I open my eyes

by Seraphine Rose

Sometimes when your about to lose something very precious, you have to open your eyes to understand. I'm not very good at summarizing, its DS and JT rated for suicide and general angst. WIP

5. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays

A/N sorry it took so long guys, I really did try to keep it going but it was all I could do to get through one section a night and then I got the new Harry Potter book….:sweatdrop: Ugg. Anyway, I hope no one was disappointed with my ending of last chapter, I admit I got lazy and pretty bored ( I think I'm getting sick so I'm not having much enthusiasm lol, plus I must say every thing seven or eight times so I'm getting bored) and hopefully I will interest myself when I get to write depressing stuff again (:has gotten incredibly sick of lovey dovey ness:) But I'd like to thank all of my reviewers once again for your amazing support and positive feedback. You guys( and gals) are what keep me typing even when I don't want to! So keep reading and reviewing and I'll keep writing! Read, Review, and make an author happy

Oh, I want (for the first time) to address a particular reviewer I received a response from. I love all reviews I get from people (It's the only thing that keeps me writing) especially when they like what I've written but this one especially touched me and I feel the need to address the person. It was written by The O.W.M.I.N and if you read what this person wrote you'll understand why I'm addressing them.

The O.W.M.I.N- I'm glad you got something substantial out of my story and that you could relate to the characters in that way. I know what its like to be that way too and I'm very glad it opened your eyes, no one deserves to feel that way no matter the circumstances and I'm humbled that my story made a difference to you. Thanks for telling me so, it's the best gift an Author can get, the knowledge that their writing made a difference.

My other loyal reviewers and readers- There are so many of you and I wish I had the time (and the words) to thank each of you personally, you keep me writing and boost my spirit when I'm having a rough patch in my writing. Know that your encouragement is extremely welcomed and more appreciated then you can ever imagine, whenever I think of giving up on this story I think about how alot of you look forward to reading and that keeps me trudging on, even if I have to stumble along the way. Thank you so much.

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom(nickelodeon) or the song "Merry Christmas Happy Holidays"(N'Sync) or the quote on success by Ralph Waldo Emerson (or Betsy Stanley depending on who you believe said it first)

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
We've been waiting all year for this night
And the snow is glistening on the trees outside
And all the stockings are hung by the fireside
Waiting for Santa to arrive

Family should never be broken apart, it is a child's first world until the tender age they must break the foaming surface of society; Family gives a youngster the strength and knowledge to be a family to a friend, to accept the return love without fear. Every parent tries to push their child to the highest point, give the love and support every young man and woman needs no matter how embarrassed they are to admit such a thing. It is a parents' job, a families' job, to catch them when they fall, to share the tears of disappointment and thrill of victory, to be a shoulder to cry on and person to lean on with a decision goes awry, when there is nowhere else to turn. Why, then, did it seem the only true family unit seemed to be an unruly group of teenagers, huddled together against the world? Where were the adults to guide and aide them?

Baubles and tinsel, mistletoe and holly, pieces of a tradition far forgotten and a meaning losing every bit of importance as the years went by. Holding an old, worn fabric heart in her hands, the edges frayed from years of wear and the edges glued to keep aligned, a weary auburn haired woman contemplated how easily things in life broke. IT began so easy, love, life, family, like the beginnings of the old ornament it too sparkles in the beginning with dreams as the glue and hope the soft covering. Everything feels good when you start out, when your lover is still tender and children still small, when the dangers are nothing more then an open electrical socket or tiny toy. Family, Love, Dreams were all you needed…

'So what happened?' Maddie thought, laying the ornament gently in the tissue paper protecting it, the memories surrounding the simplistic decoration faded and sketchy after so many years. Like so many things, her memory began to weaken and the clarity of youth, the dreamer that once entered reality with so much promise, finally became forced to succumb to the harshness of existence. Now, the one sure thing in life began to crumble and all but the adults seemed to be able to except it.

