In preperation of the upcoming holiday season, I have re-written a section from one of my other (failed) stories to make it a stand-alone one shot. If you recognize the story it's from, congrats! If you don't, it doesn't really matter.

Either way, it's been sufficiently altered enough so that everyone can enjoy it (which I hope you do!)

Description: Tin-Tin searches for the perfect Christmas gift for Alan, and has some interesting experiences along the way.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters (except my own invention) contained in this story. All rights belong to Gary and Sylvia Anderson.

Enjoy!

December 20th

I stepped off the bus with a short breath. A small, white puff escaped my lips, and I watched it disappear into the frigid December air as. Other people hurriedly pushed past me as they left the bus and scurried away to get their business done. Why does New York have to be so freaking cold? Pulling the collar of my newly-purchased winter coat closed around my throat, I started making my way through the bustling crowds towards the downtown to finish my last bit of Christmas shopping.

I guess I really only have myself to blame for being stuck in this damn snow. It was true. I couldn't complain to anyone about the chilly weather, considering I had chosen to accompany my parents to the mainland.

As an early Christmas present, Mr. Tracy had offered the use of his New York loft to my parents, so that they could relax and have some peace amidst the chaotic holiday preparations on the island. I had jumped at the chance to see snow again after 5 years of continuously hot, tropical weather. Not that I didn't love living on a beautiful, secluded island, but something about snow had always seemed so romantic and mysterious to me.

We'd been in New York for the past 3 days, and in that time we'd mostly meandered around the city, taking in the snow-covered sights. While it had seemed exciting and inviting on the island, actually being in New York hadn't been that great. It was crowded, freezing cold, and many of the people were just plain rude. But even though being in "the Big Apple" hadn't been the amazing experience I had expected it to be, it still felt good to be out in the world beyond the island, experiencing new things.

Today was the second last day before we were scheduled to return home, so I decided that I wanted to finish my Christmas shopping in person (as opposed to ordering it online and having it shipped to the nearest mainland city to be picked up on the last supply run before the holidays). While my parents had gotten ready to watch a movie, I had headed out to the nearest bus stop.

The only person I had left to buy for was Alan. I wasn't surprised; I always found my boyfriend the hardest to buy for. For the longest time I hadn't been able to figure out why I could never settle on a present for him. Even when we had only been just friends, I had always struggled to come up with something that I was satisfied with. My mother had once told me that it was because I liked him and wanted him to know it without having to tell him. I had always replied that she was dead wrong, but I don't think she ever really believed me. I couldn't say anything about it now, seeing as this year that was exactly the problem.

The others were easy. For my mother I had gotten a wide selection of spa supplies in her favourite scent (honeysuckle and vanilla). For my father I had chosen a bonsai tree- he had always found the little Japanese plants fascinating. Fermat and his father were each receiving a book from their shared favourite science-fiction author, while Mr. Tracy and the other four boys each had a box with books and supplies related to their individual varied interests. It was the youngest blonde Tracy that was causing all the frustration in my otherwise perfect shopping experience.

As I wandered aimlessly through the crowds of last-minute shoppers in Downtown New York, I made a mental list of possible gifts for Alan. All I had so far was an extra-durable adventure watch, new boots or a portable survival kit. His new love for exploring the rougher areas of our undeveloped island home could definitely be counted as a big help for me- he had none of the stuff he would need. But all those gifts just felt so impersonal for some reason. I wanted to get him something really special.

I could feel my patience starting to run thin as I turned around and started my second pass down the crowded, main street. The bright lights, loud, bustling crowds and scratchy old holiday songs being blared from outdoor store speakers definitely weren't helping my mood. After half an hour more of walking past the same store windows with nothing catching my eye, I was just about ready to call it quits and try again before we left the next evening.

I was almost back to the bus stop when I noticed a small store on the other side of the road. The sign was faded and most people were passing it by, but it for some reason it held my attention.

I wanted to go look, but I didn't want to miss the bus back to Tracy Tower. I checked my watch. I still had 15 minutes until the bus came, and the shop was just across the street. Well, the buses are usually at least 5 minutes late. Besides, my parents are probably enjoying their alone time so much, I doubt they'll care if I'm a little late.

