A/N: Ah...the final chapter...sniffles...it's longer than the rest of them too! My rocket power stories have the shortest chapter I've ever written of all my fanfics...except maybe the prologue chapter of The Legend of Bandit, but that's going to be a very, very,long story.

Thanks to those who reviewed,

BlueFirePrincess: You're talking about the Break In (the pilot episode), when TJ gets send to detention. She didn't come up with the plan, she just convinced King Bob to help them break TJ out. Bob calls TJ "some dumb kid" and Spinelli gets pissed, and goes off on a tangent about how he can't call TJ some dumb kid, and how everyone on that playground is just 'some dumb kid'. It's funny as hell. You forgot to mention, The Legend of Big Kid, Spinelli offers to tie TJ's shoes at the end, and in the episode with the trial of Spinelli vs. Randall (who claims she hit him with a rock), TJ convinced Spinelli to take the stand and she says to him, "how do you talk me into these thing?" I can think of a few reasons...hehe...damn it! You started me off on Recess!See how easily I get off track?!? The thing with reviews from me, is I have to first read the story (which involves a lot of motivation, I'll tell you that), and then consider it. It takes me days, if not weeks, to decide whether I'd actually review, and then I have to figure out what I want to say. Lot of work there, but I'm already considering reviewing a few of your fics, so keep your eyes peeled.

TheAngelofAnarchy: Wise choice, (read my message to BlueFirePrincess, hahahahaha! And that's me not even trying to think about it!) Oh man...now that I have my laptop though...getting things up may not take so long...except for the damnedness of work! Oh, and I think you can get your grade up, you're a smart chick-ee (at least you come off that way to me).

VUWildcat: Yup, Otto's looking less like a jerk every second, eh? Hope they have a holly jolly x-mas!

Spice of Life: I watched it too! I skipped out on ice skating (I hate the cold anyways) to watch it. That's dedication. My sister was peeved until I gave her money. She's an unemployed, broke, bum. I love R/T as well, but I would have to say my fav pairing of all time is...um...I'm just a hopeless romantic, I love them all really. Okay, MAYBE, Spinelli and TJ, and directly after (no real space between) is Reggie and Twist, almost tied with Sheen and Libby (because I love them, they're so cute together...) KP (kim possible?)

jovhyz, I got your e-mail. YOU ROCK! It was going to drive me insane, thanks for replying! I'll probably be bugging you again sometime soon...and my Christmas rocked, thank you very much.

ENJOY!

Chapter 10

Cleo sat on the bed, flipping through her magazine for the fourth time that day. She'd grown tired of listening to the same CD, and had finally relinquished control of the radio to Twister, who'd brought a wide collection of his own music, punk rock mostly, a genre that Cleo regarded as distasteful. Now that she was listening to it though, it wasn't so bad, even having a fairly good beat that she bashfully found herself tapping her foot to. Twister himself was laying on a bed with Reggie, the two talking in low voices, briefly pausing every now and then to kiss. Sam was stretched out on the floor, having resorted to reading one of Cleo's fashion magazines to ward off the boredom. He looked up at her.

"Do you think I'm more of a winter, or a fall?" he asked. She tilted her head at him thoughtfully.

"I'd say a definite fall," she answered, before looking back to her own magazine. She glanced back up when Otto made his way in the room, crossing to sit on the bed next to Cleo. She snorted lightly, turning away from her and burying herself back in her magazine.

"Cleo, I know you're mad at me," he started in a rough whisper, and she snorted again, "And you're right to be." She loosened slightly, studying the quickly redeeming himself Rocket boy from the corner of her eye. He rarely admitted that he was the one in the wrong. "I've been acting like a real jerk lately, I know. Sometimes I get so into what's bumming me out, that I don't notice other people are bummed about their deal, which is sometimes, worse than mine."

"Most times," Cleo corrected, before turning to him, "I forgive you. Even if you are a pompous jerk."

"So you're not mad anymore?

"No."

