Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High because if I did you'd be watching this instead of reading it. The sound track would be all Christmas music by Trans-Siberian Orchestra (especially "The Ghosts of Christmas Eve", "Christmas Canon Rock" and "Wizards in Winter"), and it would guest star Summer Bishil (Return to Halloweentown) as Ice Princess and special guest star Sharon Stone as Queen Quiver.

Sky High: The Series

Christmas Special

"Snow Ball Fight"

Christmas break was fast approaching, and the entire school was abuzz. Not only was there Christmas to look forward to, but there was still the annual school production of "A Christmas Carol" which was in final rehearsals and, most important of all, the winter formal known as the "Snow Ball".

Like the city below, the school was covered in a nice blanket of snow (thanks to the staff making sure the school was flown through some snow clouds) and multi-colored lights made the place look almost magical. In the main entry towered an enormous Christmas tree that virtually glowed like the night sky with countless twinkling stars thanks to Mrs. Ohm, the art teacher who was once a light controlling heroine. At first Layla had her usual misgivings about a tree being killed for a holiday until she was assured the tree was quite alive, just temporarily replanted there. She even talked to the tree and found that not only was it very alive, but happy that it had been chosen for such an honor.

In the auditorium the final touches were being made to the set of the play, and the last rehearsals were being gone over. Everyone was anxious and bustling about, but one particular person was getting a little too much into character.

"Would someone please tell me WHY I have to play Scrooge EVERY year?" snarled Coach Boomer, who was wearing the same costume he had for years.

"Because you do it so well, darling," said the drama teacher Mrs. Chamelion, "you do grumpy old fart so well that no one can compare to you. Of course that shows what an excellent actor you are, as we all know you are nothing like that in real life."

"Oh? Oh…of course," said Coach Boomer, suddenly puffing up like a toad. "I was quite the actor in the drama department back in my day. I was the lead in Oklahoma you know."

"I thought that was Barron Battle," called out a random student.

"Oh…uh, yeah it was," said Boomer, going a little red in the face, "but…uh…I was his understudy. Nobody else could come close to him."

"Nobody else wants to come close to him NOW," replied the random student.

Then everything stopped. No one moved or even breathed as everyone realized that there was someone standing in the doorway to the auditorium who had heard every word. Someone who filled the doorway with his towering, broad shouldered form that was already imposing at only being sixteen years old. Someone whose dark eyes suddenly began to glow like hot embers as a slight snarl curled his upper lip.

"Who…is…talking…about…my…father?"

"Easy Hothead," said Coach Boomer, even feeling a little nervous himself. It was uncanny the way Warren could look so much like Barron whenever he got angry, and he looked extremely angry right now. "Nobody was disrespecting your dad. He was just mentioned in passing because of his parts in the shows."

That seemed to somewhat calm Warren down, but with a snort he turned around and stalked back out into the hallway to the collective sigh of relief of everyone in the auditorium. Even with the robot repairing and cleaning staff there was no way the place could have gotten fixed back up and ready for opening night if Warren had gone on a rampage.

Warren continued down the hallway, anger radiating off him worse than the fire he could create. As if sensing his approach other students scattered until he came to the cafeteria, where he found the rest of the gang already occupying "his" table. He almost stopped and started to turn and leave when Layla spotted him and waved him over. With a silent growl and rolling his eyes he overcame his better judgment and plopped down at the table, taking care to be as far away as possible from anyone. He then noticed Zach was sitting with his head on the table, looking almost green in contrast to his bright yellow clothes.

"What's with him?" Warren grumbled.

"Bright boy's mom was making fruit cake last night and he ended up eating ALL of it by himself." Magenta replied.

"All of THEM you mean," giggled Layla, "they were supposed to be for all of our families. Zach ate FIVE fruitcakes…can you believe it?"

"But they were soooo good," Zach moaned like he was dying, "why does my mom have to be such a good cook?" He followed it up with a loud burp.