Adults always told children to act their age, to grow up because one day they will have to so why bother pretending? Why waste time playing when you could learn and someday be successful? Perhaps it was the children that needed to teach to the adults life's' little lessons, somewhere along the paths that stretch beyond sight age killed in a person the morals and values once so important. No matter the circumstances, a young child never forgot family nor the love they carried for a mother or father; despite hatred, despite pain, even if striking down that young mind with harsh words and physical abuse, that little hand still stays to help you up, to offer a hug and support you. Could the same be said for adults? They fought and screamed, beat and kicked and for what? The desire to always be right, to prove something inconsequential to a person so set in their ways they cannot see the chance to change? Why did it seem that the older one became, the less family and love meant, replaced by the importance to obtain money and power? Already the greed had begun, the heart wrenching realization almost taking someone dear to everyone, the remaining surrounding her so caught up in a world of coming out on top that no one noticed until it came to close.

Jack did love her, he proved that everyday but as a family, as a unit, it seemed she and the children came second in his heart, the need for respect of more importance then their health or happiness. Already their daughter faded, stricken down by their neglect towards her, and the most disgusting fact of it was Maddie knew it was to late to change matters between them. Their children were nearly grown, far beyond the knowledge and guidance of their parents, what little respect once gained in their eyes whittled down to a burnt stump. Neither Jack nor Maddie deserved the love or respect of young adults they had long since ceased to recognize. It boggled her mind to see them step forward, even in a situation that dragged them to the depths of hell, to help one another always leaning and being leaned upon without complaint. Even Danny, the ever-irresponsible one, had finally reached manhood without his mother ever noticing. No matter the state of affairs between them, during the fights and arguments, during the pain and neglect, they could stick by each other and love each other; Children could understand the meaning of family better then their forbearers.

Families were supposed to stick together, to be there for each other but Maddie knew the truth they'd tried so hard not to realize all this time. The parents of the four wonderful teenagers had long since ceased to be part of their family, merely irritating nuisances they put up with and as much pain as it caused the aging mother something in it gladdened her.

They would be a family and maybe not make the same mistakes she did; they would stick together and she hoped it would be enough to undo what damage their real 'families' had done.

And all the love will show
'Coz everybody knows
It's Christmas time

A black Christmas, once no such thing could be possible, darkness unable to break through the millions of brightly colored twinkle lights reflected off ten thousand gleaming ornaments and shimmering silver garland all wrapped around a pine tree that once seemed so high, topped with the brightest star ever to fall from the sky. Now it seemed darker, far more unfriendly as each day grew closer to the joyous occasion, the entire year seeming to be a great waste of precious time; there was no Joyous Noel, no Santa Claus, no love and family, dressing up a house to pretend to believe in magic was just that. Pretending. What use was it?

For the first time since the beginning, Samantha Manson dreaded December 25 and all the days before it, full of pretentious idiots clambering over each other for the newest gadget, the latest gizmo that preformed worse then the model previous in the series and idiocy and commercialism surround what used to represent family. Once, the holidays represented laughter and joy, the chance visit from caring parents to deliver gifts and send love to their only child left so far away. Like a fairy tale, once upon a time always finished with the end, and with her loss of innocence 'The End' Came sooner then she wished, magic nothing more then a fairy tale told to small, moldable minds in hope of deterring them from the same destructive path those before them took. None succeeded and with every passing year the age of magic grew younger and younger, leading to the point where imagination and belief faded into a distant memory. Did the future lead them to a world where to believe in the impossible was to be primitive and pathetic? What did Christmas mean before commercial Santa's selling beer and Frosty the snowman on crack overcame the once creative feel of the season, the excitement that kept young eyes peering through windows in search of a tiny sleigh, listening for the welcome sound of sleigh bells and reindeer hooves. Christmas became a joke many years ago, like Valentines Day and Independence Day, something with a beautiful meaning behind it converted into sales and marketing venues.