"Great, then you can help me," Otto exclaimed, grabbing a hold of her wrist and tugging her out the door. He paused slightly, going back in the room and grabbing the startled Sam off the floor. Twister and Reggie had turned on their sides, watching in curious surprise.

"What's up with you, Otto?" Reggie demanded, propping herself up and watching her younger brother with suspicion, "You're not gonna drag Sam and Cleo into the snowstorm now, are you?"

"No, Reg, just mind your own business," Otto snapped, shoving Sam from the room and closing the door behind him. He nearly jumped when he turned to the disgruntled faces of his friends.

"What is this about?" Sam inquired tersely.

"Look, Twister doesn't have a gift for Reggie," Otto began and Cleo narrowed her eyes at him.

"He doesn't?" she said.

"He doesn't?" Sam repeated, "How could he not have a present for Reggie? Don't tell me he flaked on this, after everything she went through to get him a great gift!"

"He does too have a gift for her," Cleo interrupted, "Doesn't he? I saw it…I was with him when he bought it! I thought he wanted me to help him pick it out, turns out he just didn't want to look lame, walking in that kind of store by himself…"

"What kind of store?" Sam cried, eyes wide, thinking the lowliest possible. Cleo and Otto scowled at him.

"Mind out of gutter, please, Squid," Otto spat, before looking shamefully to the floor, "It's my fault he doesn't have the gift. He lost it because…because I made him go on the Black Diamond run with me."

"Oh…" Cleo murmured.

"And whatever Twister may have said, it was my idea to go in the storm," Otto went on, "To look for the lost gift; which we never found."

"You're batting a hundred, huh Otto?" Sam muttered, "So why are you telling us this?"

"And what do you want our help with?" Cleo asked.

"It's my fault he doesn't have a gift, so it's up to me to fix things," Otto explained, "And I was kind of hoping you guys had some…I don't know…ideas?"

"But what do you plan to do?" Cleo asked.

"Well, Twister needs something to give Reggie," Otto pressed, "There's got to be something." Sam frowned, lowering his eyes and squinting at Otto.

"I guess he could give her my present," he suggested.

"That's sweet," Cleo told Sam, "But then you'll have nothing to give her. Otto, I think you should discuss this with Maurice. Whatever he gives her needs to be from his heart, something he picked out. It's just not as special any other way."

"I know," Otto sighed, "But he's with Reg. He's really bummed that he doesn't have a gift for her. You should have heard him talking with his mom, I don't think I've ever seen Twister so upset."

"There was that time with the seal…" Sam started, but Otto shook his head.

"Worse than that," he said.

"Oh," Sam mumbled, "It's really that important to him? What did he get her? You know, before he lost it?"

"It was very beautiful," Cleo swooned, "I did not think Maurice was capable of picking out a good gift."

"But what was it?"

"It was lame-o boyfriend to girlfriend crap, completely useless," Otto groaned, "Hey, maybe we could make her a new one. He wanted to give her a necklace…I bet there's string somewhere; fishing wire…and some beads."

"I doubt it will have the same…how should I put this…value," Cleo commented.

"He got her a necklace?" Sam stated in wonderment, "What kind of necklace? Not a candy necklace, right?"

"We should get a candy necklace," Otto exclaimed, "I think I have one somewhere!"

"No," Cleo hissed, before turning to Sam and pleasantly saying, "It was a very expensive piece. 14 karat white gold with three diamond inlays, each one a flawless briolette cut, two weighing at 0.34 carats, one at 0.5 carats..."

"Dude, you know more about the necklace than he did," Otto interjected.

"Well, jewelry is a girl thing," Cleo shrugged.

"Sheesh, I don't know why he bought her the thing, anyways. Reg isn't really like a girl. He should have got her a new surfboard, she's been bugging dad for one," Otto muttered.

"Oh, is that so? How little you know of your sister compared to Maurice. Perhaps he spends more time with the feminine side of Reggie than you…" Cleo mused, chuckling slightly, "Reggie is a tomboy, relentlessly so, but she is still very girly at heart. She has expressed interest in many 'girly' things when shopping with me. Dresses, skirts, make-up, clothes, purses, shoes - not sneakers, mind you - accessories, and yes, jewelry."