"Oh yeah," sneered Magenta, "THAT'S appealing." She then turned to Warren. "So what set you off this time?"

"What do you mean?" growled Warren.

"She means you've got that cute little pout of yours on overdrive," said Layla, "so somebody had to have said or done something within one hundred yards that upset you."

"I don't have a cute little pout," snarled Warren, "and it's nobody's business anyway. Just leave me alone and eat your freaking lunches."

Both Layla and Magenta looked at each other, then simultaneously said "Dad."

"What?"

"Somebody said something about you dad, didn't they?" said Layla, totally unafraid of the subject while Will and Ethan both went pale and even Zach lifted his head with a worried look on his face.

"Just drop it," said Warren, trying to look menacing but knowing he had lost that power over Layla long ago.

"Come on Hothead," said Magenta, "it's okay. So somebody said something about your dad. Don't let it bother you."

"I said to drop it," Warren said, his eyes narrowing as curls of smoke started to appear around him.

"Layla," said Will, getting nervous as flashbacks of his and Warren's fight in the same cafeteria only a couple of months ago kept running through his mind, "maybe you should just drop it."

"Okay," said Layla, "but maybe Warren would feel better and not be so touchy about the subject if he did talk about his…you know who."

Warren looked for a second like he was going to explode, then suddenly all the air seemed to go out of him and he slumped down in his seat.

"Just leave it alone," he said, "but for the record…yeah, somebody made a crack about my dad. I know I shouldn't be so touchy about it…but I've been like this for years."

"But we're your friends," said Layla, "you don't have to be all defensive with us all the time. And I think I'm right about you talking more about it will help you feel better."

"Wow," said Warren, "the hippy thinks she's right about something. Like that's a first."

With that Warren lurched to his feet and left as the rest of the gang, and everyone else in the cafeteria, breathed a sigh of relief that he was leaving.

Warren went outside, hoping the cold air would help clear his head. It was softly snowing, and he realized that the school must have been in another snow cloud, making things look even softer and more magical in the white blanket. He only growled and pulled up his jacket collar at the sound of the snowflakes landing and sizzling into vapor as they struck his hot form filled his ears. He must have been really angry to get that hot, but he was also proud he hadn't burst into flames and started hurling fireballs. Maybe being around the others really was helping him with his self-control after all. But he wouldn't admit it to them; someday maybe, but not today.

Warren started walking down the steps of the school and out across the front lawn. Already the snow was nearly knee deep, but it still hissed as his booted feet made contact with it. In a way he hated it because it disrupted the silence of the falling snow, and he could have really used the peace and quiet right now.

Suddenly a huge snowball slammed down on Warren's head with a loud thump. Although it was softly packed and did no damage, his entire head and shoulders were soaked. He spit out a mouthful of slush and wiped his eyes, his body already evaporating the snow even faster as his temper started to boil up again. He looked around, ready to return the attack with a ball of something far more dangerous than snow, but he didn't see anyone. He looked up into the sky, expecting to see maybe his friend Darryl circling above and laughing at having nailed him. Of course Warren wouldn't throw a fireball at him…at least one that would hit him, anyway. But again there was no one there.

Warren was puzzled for a moment, and then one word came out of his mouth.

"Stronghold."


Hellene Peace had just gotten home when she noticed how cold the apartment was. Though she had lost her power to generate fire years ago, her high body temperature had remained so that natural cold didn't affect her, but the shiver she felt was one she had experienced before.

Without a thought she grabbed a vase and started seeking out the source of the cold, drawn to it naturally. She finally stopped outside the closed door to Warren's room, and silently cursed and prayed at the same time as she saw the pattern of frost that was on the knob. She paused a moment, then threw the door open and charged in, ready to attack.

But the room was empty.

The window to Warren's room was broken in, and it looked like someone had been searching for something from the way it looked, which was even messier than usual for a teenage boy. Everything also had a light coat of frost on it, making it sparkle in the light. Though it was a pretty sight, it instead had an opposite affect on Hellene.