Air swirled snow into the air, reflecting an almost mystical aura about the season that no mortal could ever capture, the bitter cold nipping painful at exposed skin and cleansing the lungs with each deep breath. Sam shuffled through the snow, bundled up carefully in every lick of winter garb that could be dug up from the many boxes yet to be unpacked and sitting at the door to her closet. Going through memories of years past was the last thing the young woman wanted to do. Danny and his family hesitantly went for a tree and, at her request, leaving behind the less then chipper girl who instead of glaring at the faded cardboard boxes cluttering the family room, decided to ease her mind and take a walk. Walk always seemed to clear her thoughts when the light growing deep within began to find itself stifled by a darkness that, despite all protests and resistance, dug its claws into her heart and pierced through the good, poisoning it with slow, acidic gloom that slowly ate away the living flesh and reducing it to cold marble slabs. Nothing seemed to touch her anymore, and in his concern for her Danny seemed to be trying to back off the relationship and the one thing keeping her going. How did you explain to an overcautious boy that you wanted more?

Being with the Fentons' was wonderful, Sam couldn't deny that; it was like being a part of their family when they included her in their love and fun, things she had, as a child, missed out on with such rich, money hungry parents. Yet, it felt like intrusion every time a place was made, or plan withheld in respect for her, the guest; such treatment only serve to remind her that she was an outcast and would never really belong in that family no matter what she tricked herself into believing. It was the only feelings Sam and Tucker had ever shared.

Both coming from similarly neglective parents, the two friends new well how intrusive they were into other families, having no real family situation to call upon yet understanding the importance of having one. When you lacked something, getting a taste of it even secondhand proved its importance. Every year Tucker sat at the fireplace, conveniently placing himself from the joy and love, looking like an abandoned puppy who wanted nothing more then to belong in a place that could never have him stay, yet never whining or expressing any physical semblance to longing; sometimes the girl wondered what broke him to bring the young man to lack such hope. Now and then the feeling grew on the young Goth who joined him, wishing with a deep longing that she had a family like Danny's, wanting nothing more then the love of a mother and father, wanting for just one day to feel what it felt like to be worth more then a business, or a house. The Fenton's always had love to give to wandering strays like Sam and Tucker but no matter how much they gave, it would never be the same.

Sam's parents hadn't even come to make sure she was alright, didn't even call, all she received was a 'Get Well Soon Card' with a printed message and copywrited signature. Two week before Christmas and neither bothered to even make sure their daughter was still alive, no word, no gift, no contact. It was a dark reminder of the backing behind the decision that nearly killed her, the knowledge that those who should never stop loving her despite all screw ups, despite their business and her flaws, didn't love her. No matter how different she became, no matter to what degree she acted out, Sam would never be noticed in their lives and it hurt, it felt like a hand twisting deep in her gut. No child should ever be neglected by their parents, especially not at Christmas.

Could she help the tears coursing down her cheeks? The fresh blood drying on her arm? Would anybody be able to blame and lonely young woman who, for all the growing up she done, was nothing more then a scared little girl searching for love in a cold world. Sometimes, in the darkness of a room when shadows danced on the walls across from the window, they played out the stories tormenting the horror stricken audience, telling tales of betrayal, abandonment, despair. When the lights went out each shadow took its final bow, but walking in the wake of a thousand cheerful twinkle lights made her sick. She could never get rid of the darkness attached to her, brought out by the light, a shadow no person could escape as it stalked, silently awaiting the kill.

Sharp, frozen gale slapped her cheeks until they were red, turning the once warm tears to crystal ice as the young woman tore through the snow, not caring that her skin paled and lips began to frost over with a blue tinge, not caring she was lost in the dark without a soul in the world knowing where to find her. The young woman wanted escape from it all, from the happiness surrounding her that could never quite pierce the stone heart weighing down more and more on her chest, from the love that she feared, and from the families and warm faces, she wanted to be hers. Snow began to fall, forming tiny dancers in the sky as they pirouetted to earth like tears of a frozen soul, beautiful, graceful, and mournful, they powdered her hair already wet with an hours worth of the skies tears, turning it grayish and haunting. Her feet fell against frozen stone, her legs straining to pushed faster, work harder, her heart beat heavier and faster as painful memories, horrible realizations, nipped dangerously at her heels. Sam couldn't stop, she was afraid to stop.