"Shut up! That's a lie!" Otto cried, "My sister is not a girl!"

"Otto," Sam whispered calmly, "Think about what you just said." Otto pursed his lips, trembling slightly, before releasing a heavy sigh.

"Damn," he muttered, "My sister's a girl. When did she turn into a girl? When did this happen? Why wasn't I aware? Sam, you're smart, you should have pointed this out to me!"

"I would have thought it was obvious. I mean, Twister figured it out on his own," Sam teased, and Otto moaned, slumping to the floor.

"Oh man," he cried, "Alright…now that we've established that my sister's a…girl…what do we do?"

"Hm…there are no shops in this cabin…but I suppose maybe we could make a symbolic replica," Cleo said decisively, "Something to stand in for the real thing. Then, when we get back to Ocean Shores, Otto can work to pay off Twister for the necklace."

"What? That's the stupidest…"

"You did say it was your fault he lost it," Cleo interjected smugly.

"It's my fault I put him in the position to lose it, you misunderstood," Otto argued, "It's still his fault, I just feel partially to blame. He lost it…because…he's…stupid, like he said."

"Oh, you think my cousin is stupid now?" Cleo pressed, crossing her arms bemusedly over her chest.

"What? Yes…no…yes…I mean, dude, stop it!"

"She's got you cornered, man, this is so funny," Sam said between hearty laughter.

"Shut up, Squid! Unless you have a brilliant plan, can it," Otto snapped.

"Cranky, much?" Sam muttered, "Look, I think we need to talk to Twister. Cleo's right, if he's going to give Reg something on Christmas, it needs to be something he put together. Otherwise, it doesn't have the same affect."

"I know, I know…hmm…Cleo, you have to go in and get Twister, and distract Reggie," Otto declared authoritatively, "Tell Twist I need to talk to him about something."

"That won't work," Sam interrupted, "You really think Twister will be interested? He'll just decide if it's something important, you can come to him. You know how Twister's lazy mind works."

"Okay, fine, tell Twister I have something really cool to show him downstairs, and mention that you have something 'girly' to talk about with Reggie."

"But what will Reggie and I talk about?" Cleo demanded skeptically.

"Come up with something, why do I have to make all the plans?" Otto cried.

"Arguing is getting us nowhere," Sam reminded them.

"I can handle improv," Cleo sighed, reentering the bedroom.

It took some time before Twister walked, begrudgingly, out the door, rubbing the back of his neck warily and glancing back in the room momentarily. He nearly ran into Otto, who stood impatiently waiting in the middle of the hallway, hands on hip, a peevish sneer.

"Took you long enough," he muttered, grabbing Twister arm and dragging him partway to the stairs. Sam lagged behind, glancing nervously to the door, before joining the other two boys.

"What is this about, Otto? Cleo said you had something cool to show me?" Twister cried, jerking his arm away, "I mean, dude, me and Reg were in the middle of a conversation."

"You guys talk all the time," Otto retorted, before dropping his voice to a low whisper, "You have to get my sister something for tomorrow."

"That's what you dragged me out here to talk about? The lost gift? I feel bad enough having nothing to give her without you jumping on my back about it! Jeez, Otto…"

"Oh, shut up, Twister," Otto groaned, "I'm not here to yell at you, I'm here to help you."

"Help me what?"

"Twister, you need a gift, right," Sam spoke up, "If we all put our heads together, we might be able to come up with something that you can give her, that's in this cabin."

"You think Reggie would like moth balls?" Twister asked thoughtfully.

"O-kay…" Sam drawled, "Maybe if Otto and I put our heads together, and you just gave commentary."

"I can do that," Twister agreed.

"I still say we give her fish wire with beads," Otto mumbled, as Sam began pacing back and forth.

"No, I don't think we have any beads. How about you make some cookies for her, I saw flour, sugar, I think there's some eggs in the…"

"I can't cook," Twister put in.

"Darn," Sam cursed.

