~Same with this one? We'll pretend it went up yesterday? I'll try to get another one posted tonight to get us back on track.~

Dr. Drakken is so excited, he can hardly stand it.

He certainly can't sit. His backside rejects every surface as though it is made of hot coals, and he bounces from foot to foot as Lapis settles herself with stunning calm beside the tree skirt, her own skirt coming to a rest around her small, impish body, which matches the smile she mails him.

"You can go first," she says knowingly.

Bless her. Drakken scrambles to the left side of the tree and retrieves his package, with the wrapping paper that somehow came out crinkled and torn even with the care he took in taping it and the ribbon that didn't quite tie into a symmetrical bow the way they always do on Christmas commercials. He sends it across the floor toward Lapis, suddenly feeling shy. "Here," he says.

This is a new one for him – more anticipation for the present he gives.

Lapis blinks at the box. When she smiles this time, it is dripping with politeness and scrambling for sincerity. "Um, it's a very nice box," she says. "What do you expect me to do with it? Should I put stuff in it?"

Ohhhhh. She thinks that this is – and it's clearly not what she wants – and she's still trying….

Drakken finds himself down on the knotty carpet, spasming with laughter, the stitch in his side throbbing like a paper cut. He cannot get it together enough to explain to her and is grateful when Shego jumps in with, "Your present is in the box, Lapis."

"Yes, indeed!" Drakken lifts himself from the floor and wipes some hysteria-induced wetness from his eyes. "I put the present in a box and wrapped the box up so the present would be a surprise!"

"Oh." Lapis glances at Shego. The giggle begins, the one that would sound almost too dainty for this world were it not for the underlying snort. "Like how we put his in a bag?"

Shego nods, the corners of her mouth scooting up.

Drakken's knees wriggle under him, rendering his crawl across to Lapis perilous. "And now, you get to unwrap it!"

Lapis is far ahead of him. She turns the box over, finds the taped seam of the paper, and methodically separates it until Drakken's sure he's ground his dental enamel into powder.

"You can rip it, you know," he says. "It doesn't have to be neat!"

Lapis does pull the last few hunks of paper away more roughly – not anything that can qualify as a rip. That she saves for the box itself, whose second layer of tape she breaks through as though it is as flimsy as the Styrofoam peanuts that she picks up, examines briefly, and then tosses back over her shoulders when Drakken assures her they are not her present either.

Out tumbles a tall, thick candle. Lapis stares at it, blinking.

"It's a candle," she says.

"No, doy," Shego mutters. Lapis shows her tongue to her.

"Open it!" Drakken's hands begin to bounce between his thighs like he's having a seizure. "Smell it! It's vanilla!"

Lapis pops the lid off the top and bends down to sniff the candle. Her eyes close for a long moment and when they reopen, they gaze back at him from a safe pouch of a place. "It smells like the day we first met," she says.

In spite of the chill that has forced him to wear a woolen sweater over his lab coat and matching socks, it is the first day of spring inside Drakken.

Lapis nearly buries her nose in the wick and inhales the scent again. On her exhale comes a "Thank you."

Drakken nods, not trusting himself to speak.

"Now open yours." Lapis pushes the aforementioned bag toward him and wraps her arms around her still-bare knees.

Oh, goody! Drakken plucks some tissue paper from the bag and bumps his grip around in it until it resurfaces holding a small robotic bird, a metal miniaturization of the real thing, its beak a steely silver, very similar to one he dallied with at the toy store on their second meeting.

"Oh, Lapis," Drakken says. His throat chokes. "This is… this is…tech."

Lapis's shrug is entirely too careless. "I thought you'd like it. I thought about getting you the robot-wolf, but I know you already have Commodore Puddles, and I thought he might be jealous."

He interrupts her with a hug. The rudeness and the kindness surely must cancel each other out.