I quickly jogged to the nearest street crossing and joined the mob of people crossing in either direction. A horn blared at me when I stepped out of the cross-walk lines, and I had to jump onto the other sidewalk to avoid being run over when the light abruptly changed to green. The street was less crowded on this side, and although it wasn't that much of a difference, I was still grateful.

The shop was small, but full of stuff. The shelves near the front were covered in every kind of souvenir item imaginable while the whole back of the store was bookshelves. A small chandelier hung from the low ceiling, casting a soft light upon the dim room.

A small bell announced my arrival to the man behind the counter, who looked up, smiled, and went back to whatever it was he was tinkering with. I walked farther into the shop while admiring all the objects that were placed in a seemingly meaningless order on the shelves. Looking at all the interesting things that were available, I was surprised that no one else was inside with me. Especially considering all the other stores had been full of people.

A few things caught my eye; an old brass compass, a slingshot and a bag of pellets, a small rocket figurine, but they all seemed off. I was about to give up and return to the bus stop when I heard the muffled approaching footsteps of the shopkeeper.

"May I help you?" he said in a soft, library-appropriate voice. "Are you looking for something in particular?" He had glasses that made his eyes appear slightly enlarged, and his tuft of white hair gave him a peculiar air.

I looked at him and nodded. "I'm looking for a gift for my boyfriend." I replied, turning back to the shelves.

"Ah, another late shopper?" he asked, amused.

I nodded sheepishly.

"Don't worry dear," he said, patting my arm comfortingly. "I know every single item that's in this store. We'll find you the perfect gift for your boyfriend, and get you back to your bus on time."

I looked at him sharply, wondering how he knew I had to catch a bus, when I realised. You idiot, I said to myself, this is New York. Most people take the bus, especially people my age. I shook my head at my own stupidity before following him across the shop to the shelf he was stand at.

He was staring intently at one specific area, and just as I wondered if I should say something, he smiled triumphantly. He pulled a small, flat box out from behind a large jar of buttons and held it out to me proudly.

When I didn't take the box, he shook it, a look of slight amusement on his face.

"Well go on then." He implored. "Take it. I think you'll find it to be exactly what you're looking for."

What have you got to lose?

I took the box from him and gently opened the lid. When I saw what was inside, I broke out into a smile. I hadn't thought of it before, but looking at it lying there, I realised that it was exactly what I had been looking for.

Lying in the box was a necklace. It had a thin leather cord that tied at the back, and hanging from that cord was a silver pendant. It had the look of having been worn many times over many different generations, which only added to its appeal.

I looked back up at the shopkeeper, and I could tell my pleasure now matched his own. He was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels while waiting to see my reaction. When he saw my grin, his grew even wider.

"It's a Native American Thunderbird." He said. "It's considered to be a supernatural bird of power and strength."I gaped at him. "It's very old." He added, and continued to smile.

I couldn't believe it. It was completely and utterly perfect! The pendant showed the proud, mythical bird with its wings outstretched in the middle of flight. The detail was just amazing. I knew that Alan would love it.

I reached into my purse and grabbed my wallet. I didn't care how expensive it was; I had to buy it. The man just stood rocking as I walked over to the counter.

"You'll be purchasing it then?" he asked, even though it was clear from his facial expression that he already knew the answer.

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "How much is it?"

He looked around mischievously before answering. "I'll tell you what. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll give you a special deal." I looked at him in delight. "I can just tell that that necklace belongs with you and your special boy."

He told me the price, and I gladly handed him the money. The cash register pinged when he closed the drawer and handed me my change.

"Would you like me to wrap it?" he asked.

I nodded enthusiastically. He quickly and skilfully wrapped the box in a shiny, silver paper. I took the box, dropped it into my bag, and shot him a grateful smile as I walked to the door.

"Thank you so much!" I said as I pushed open the door and walked out into the frigid cold. While I had been inside it had started to snow, and the air was swirling with small specks of white. All the romantic notions I had about snow returned as the delicate flakes landed on my cheeks. I began to walk towards the crosswalk, but I stopped and looked back through the store window. The shopkeeper was smiling contentedly to himself. I laughed once and then turned to continue on my way.

What a strange, old man. I smiled and chuckled softly. Strange, but endearing. I stuck out my tongue and caught a snowflake right in the middle of it. Maybe New York isn't so bad after all.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you guys enjoyed it.

Please R&R, and HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!