"This is for Reg, not you," Otto scolded, "Maybe you should make her something."

"There were pine cones by the fireplace, you could decorate one of those and she can put it on her table at home," Sam suggested, "I did that once for my mother."

"What? When you were four?" Otto demanded.

"No, two years ago," Sam muttered sheepishly.

"I'm not allowed to use pine cones for arts and crafts projects, anyways," Twister put in, and the other two boys raised eyebrows at him, "It's a long story, and all I can really say is it involved super glue and a particularly temperamental aunt's wig…"

"Okay," Sam clapped his hands together, "Pine cone ornament out."

"Dude, I thought you weren't allowed to use super glue," Otto commented.

"You're not allowed to use super glue? Why does that not surprise me?" Sam grumbled.

"Yeah. I'm not allowed to use crazy glue, either, or hot glue, hot glue guns, wood glue, and rubber cement,oh, and twine, but that's a completely different and very long story," Twister listed.

"Yeah, I'm still not allowed to use twine either," Otto threw in.

"I don't want to know," Sam moaned, "Oh, I've got an idea!" He turned down the hall as Otto and Twister watched curiously. He reentered the room, and came back with a pencil and a sheet of paper. Quickly, he scribbled something down, then held it up for the two on looking boys to see.

"I-O-U?" Otto read aloud.

"Dude, Sam, you forgot the A and the E," Twister said, grinning at the paper, "And I thought you were supposed to be smart." Otto grabbed the paper away, smacking both Sam and then Twister upside the head.

"Twister is not giving my sister an 'I owe you'!" he snarled, "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"Yeah, if I'm going to write something on paper, why don't I just make her a card?" Twister threw in. Both Sam and Otto paused, turning to look at him.

"That's actually a good idea," Sam said.

"What is?" Twister questioned, looking between the two of them in confusion.

"Make Reggie a card," Otto told him.

-0-0-

Sandy eyed Twister curiously as he came walking down the steps, opening the storage closet and rummaging through it, before exiting with an arm full of paper, pencils, paints, and various other materials. Things that were put in the cabin to preoccupy small children by the landlords.

"¿Mi hijo, qué usted está haciendo?" she asked, watching him intently.

"Nada, mom," he replied, closing the door, smiling crookedly at her and leaving back up the stairs. Raul, who was sitting on the couch next to Sandy reading the paper for the fifth time in their stay at the cabin, looked up.

"¿Cuál era ése alrededor?" he questioned his wife.

"No sé. Él no llevaba las chaquetas y los pantalones del esquí, aunque, así que no me preocupo (I don't know. He wasn't carrying jackets and ski pants, though, so I'm not worried.)," Sandy answered.

-0-0-

Sam, Otto, and Twister sat in a semi-circle on the floor, their materials laid out. Sam was hunched over his paper, tongue pressed to his upper lip, thoughtfully drawing with a granite pencil, and exchanging it every now and then for one of the crayons. Otto was leaned back, furiously splattering paint on his own paper, and Twister was laying on his belly, several granite pencils laid out before him, each bearing different labels, "HB", "B", "2H", and he was holding a pencil labeled "2B". Sam stretched, smiling satisfactorily at his work, and tapping Otto's shoulder slightly, he lifted his paper for the Rocket boy to see. It was a drawing of a square cottage with triangle evergreens dotted in little rows, jutting humps for mountains in the background, and a red ball with legs and a head on the roof.

"I'm going to give it to my mom," Sam explained.

"That's pretty good, Sam," Otto praised.

"I don't know. Don't you think the Santa could be a little rounder," Sam questioned.

"No…no, he looks jolly big enough for me," Otto replied, then showing his own picture. Most of the paint was smeared, but a family of stick-like figures could be identified in the mess, standing around a large green pyramid resembling a decorated Christmas tree with presents beneath.

"It's for Cleo," Otto mumbled shyly, "I felt bad that she wouldn't be with her family…you know, so I thought I'd paint her a picture of hers so it would be like she is…it's stupid…"

"It's really nice, Otto," Sam told him, "I like all the colors you used on the tree."