Energy suddenly faded like the flame of a candle and the young woman found a tree to collapse under, body huddled together for warmth as the suddenly calming night froze over with her feeling as though she had been encased in a coffin of solid ice. Warm and wet, tears drained her of all remaining energy, her sobs shaking her body of every hope and strength she had mustered; it was cold everywhere, it sunk into her skin and ran through her blood turning everything to solid ice. Then the realization hit, hard, quieting her sobs and containing her tears sharply, backing over rush of depression behind a rickety dam; Sam was totally alone here. No one was missing her, no one would and hiding the pain would be easy if only she could return fast enough; it was stupid to hurt when there was so much waiting to be enjoyed, no matter how little she felt like getting up. Even though the pain slowly ate away at her like battery acid, the young woman stood shakily on her feet, another tear sliding down her face as, and began the long trek in the general direction of the Fenton Household.

Danny would never have to know about the darkness, and then maybe she would never have to lose Danny like she lost everyone else.

And all the kids will see
The gifts under the tree
It's the best time of year for the family

"It's Christmas, La de fucking da." Glaring at the smiling faces serenading the festively decorated families, some coming to join the jolly choir while other smiled in enjoyment at the display, arms wrapped protectively around lovers and children, a young man hid behind the torn brown curtains to observe the wretched dregs of human society gather in celebration of the worthless creation of a savior who forgot to die for those who actually needed him. Some of the smiling faces dared glance at the dreary, dilapidated house where no lights ever glowed and no tree ever glistened with papered presents beneath its bows. They feared difference in such a festive majority, joyous families wallowing in their Yule time perfection staring up at the haunted face of a misery and hidden agony they could never hope to understand.

Finally sickened to a physical point, Tucker pulled away and heaved what little dinner he had ingested into the already full bucket on the squeaky wooden floor; Bile stung the back of his throat as it tore up his esophagus, his body shuddering with violent aftershocks as it finally wore off. So far vomiting seemed to be the only side effect and if that could be controlled nothing could stop the inevitable. Besides, even if it never stopped the momentary discomfort was well worth the result, already his body began to grow and muscles began to strengthen to beyond what they were previously able to reach. In less then a month the young African American rivaled the physical capabilities of lead Jocks, including the pretentious Dash Baxter.

Hatred flared in him, a violent need to dig his fingernails into the boys tender throat until his skin blued and bash his skull into the pavement just to see if any brain oozed out. The bastard deserved it after every spirit he had broken and every person he had used, he deserved to have his testicles ripped off and fed to him as added shame, and the young man found the drive within him to do it. Violent fury coursed through his veins like molten fire, turning everything to burning stone searching for a way to escape, looking for blood to spill and pain to inflict on the deserving; Tucker Foley was fucking sick of being the butt of every joke, the punching bag to a bunch of over machoistic baboons. Even his friends took advantage of their friends good nature, stripping him of all credibility and trust at the first slip up before coming on hands on knees for a favor that in the end put him at odds. No matter the situation, no matter the people, it was always him that drew the short straw, carried the blame of a bad situation, and became the vent for everyone's' anger and frustration and Tucker was fucking sick of it.

Being a sidekick, being a nobody was the worst way to go through life, it was what got you forgotten in the end when your best friend stood in the limelight and you received the boot to the dumpster. If you hurt versus the pain of a heroine or hero, their fates worried the world more then that of the one working the magic behind scenes; while they suffered the blows, no one offered a hand up, to busy showering the golden ones with favors and acknowledgment. Society ignored the underdog, trying instead to crush them one by one into the pavement, wanting only perfect children and flawless adults to step forward and shine. Perfection, Grace, Beauty, the world expected it and to get by in it, to be a hero, sometimes you did whatever it takes to do it. Desperation had it's claws in the young man who found it a faithful companion these days.

Desperation brought him this far, growing physically to the point he finally fought back and one, leaving the leader of every nightmare in a bloody heap in his bed, not dead though Tucker wished he had the stomach for it. No one deserved in then the bastard who dared call himself a father, sooner or later he would be joined by his whore who would receive a violent goodbye present, hopefully making the boy's statement perfectly clear. No one dared try to move in and make a stay at his house except the two excuses for lards that unfortunately conceived him, though how was something Tucker often wondered as they could barley touch each other in violence let alone love or even lust. The boy's birth was a mystery and a mistake he was certainly going to make them regret. Soon it would be time to make the dickheads at school pay by beating them at their own game; why fight back brutality with more when you can burn them? Already every girl on campus buzzed around like flies to a piece of beef, wanting him and making that painful obvious with every turn of phrase and sway of their luscious hips. No girl could refuse him and that was exactly the reaction Tucker hoped for.

