Part 4: The X-Men who Came In from the Cold

The last box was finally wrapped. It wasn't easy finding presents for everyone, but Kitty had finally found appropriate ones. She hoped.

Now she was joining a few of the others who'd come in early from the snowball fight to get cider, hot cocoa, and treats ready. Then they'd sit around the fire and read Christmas stories. She had prepared a special surprise ahead of time. She had learned all of "The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus" by Ogden Nash, and was going to perform it for everyone.

The lines got mixed in with her efforts to prepare the goodies.

In Baltimore, there was a boy... Good. The cider was where she had left it in the fridge, and only a few people had tasted it before she managed to get it into a large pot on the stove. In school, he never led the classes. He hid old ladies' reading glasses. That wasn't like any student here, of course. She grinned. Now, where was the milk for the cocoa?

He said he acted thus because there wasn't any Santa Claus. That was just silly. Of course there was a Santa Claus, just like there was hope, love, and joy at Christmas. Two tablespoons of cocoa, some sugar, and some special add-ons for the adults. She had bought some Godiva Liqueur this year as a special treat to spice things up. Speaking of spices, had she put the cinnamon into the cider?

Slunk like a weasel or a marten through nursery and kindergarten, whispering low to every tot, "There isn't any! No, there's not!" Darn it. She added the spices at last and stirred the liquid. Oh, and she couldn't forget the muffins either. She got out as many as she could cram onto a plate and stuffed it into the microwave. The whipped butter was next.

The children wept all Christmas Eve...well, more likely they'd complain, if she forgot to get enough cups together for their drinks. She loaded cups, plates, knives, napkins, and a few extra sprigs of holly onto a cart and ran them down to the room.

No infant dared hang up a stocking for fear of Jabez' ribald mocking. There were tons of stockings hanging up, of course, including hers. She mechanically arranged the things she had brought on the already groaning table and then ran back to check on ... THE COCOA! Rats. It was boiling. She turned down the heat and stirred it vigorously.

When presently, with scalp a-tingling, Jabez heard a distant jingling. The microwave beeped, signaling that the muffins were ready. She took them out, and then popped more in. She checked the cider again and checked on the cocoa. Well...it wasn't TOO bad. She loaded up the cart and unloaded it again.

Jabez beheld, oh awe of awes, the fireplace full of Santa Claus. The fire needed tending. She put on some more wood and then hurried back to the kitchen. The cider was finally ready, and she poured it and the cocoa into separate containers (after a near mistake) and hurried them out to the table. She arranged the holly a little, then headed back to the kitchen.

"It isn't I, it's YOU that ain't. Although there IS a Santa Claus, there isn't any Jabez Dawes!" "WHOA!" she shrieked as she slipped on some ice in the kitchen and fell through the floor. She floated back up into the room, but she was angry. If she had been someone else, she could have been really hurt! She took out a large black marker and spent a few minutes making signs saying "Wipe your feet, PLEASE!" and hanging them up on the doors.

Finally, everything was just about ready. No trace was found of Jabez Dawes. She wiped off her hands and looked around the room. Treats, decorations, utensils, all were ready for the cold and hungry crew from outside. She turned around and was surprised by a hard, fast kiss from Bobby. "Hey!" she managed to get out before he kissed her again and stepped back, smiling.

"What was that for?" she asked, trying to sound annoyed but, she had to admit, failing.

"Can't a man just want to kiss you?" he said in an overly innocent tone. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked up at the ceiling in suspicion. Great. Some joker had hung mistletoe up there, and there was no way she could reach it.

She walked away before Bobby could grab her again, prompting an "Awwww....you're no fun" from him. The saucy boy who told the saint off. The child that got him, licked his paint off.