"Thanks."

The boys looked to Twister expectantly, who was chewing the end of his pencil.

"Let's see what you got, Twist," Otto spoke up, drawing the distracted redhead from his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, I didn't know what to draw," Twister admitted sheepishly, "So I was just doodling until something struck me, it's not that good…" he lifted the paper for them to see. It was an incomplete portrait sketch of Reggie smiling softly, a necklace, obviously the one Twister had bought and lost, adorned her neck. He'd been filling in the shadows, darkening the outlines, and giving a more delicate attention to the detail. For a picture drawn from memory, it was more than accurate.

Sam and Otto smiled meekly, bashfully turning their own pictures over.

"That's…" Otto started.

"Amazing," Sam finished, "You should give her that, when it's finished, of course."

"Yeah. She'd love it," Otto put in.

"I did work really hard on it," Twister pondered, then grinning, "Yeah. I'll give this to her. You really think she'll like it?"

"Dude, she'll be stoked," Otto assured him.

-0-0-

When the picture was done, Twister coated it with some of Cleo's hairspray, then carefully folded it and placed it in a small box left over from when the ornaments were put on the tree. He placed it on top of the fireplace, snagged one of the sugar cookies left out for Santa Claus, sniggering at how childish the parents had been about leaving the milk and cookies, as he ascended the steps to the bedroom to sleep.

The following morning, Otto was the first one to wake up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glancing at the digital clock by the bed. It read 5:40 and he groaned, throwing the blankets off his body and shivering as his bare feet touched the ice cold of the cabin floor. Carefully stepping over the sleeping forms of Lars and Twister, quietly opening the door, and stumbling down the stairs. He walked into the kitchen, past the table, the back door, the window, the sink, to the refrigerator. He opened the door, searching for a milk carton. Paused. Backtracked past the sink to stop at the window and gape.

When Otto gave a yell, Ray and then Tito were the first ones to run into the kitchen. But the stampeding at the steps foretold that the others were soon to follow. They threw the kitchen door open, crowding in the small area.

"What are you yelling about, son, is everything all right?" Ray demanded, wearing a worrisome expression.

"The storm," Otto stammered, pointing out the window, "It's…"

"Oh, mi dios," Sandy gasped.

"It's amazing," Mrs. Dullard commented, "Simply wonderful…how is it possible?"

"Es un milagro," Raul spoke up, placing his arms around Lars and Sandy's shoulders, and smiling to Cleo and Twister.

"It's impossible," Sam stuttered, "The storm can't of passed already. I checked the satellite photos of the atmosphere, the barometer… it should have lasted at least two more nights…"

"Sammy, don't ever look for a career in meteorology," Reggie teased, patting him heartily on the shoulder.

"He's talking about the weather, Reg, not meteors," Twister told her and she rolled her eyes.

"Let's go," Otto snapped, pushing his way by and latching on to the arms of Twister and Reggie, who grabbed on to Sam, and dragging them all to the front door. He grabbed his boots, that sat drying beside the entryway, pulling them on and jerked his jacket from the coat hanger, he thrust open the door and ran out into the fresh snow.

"Otto," Ray called warningly, but stopped, "We're not snowed in," he smiled as the other kids pulled on their own winter clothes and rushed out, "It's amazing. We just keep getting luckier."

"Snowball fight," Sam cried, throwing a packed ball of the white stuff through the air and watching with disappointment as it whizzed past Twister and faltered harmless to explode on the ground. He was shaken back when he was hit with the slush by a well aimed throw from Reggie. She grinned at him. The others joined in, quickly pummeling one another with snowballs, until they were all drenched and fallen on the ground panting from the running.

"You kids going to come in and open presents, or what?" Ray asked.

"Can we open them out here?" Twister asked, looking very much like a child leaning back in the snow soaking wet.

"Yeah, dad, I'm sick of the indoors," Otto joined in, "I need to get as much fresh air as I possibly can!"

"Come on, kids," Mrs. Dullard called, "You all need to eat some breakfast, and change into proper winter wear before you all catch pneumonia…or the flu…or dysentery…or…!"