Jocks were nothing without legions of loyal fans and swooning girls trailing like lost puppies, trying to just touch the hem of a fraying sleeve in some sick desire to magically become their ill thought out idols. Take away that dedication and you broke the chain, destroyed the hierarchy and that would taste so sweet, seeing the jocks as outcasts for once would be a beautiful thing. Granted it would mean using a few of the loyal fan's, breaking in a few girls, but nothing could take away the satisfaction of destroying that which he hated most in the world, over cocky, pigheaded, sports playing bastards who thought with an entirely different head and didn't deserve the respect of a drug dealer let alone the principal and entire student body.

Checking the time on the ten years old alarm clock gathering dust on a broken dresser, Tucker sighed and got up off the bed to search for something semi festive to put on before someone came to fetch him. With two weeks remaining until the dreaded day, it meant ultra speedy decorating at the Fenton house and that meant recruiting as many possible to hang stocking, wrap lights, and string popcorn in the night or so they had to do it. Christmas was, for some unknown reason, a huge event for Danny and his family and despite his own reservations toward the festivities, there was really nothing he would not do for the boy and more importantly for his sister.

Jazz. The name left an irritating gnawing of guilt in his bowels, the knowledge that leaving her to suffer alone caused another violent attack on her body; what he was doing would kill her, and despite his dangerous intentions, hurting her was the last thing he wished to do. No matter what it took, the young redhead would never find out what was really going on even if it took threats and fists to do it, he cared about her to much to cause her any pain. Even if Jazz would never care about him the way he did her.

It began with a need to impress her, wanting her to see him as the man her was and not the boy that disappeared at the beginning of high school; a change in clothes, a change in attitude, and a change in look seemed to have been in vain. Jazz didn't notice any of it, to wrapped up in school and school activities to even search the boy out; at first it hurt to know there would never be anything more then friendship but it escalated to a purpose. If there was no chance of having the jewel then anyone who tried to break it would be broken and many people had previously broken the beautiful ruby, and they would go down one by one. Starting with the king of them all, Dash.

Donning a red sweater and faded blue jeans, Tucker carefully shut his door and the curtains to his window, making sure no soul stirred and that nothing happening within the room would be discovered. Secrecy was of utmost importance. After a moment of intense listening, the boy pulled open the top drawer of the cracking dresser, heart beginning to pound at the prospect of another moment of forbidden fruit, another taste of power and strength. Taking off the pile of underwear and putting it on the inclining wood surface, the young man withdrew a black bag, plain and inconspicuous, hidden in the very back paneling of his drawer. Taking a deep breath and wiping beads of perspiration from his forehead, a trembling hand silently unzipped the bag, reached in, and pulled out a large hypodermic needle and a tiny vial of transparent, yellow tinted liquid. It was itself light but felt like pure lead in his hands, the needle cold and unfeeling as it always seemed to him; it wouldn't hurt him, it couldn't. It wasn't like cocaine or marijuana, or even like heroine, he could stop any time he liked without negative side effects of drugs yet receive the good results in record time. Preparing the needle with rubbing alcohol and the yellow liquid, the flint like brown eyes focused dangerously on the point of the needle, a small bead of liquid pushing just out of the miniscule hole.

"This is for Jazz" he murmured, trying to convince his screaming conscious that nothing could be feared from this, no person would be harmed because no one would know enough to interfere. "This is for Danny, and for Sam, and for me…." Gritting his teeth, the youth jabbed the needle into a meaty, fleshy arm and slowly pushed the top down, injecting the cold fluid into living tissue and trying to put the gnaw of dread and remorse out of mind. In the end things would work out and the pain would be well worth the result, it always turned out that way for the hero's and soon that would be what he was, a hero.

