The briefing was a rehash of one they'd heard before, and Jack hadn't cared for it much the first time.

"You all know that Emperor Grumm has been unusually quiet lately," Kat Manx was saying, her ever present clipboard held near her chest, "but we have no reason to suspect that he is taking the holidays off. As you should know, few aliens celebrate Christmas-"

"Lucky them," Jack muttered under his breath.

"-but what you may be unaware of," Kat continued, pretending not to have heard the interruption, "is that most aliens arrive to Earth with absolutely no knowledge of the holiday. They can be startled by the bright lights, frightened of decorations such as plastic reindeer and snowmen."

"Plastic men, you mean," Syd whispered, but Kat ignored her as she had Jack.

"There are even races who find the idea of bringing a tree indoors to be offensive."

"I can see how tree murder could be considered offensive," Z remarked.

"It's not just the live trees," Chief Anubis Cruger told her, "There is at least one community of normally peaceful aliens who take exception to the idea of manufacturing and displaying fake trees."

"The point is," Kat said, slightly raising her voice to reclaim possession of her briefing, "these are seasonal issues. In addition to the normal criminal element, there are also Christmas criminals, who normally wouldn't cause any trouble. Some are out to make problems on purpose, but some are just frightened or confused. If and when you are called upon to deal with alien related problems, keep in mind that your apparent criminal may not be vandalizing colored lights out of spite, but because they don't realize those lights aren't a threat. Be prepared not only to make arrests, but also offer explanations. Newcomers to Earth can be thrown by its customs."

"There is, as always, another side to the story," Cruger said, taking over the briefing, "As there are aliens who are offended by the idea of fake trees, there are also humans who are unwilling to share their holiday with others. Usually these people already have problems with aliens and may have criminal records relating to that. But there are those who appear to have no issue with aliens normally, but who react violently when they see aliens participating in a uniquely Earthen holiday. They may attack -or otherwise harass- aliens they meet, especially in shopping centers. So just because we get a report of an alien causing a problem, don't assume. Assess the situation when you get there. Your victim may, in fact, be the perpetrator."


"Where's your Christmas spirit now?" Jack asked of Bridge, who failed to answer.

They had been dismissed from the briefing and were walking back to the rec room.

"Hey," Syd protested from behind Jack, "a few bad eggs don't mean Christmas is a sham, Jack."

"Don't they?" Jack tossed over his shoulder, "You guys are claiming that there's a special feeling, a special energy, just for Christmas. I don't feel it, and obviously there are also other people who don't. And some of the ones who feel it, they don't feel peace and love. They feel anger and get violent. How does your wonderful idea of a perfect holiday explain that?"

"Simple," Bridge volunteered.

"Simple? From you?" Jack raised his eyebrows, "I can't wait to hear this."

Bridge didn't say anything at first, until Sky nudged him with his elbow.

"Go for it," Sky told him.

"Okay," Bridge said, sounding a bit more hesitant than usual to explain what he thought about things, "Think of it like magnets."

"Magnets," Jack nodded thoughtfully, "Okay, I'm with you so far."

They had by this time stopped walking, and were standing around in the empty hallway. It seemed an odd place for this sort of discussion, but it was the sort of discussion you couldn't have while walking either.

"Well, not really like magnets," Bridge said, "You see, magnets are attracted to their opposite, not their match. So it's less like magnets and more like... well, more like emotions. You see-"

"Skip to the part where this starts making sense," Jack interrupted.

"Right. Okay," Bridge paused, evidently running several sentences in his head before finding the place he wanted to continue from, "People like spending time with people who are like them. For kids, that means other kids who share a favorite color or animal or something. When they get older, people tend to spend time with people who like the same foods, the same sports team, the same hobbies. It's not so much having the same opinion of things, a lot of people can get along even if they have different political opinions. Some of them even have discussions about politics that don't ruin anything. But that's only if they both enjoy having the discussions."

"Bridge," Jack broke in again, "What's that got to do with Christmas?"

"I'm getting there," Bridge said, then sighed and stopped talking.

He was thinking again, evidently determined to -if only this once- make himself understood.

"Okay, here's the point: good people respond positively to goodness."

"That I could follow," Jack said, "Now go on."

"Because nobody is all good or all bad, not like in movies, you get different degrees of positive response. Because the spirit behind Christmas is overwhelmingly good, even perfectly if you'll accept that, even people who are only a little good are improved by contact with it."

"Sure, we'll pretend that makes sense," Jack nodded.