"Not her," she whispered out loud, "not now."


Will was on his way to class when a hand reached out and grabbed him, yanking him into the boys' room. He didn't have time to react as a large handful of snow was mashed into his face and another was shoved down his shirt.

"Now we're even," said Warren, standing back to admire his handiwork as Will gasped and shuddered from the icy cold snow going down his shirt.

"Even," sputtered Will, "even for what?"

"Don't give me that," glared Warren, "you know what I'm talking about."

"I have NO idea what you're talking about dude," said Will as he started pulling out paper towels and trying to dry off as a particularly large piece of slush made it down his shirt and slid into the front of his pants, almost making Will yelp again.

"You just nailed me outside with a freaking huge snowball," said Warren. "Layla must have talked you into it because you can't be that stupid and suicidal on your own."

"I didn't do anything," complained Will, "I was in the cafeteria with the others the whole time. Did you see me do it?"

"No," said Warren, "but somebody who can fly did it, and you're the likeliest suspect."

"Whoa," said Will, "there's a LOT of kids here who can fly. And did you already give your bird buddy Darryl a face washing?"

"Darryl can't fly silently," said Warren, "you can hear his wings flapping a mile away."

"I…didn't…do…it," said Will, standing up to his friend despite the fact Warren still had an intimidation factor that went through the roof.

Warren looked Will in the eye for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

"It wasn't you," said Warren, "sorry buddy."

"Wait," said Will, a little confused, "just like that you know I didn't do it?"

"Yeah," replied Warren, "just like that."

"How do you know? I might be lying."

"Look Stronghold," said Warren as he turned around, "I think you're thick-headed, a little stuck up and get distracted way too easily, but I also know you're not a liar because you sucked at it the few times you've tried. You say you didn't hit me, that's good enough for me."

"So where are you going?"

"To find the jerk that did."


Warren got home a little later than normal, mostly because of the trouble with the weather even the Sky High school busses were having trouble flying in. He had nearly missed his bus anyway as he had been trying to find out who had pelted him earlier, but all the likely suspects had alibis that held. Even Darryl said he hadn't done it, but did admit he would have loved to just to see the look on Warren's face.

"Warren," said Hellene as he walked in, "thank heaven you're home. I was starting to get worried."

"I'm okay Mom," said Warren, noticing how scared his mother was. "What's wrong? Did Dad show up again?"

"No," sighed Hellene, "it wasn't your father…though I'll admit I wish it was only him. At least I know how to deal with him."

Now Warren was getting concerned. He'd never heard his mother talk about being scared of anyone more than she was of his dad. Then again she was never really scared of Barron, just of what might happen if he came around. No, this time she was scared OF someone.

"Have a seat," said Hellene. As Warren did so she got out one of the many scrapbooks she had hidden away. Warren wondered if all super heroes kept such things as records of their past adventures to show to their kids.

"Do you know the basic hero/villain ratio?"

"Yeah," said Warren, knowing the theorem that for every super hero there were ten super villains of equal power. It was also in history, as one would have to name ten such villains for every hero named.

"Well," continued Hellene, "you also know of the arch-enemy theorem."

"Yeah," Warren repeated, "every hero has an arch-enemy who not only is equal in power, but sometimes in a totally opposite way. Brains vs. brawn, darkness vs. light…"

"Ice vs. fire, chaos vs. order," said Hellene. "I was one of the "fortunate" heroines who somehow acquired two arch-enemies. I have a terrible feeling one of them has just reentered my life…our lives.

"Her real name was Isabelle Van Froste, but she's better known as Queen Quiver. She has the power to create ice and snow by freezing any moisture in the air, but she can also suck all the heat out of the air around her, creating a pocket of absolute cold that can freeze anything solid.

