hell yeah im in! she tapped out rapidly, making her way from her bedroom to the storefront. Give me a sec, ill tell the parents and then we can start planning.

"Dad?" she called out as she poked her head through the doorway. "I'm gonna head to Sam's and we'll be out late, okay?"

Pierre looked up from where he was tidying the front counter; he'd already closed for the evening. He frowned. "On Feasting's Eve? We were just about to have dinner."

Abigail clicked her tongue. "After dinner, then. It's not like we have any plans after that, and I'll be back before Winter Star tomorrow. So it shouldn't be a problem, right?"

Her father seemed to be considering it, but then her mother came up behind them. "Where are you going after dinner?"

Abigail steeled herself as she turned to face her. Caroline would be the harder of the two to convince.

"Just Sam's," she replied breezily. "We're going Santa-sighting."

Caroline cocked an eyebrow. "Santa-sighting? Aren't you a little old for that?" Her mouth twisted into a frown as she added, "And I don't think it's a good idea for you to be out so late at a young man's house."

Abigail was ready with a retort until that second statement hit. She recoiled at what her mother was suggesting and let out a loud groan. "Oh my god Mom, we're hunting for a spirit with his brother. You know, the seven-year-old kid?" What exactly did she think Abigail and her friends got up to, anyway? Actually, scratch that – she had a pretty good idea, and really didn't need it confirmed.

Caroline just shook her head. "I'm sorry honey, but I'm going to have to say no. You can stay up as late as you like, but you're doing it here. I don't want you falling asleep at his house like last time."

Abigail opened her mouth to argue her case again, but her mom had already started heading back to the kitchen. She huffed. And thus, the mother had spoken, and thus it was, apparently. In a last-ditch effort, she turned a pleading gaze on her father.

Pierre just blinked back at her and shrugged. "Sorry, Abby. I can't just go around your mom's word, and she's kind of got a point."

Abigail groaned again and turned on her heel to return to her room. She pulled out her phone to start texting Sam again.

Change of plans. Mom wont let me go out tonight so we gotta do this separate. I say we keep in contact to keep each other up, use 2 houses to our advantage.

She didn't have to wait long for a reply. Well that sucks :( 2 houses thing could work though... Any security cams or anything in your dad's store?

Abigail felt a little smile quirk at the side of her mouth as she settled in to plan. It really did feel good to be doing this again, whatever anyone said about her age.

This year, that long-coveted encounter with Santa Clause was going to be hers.