"We're coming, we're coming," the kids chorused, pulling themselves from the snow and trudging to the door, looking back longingly as though expecting snow to start falling the moment they entered the cabin. The tree was overflowing with brightly wrapped presents, spilling from beneath the tree, and the plate full of cookies was nothing but crumbs and there was little left but milk residue in the glass.

The adults had already gathered around, sitting on the couch, and waiting as the kids pulled off their jackets and boots. They plopped around together on the floor, Tito taking position as official present-giver. He lifted out one for each person, handing them around. There was unwrapping and admiring. Others began finding their gifts for family members and friends, eagerly exchanging. Sam's presents were all mechanical and useful, Reggie's were all thoughtful, Twister's were all very confusing, and Otto's were all sports related or simply conceited. He'd even given Twister a framed picture of himself pulling off a move on his roller blades.

"Gee…thanks Otto," Twister mumbled, squinting at it. Reggie came over to where Twister sat, his loot piled up beside him. She knelt on the floor and held out her gift.

"I know you feel bad, that you lost my gift," she said, "But I still want you to have yours." Otto elbowed Twister hard in the shoulder, clearing his throat loudly.

"Oh, I did have something to give you," Twister whispered sheepishly, standing up and retrieving the small plain unwrapped box on top of the fireplace. He handed it over, "It's not really that great…I just didn't want you to have nothing from me."

"Thanks, Twister," Reggie smiled. She held the box gently to herself, watching anxiously as he opened his gift. He grinned.

"Wow, Reg, this is a great camera," he exclaimed, "Digital, comes with a 8M memory stick…USB and Firewire ports…" She let out a sigh of relief, smiling.

"So it's a good one?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's a really good one," he assured her, brushing his lips against hers, then frowning slightly, "My present's not as good."

"Twister," Reggie mumbled, "I think I'll be the judge of that." She smiled, lifting the lid off of the box. She had to pull the paper out, to unfold it and see the picture. She startled when an object slid from the middle, reacting in time to catch it in the palm of her hand. She'd given a slight cry of surprise and the other occupants of the room turned to her. Twister narrowed his eyes, confused as Reggie opened her hand. It shone brightly in what little light was let into the room, sparkling with every slight movement. It seemed everyone drew in their breath at once, openly staring at the beautiful creation.

"What the…?" Otto began

"That's the necklace…how did it…?" Twister gasped, gaping.

"Twister…what is this?" Reggie asked, looking up questioningly to him.

"That's the necklace I bought you," he answered, "But I lost it on the slopes…"

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation for how that got there," Sam spoke up, "I mean, isn't there? Are you sure you had the box on you at all, Twister?"

"I checked it in my pocket on the way up to the Black Diamond run," Twister insisted.

"The what run?" Ray cried incredulously, "Isn't that an expert run, a run I forbade you kids, Otto, to go on?"

"Twister, what is wrong with you?" Otto demanded.

"Sorry," Twister mumbled.

"You really bought this for me?" Reggie said, stunned, "I wanted it…how did you know…"

"I guess even Twister can't be wrong all the time," Sam commented, and Twister grinned, as Reggie wrapped her arms around him.

"Thanks Twist," she murmured, "Nobody's ever gotten anything like this for me before."

"No problemo," Twister told her, "So, I guess you won't be needing to see that picture, huh? I'll just take it…"

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that," Reggie exclaimed, pulling back and unfolding the paper. She stared at the picture, running her fingers along the different lines, "Wow, did you draw this?"

"It's not that good, I know…" Twister shrugged, "I was just messing around…"

"What are you talking about, mi hijo?" Sandy said, coming over and taking the portrait from Reggie, "This is beautiful." Twister blushed.

"That's really impressive, little cuz," Tito commented.

"Twister drew that?" Ray questioned, "That's amazing."

"Thanks," Twister said, walking towards the kitchen holding Reggie's hand, "Are we gonna eat breakfast, yet?"

"I'm going to go call my parents," Cleo announced, "The phone lines must be back up by now."