"I first met her when I was a senior at Sky High. Your father and I were dating steady…actually we were secretly engaged already. I was out on a practice patrol when I heard an alarm and arrived to find her stealing several large diamonds. That was when I learned the hard way about her power when she froze me in a block of ice in an instant, but thankfully my internal heat kept me from being frozen solid. I broke lose and we pretty much trashed the area with our fight, ending in a stalemate.

"That was when your father arrived. His thunderbolts made short work of her, but she swore to get revenge on me for calling him to help. I hadn't called him, he was just coming to join me on patrol when he heard the fight and came to help. After that Queen Quiver became a nearly constant pain in my…side. She even joined the Enclave of Villains and International Lawbreakers…EVIL…to get help to take me out.

"When your father…when what happened with your father occurred, Queen Quiver seemed content to leave me alone. She claimed she had even spent some time with him, but I know that was a lie…despite everything else your father has remained faithful to our marriage vows."

Warren didn't reply, as he was not as sure as his mother was after having seen Barron in the company of Killerwatt and Lazer.

"But why bring this up now," said Warren, "this is all ancient history…sorry, Mom. I mean if she hasn't done anything in eight years, why would she do anything now?"

"I'm afraid she was here earlier today. Someone broke into your room and tore it up looking for something. Everything was also slightly frozen, but I was able to save it…and we WILL talk about those magazines I found under your bed."

Warren's face went red for a moment, and then he realized his mother was more concerned with what was going on.

"I think Queen Quiver may be looking for you," she said, "she might be trying to finally get revenge on me…and maybe your father too…by attacking you."


The next day at school Warren was again deep in thought as he walked the halls of Sky High, but this time it was concern for his mom rather than being angry about his dad.

"So, you asked anyone yet?"

Warren was startled out of his thoughts and saw Magenta was walking alongside him.

"Huh?"

"You asked anyone out to the dance yet," she repeated.

"Dance? You mean the stupid winter formal? What makes you think I want to go?"

"Well, you did show up at homecoming," said Magenta.

"That was all the hippy's idea," replied Warren, "and I know she'll be going with Stronghold instead of…"

"Instead of who?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything. I've got more important things on my mind than some stupid dance."

"Well, I don't," said Darryl, who popped up on the other side of Warren like he had been there all along. Warren could only roll his eyes at being trapped between the "goth guinea pig" and the "flying surfer dude".

"Speaking of which," said Darryl, turning his attention to Magenta, "have you been…I mean…are you going?"

"Well, bright boy hasn't asked me yet, if that's what you mean," said Magenta.

"Really? I mean…that's too bad…for him, I mean. 'Cause I was wondering…maybe you'd like to go with me."

All three stopped at once. Warren was feeling very uncomfortable standing between the two, and stepped backwards so he was out of the middle but they seemed not to notice as they locked eyes.

"Wait," said Magenta, "Mr. Pretty Flying Boy wants me to go to the winter formal with him?"

"Well, yeah," said Darryl, lowering his head to look at Magenta with big puppy eyes through a tangle of blonde curls. Warren could feel himself getting diabetes from the sweetness.

"I…I don't know," said Magenta, suddenly becoming shy and actually blushing. Warren was becoming suspicious that this was actually some alien clone and not the really goth punker he knew. "I…I'll wait and see if Zach asks me…"

"And if he doesn't?"

"I'll…I'll get back to you," she said.

Warren made himself scarce before the soap opera started spilling onto him, and hoped nobody else asked him about the stupid dance. Like there was anyone he could ask out to it even if he wanted to go. Noel was already going with Jeff, which was interesting considering she had frozen him and his sidekick Frog on the front lawn the first day of school. There was Jade and Kelsey, but both already had dates too. And of course he knew he was right about Layla. No, there was no use trying to ask anyone else either, as his past reputation still made a lot of girls uncomfortable around him. Hopefully he'd be working that night anyway, so he wouldn't have to even think about it.

"Hey, check it out!" somebody cried.