"But people who are bad react negatively to goodness. The more bad they are, the more negatively they react. They see all the happiness around them and, because they themselves can't have it or feel it, it makes them angry and they want to control or destroy it. They want to buy it off a shelf or blow it away with a shotgun. They can't stand seeing that they themselves are empty, so they decide to take it out on the holiday, and anyone who benefits from it."

"Okay," Jack said, taking a deep breath, "Now I just want you to explain one more thing to me."

"Sure," Bridge agreed.

"What's with you and Christmas? You're Jewish."

"That doesn't mean I can't feel goodwill when it comes my way," Bridge told him, "If somebody says 'Merry Christmas', that's not all that different from 'have a nice day', except it means more to them, and they usually really mean it, so it's not as casual and offhand. If people can find a reason to look for miracles, to see something or someone beyond themselves and make an extra effort to make the world a nicer place, if only for a little while, why should I get in the way of that?"

"Nicely said, Bridge," Sky commented, "I feel the same way when you say 'Happy Hanukkah."

"See?" Bridge said, "The only reason people who celebrate different holidays can't get along is because they want only their own to be special. Those people aren't the good ones. They're the selfish ones. The good ones are happy that you're happy and want to help contribute to you being happy. By giving of themselves, they receive a greater gift than can be wrapped in a box."

"I'm sorry, Sky," Jack said, "I should have known the holiday special speech wouldn't be coming from you," he turned to Bridge, "You're really weird, you do know that, right?"

"I know," Bridge nodded agreeably, "But I'm also right."

"There's one flaw in your story," Jack disagreed.

"Really? What is it?"

"Me," Jack said, "I'm happy. Sure, I'm happy. But not any more or less happy than any other time of the year. A little annoyed by this obsession afflicting the masses, but that's got nothing to do with whether it's Christmas or not, that's just because people are all making a big deal out of nothing, not to mention the part where the worst of humanity shows up in all the greed this particular holiday breeds. By your theory, I ought to feel something. Different, either better or worse. But I don't."

"That's because you don't want to," Bridge replied, "You've closed your mind and heart, so nothing can get in. That's why you don't feel anything."

"Hey, I'm open minded," Jack protested, trying to deny the sting Bridge's words had, "And I got a lotta love for people. You remember what I was doin' before I got roped into this SPD bit, don't you?"

"We try not to," Sky said, patting Jack's shoulder, "If we did, then we'd have to arrest you. Now, I have somewhere I'd like to be today. I asked Cruger, he told me to clear it with you."

Jack felt he'd dropped a stitch somewhere. The subject had abruptly changed, even though he didn't feel like they had finished the conversation. Floundering, it took him a second to answer.

"Where are you going? You got a hot date or something?"

"Or something," Sky replied, looking away, a shadow falling across his face that had nothing at all to do with the lighting.

Jack sensed that Sky didn't want to talk about it. Whatever he was going to do, it evidently wasn't going to be happy, and he didn't want to share it with the others. Jack tried to think when Sky had last asked for a day off. He came up with the answer: roughly never. Sky lived every second for SPD, he had no outside interests, not even a single hobby that didn't tie directly to being SPD.

"Okay, sure. Just make sure you keep your Morpher on you in case of an emergency."

"Always," Sky replied, then added, "Thanks, Jack."

Sky walked quickly away from them down the hall, and Jack jerked a questioning thumb in the direction he'd gone.

"What's with him?"

Z looked just as quizzical as Jack, but Syd and Bridge knew something they were evidently hesitant to say. It was Syd who eventually answered, perhaps because her friendship with Sky didn't run anywhere near as deep as Bridge's did, so she felt able to speak about it.

"The last time Sky saw his father alive," she said quietly, "it was five days before Christmas. An officer came on Christmas Eve to say Sky's father had been killed. But, for Sky, his father died the day he went away. He always spends this day away from SPD. I think, if only on this day, it actually hurts him to be here when his father isn't anymore."

Jack felt more deeply puzzled than ever. He understood now why Sky wanted to leave, but what he didn't get, couldn't begin to understand, was why that event in Sky's life hadn't ruined Christmas for him forever.

"If his father died near Christmas, how come he's so high on it?" Jack asked.

Syd opened her mouth to answer, but Bridge spoke before she could.

"You'd have to ask him. All that matters to me is that he does love Christmas, and that gives him a little comfort at a time when he's really hurting. That's good enough for me."

It seemed like that was the clearest, simplest, most sensible thing Jack had ever heard Bridge say.