"Um…Cleo…" Otto said, stepping up sheepishly, "I…kind of…made this for you…because…well, I felt bad for busting on my deal when yours was way harsher." He held out his painting for her, and she smiled somewhat, taking it and opening it up, "I know it's not as…uh…well, I'm not very talented in this area like Twister."

"This is very sweet, Otto," Cleo told him, pecking him lightly on the cheek before turning into the kitchen where the phone was. Otto turned a deep shade of red and Lars slipped an arm over his shoulders, pinching his cheek mockingly.

"Ah…looks like the little munchkin has a crush," he teased.

"Get off me, Lars," Otto snapped, pushing the older boy away and stalking to the kitchen grumpily.

Twister connected the pendant around Reggie's neck, brushing lips, and entering the kitchen as well. Sam followed, smiling broadly.

"Merry Christmas, everyone," he said.

"Feliz navidad," Twister put in.

"Are we going to have a Christmas turkey?" Sam asked, "And mashed potatoes? And cranberry sauce? What about ham? Honey glazed? Can it be honey glazed?"

"And fish tacos!" Twister added excitedly, receiving odd looks, "What?" Reggie shook her head at him, pulling him down into a kiss and Otto rolled his eyes. Ray placed his hands on both their shoulders, and they broke apart.

"Let's give me a merry Christmas, and have you two…I don't…not do that until, maybe…after lunchtime?" he asked. The others broke into laughter as Reggie scowled and Twister grinned sheepishly.

"The first noel, the angels did say, was too certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay," Mrs. Dullard sang, beginning to cook some eggs and placing a pot on the stove to heat up some hot chocolate, Tito joined her in the kitchen, and along with Ray in song, "In the fields where they lay, keeping their sheep…"

"On a cold winter's night that was so deep," Sandy and Raul began as well, arms wrapped around one another. The kids sat around the table. They could hear Cleo on the phone with her parents.

"Hola, mama y papá. ¿Cómo es cada uno?" she was saying, "Ah, bien. Feliz navidad a usted también.…"

Reggie lay her head against Twister's shoulder, watching as he, Otto, and Sam talked excitedly about what they planned on doing that day and how they hoped to utilize their presents on the mountain. Lars stood beside his parents watching, thanking Mrs. Dullard politely when she handed him a mug of hot cocoa, topped off with marshmallows.

"Noel, noel, noel, noel…born is the king of Israel."

END A/N: I haven't told you guys about the dog we got. He's an Alaskan malamute (you know, the dogs that pull the sleds? despite popular belief, those aren't huskies, they're malamutes, huskies are too small)/Timberland wolf mix. He's such a sweetheart, too, his name's Dargo (which is what happens when my family is watching non-stop Farscape episodes around the time they get a new pet). He just needs to learn to not shit in the house. Anyways, I hope you liked the ending of this story. I decided to end it with my personal favorite Christmas carol, though originally the song was going to be "Feliz Navidad". Oh well.

The finding of the necklace in the end was going to be different too. Otto was going to find the package in the snow outside...but obviously, that changed (around the time I decided Twister would put something else together for Reg). And about that second gift, I noticed in the series that, while Twister is extremely talented artistically, he doesn't get that he is. That's why he's kind of all like, "Yeah...I was just doodling, it doesn't look that good..." And where did they get all the art supplies? Some probably belonged to Twister, he might of brought them along, just in case he had nothing else to do.

Anyways, I have to register for my classes next semester. I'm planning on taking two art classes (as if one wasn't enough last semester, I aced it though)...but I just have to register. I work (and close -groan-) tonight, so I'll probably look over the class catalogue when I get all my stuff done. Breaking down that make-table is pain in the ass, but at least I'm not a driver...though, they do make tips...argh! I have to go get ready for work, shit!

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors ('cause I didn't proofread, but I'll probably read over it tomorrow before work anyways), and GO REVIEW!

Thanks for reading, and have a happy new year (the year's over already?!?)! Someone should write a New Year's one-shot...hm...