Warren looked along with everyone else to see the huge windows over the main entrance to the school were suddenly freezing over. Great strands of frost looked like plants under Layla's influence spreading, stretching and growing to cover the windows. At first it looked random, but then a pattern emerged and everyone gaped at what they saw.

In large frozen letters there was a message written:

WARREN PEACE MEET ME WHERE YOUR FATHER WAS UNMASKED

Everybody froze as they read the message, and almost as one they turned to see Warren glaring at the message. Without warning his hands and arms burst into flames and with a roar he hurled two fireballs at the windows, instantly blasting the frosty message into vapor. He continued to glare at the unharmed, but now soot-blackened windows as if expecting something else to happen, with everyone else wondering what was going on.


Warren had gone straight to the meeting place without going home, as he knew his mom would keep him from coming. He was so angry he had avoided all of his friends, as he knew they would try to either try to talk him out of coming or try to come along to help. The experience where the gang followed him when he went to see his dad and Will had nearly been seriously injured by Barron and the other villains was still fresh in Warren's mind, and he knew his mom's old enemy would be far more dangerous and intent on hurting his friends.

It was already dark when Warren arrived at the deserted building that had once been the headquarters of the criminal organization that Barron had run in the guise of the Enemy. It was here that Barron had been exposed as a traitor and turned from hero to villain for the world to see.

Warren hated this place. He had come here a few times when he was old enough and had just stared at the cursed ruin for hours on end. More than once he had been tempted to blast the place to ashes with his fireballs, but had decided it was best to keep it as a kind of twisted monument to what his dad had done.

"ALRIGHT," he bellowed into the snowy darkness, "I'M HERE! I KNOW IT'S YOU, "YOUR HIGHNESS", SO QUIT THE STUPID GAMES AND LET'S GET ON WITH IT!"

The air became noticeably colder, even for December. It was a deep, bone chilling cold that almost took one's breath away, and the snow became finer and fiercer along with the dropping temperature.

Down from the night sky dropped a figure, landing a few feet away from Warren. At first he couldn't make out who it was until both the cold and snow stopped like someone had pushed an "off" button. Warren then couldn't believe his eyes.

It was a girl, probably only a couple of years younger than him, though she was still very tall for her age. Her hair was a wild dark mane with pale blue highlights that fell past her shoulders, and her face was perfectly formed with high cheekbones and full blue lips that contrasted with her dark eyes. She was dressed in a turquoise t-shirt and faded, metal studded jeans and matching jacket that could not have kept her the least bit warm, and she wore a pair of boots that matched the ones Warren wore.

"Okay," said Warren, "you definitely can't be Queen Quiver. You're way too young to have fought with my mom years ago."

"Figured it out by yourself," said the girl, her voice dripping with sarcasm to match Warren's own, "I guess you do have a brain after all."

"I'm so glad you approve," said Warren, "now how about you start explaining what you're up to…FAST." To emphasize the last word Warren's hands burst into flame as a warning.

The girl noticeably flinched at the flames, but still stood her ground.

"Wait," she said, "I'll talk. It's just that…well, I don't know where to start."

"Just the basics," said Warren, "then we'll get down to the real business."

"Queen Quiver is my mom," said the girl, "she gave me the codename of Ice Princess, but my real name is Vanessa.

"Let me guess," said Warren, "you want to carry on the family tradition of our moms being enemies, so you broke into my room to find out all you could about me before you attacked. Well, bring it on." The flames shot up Warren's arms to his shoulders, so bright that he stood out like a beacon against the cold.

"No," said Vanessa, "I…I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry I broke into your apartment…but I needed to find information."

"About what? If you don't want to fight with me, why come looking for me?"

"Because I'm looking for my dad. He just got out of prison, but I have no idea where he is and I thought you would know…but I was afraid to just come out and ask you considering the past between our moms."

"Why would I know where your dad is," said Warren, "I didn't even know you existed until now."

"Because he's OUR dad," said Vanessa, the words hitting Warren like a physical blow, "my dad is Barron Battle...

"I'm your half-sister."

To be continued