"Tucker? You home? I tried ringing the doorbell but I don't think it's working. Tucker?" Cursing at the young woman's horrible timing, he ripped the needle from his tender flesh with a muffled shout of pain, stuffing the evidence quickly in the bag and kicking it under a nearby end table out of sight, timing just right as a curious face peaked in, aquamarine eyes rather dull but brightening slightly at the sight of him. Giving a charming smile while covertly tugging down the sweaters sleeve to conceal the last remaining evidence, the young African American stood and Bowed, earning an amused eye rolling from the beautiful girl.

"Ah! I see the carriage has arrived, might I escort the lovely lady to her chariot?" It brought a rush of pride to see the girls cheeks redden because, even if the sarcastic snort said otherwise, Jazz found some pleasure in the comment and that was enough to ease the pain of his arm. Holding out the undamaged appendage, he hooked arms with the young woman and did as he said he would, escorted her to the car and away from the crumbling wreckage that was his home life, not noticing the concerned looks a pair of gentle eyes cast at the carnage of broken vases and slight reminiscence of blood all over. Later it would do to question the state of house but for now, she stayed quiet, wanting to keep things happy between them even if it was all an act.

"Question, why is you brother in the driver seat?" Tucker asked, a bubble of apprehension indicating the foreboding feeling of approaching disaster. The slightly green pallor on the girls complexion didn't help matters at all, causing the dread to grow; Danny could kick ghost ass, play Romeo to a very twisted Juliet, and manage to do it all while keeping up a 3.2 GPA but one thing the boy could not do was drive a car. Tucker was in Driver Education with him and he knew the consequences of putting the ghost boy behind a wheel could be lethal.

"Did I mention that Mom is letting Danny drive?" Letting out a nervous laugh, Tucker attempted to back up only to be dragged and thrown face first into the old Buick, landing in a heap right behind the driver. "You wanted a ride, your getting a ride whether you like it or not"

"Is it to late to walk?

It's a wonderful feeling
Feel the love in the room from the floor to the ceiling
It's that time of year
Christmas time is here
And with the blessings from above
God sends you his love
And everything's ok
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays

When the sun rose, it made one forget for a short time the terrors from a darkness surrounding every aspect of life, a shadow as natural as air and water that became part of every living thing at one point, growing as they did, sometimes as a friendly reminder but more often as a deadly fear, a terrifying knowledge. Shadows reminded a person of times that could never be taken back, shed tainted light on painful scars, still tender and raw though years healed the original sting. Impossibility, no other word described ones ability to fully forget a life of darkness no matter how tempting the light, how beautiful the colors, how warm the sun; better the devil you know, the phrase went, and to a person recovering from a wound striking far deeper then flesh changing took a terrible risk. Being what they already were caused the pain, but such pain could be handled when it had been consistent and lasting, change and it require understanding a whole knew type of agony, it meant facing a new level of hell and a new part of themselves. You could not ever change a person, you could encourage it, help them along, but in the end, the choice to alter a lifestyle is theirs, no one else's.

Watching the girl curled up on the hard floor, cradling what appeared to be a broken vase in partially shredded arms, all the young man watching saw was the broken porcelain. Something about the symbolism fit in to the glass tears and porcelain heart, both beautiful and cracking no matter the patching each friend tried. It did not seem to matter how much love they use to glue together the shattering pieces, the darkness put to much pressure on the fragile dreams and hopes. Standing in the doorway of the young girls room, the knowledge all to fresh in his mind that it seemed wrong to play the part of a hero when he was merely the sidekick, Tucker carefully stepped in noticing the tensing of the girls back muscles at the squeak of a loose floor board, the thud of his shoes against pliable wood, the age of the house complaining beneath the weight.

Houses and homes, there was always such a difference between them and yet the dictionary gave little variation in their definitions. Perhaps it lay in the sounds within, or the simple appearance of the words to a mortal eye, but it seemed that the choice of what to call your world lied within a person and the soul they gave the assembly of bricks and wood, of plaster and paint. All places were houses, the love and care put into it made it a home; it, in a way, grew similarly with building a person. Anyone could exist, as any house could stand. Structure, glue, nails, bones, screws, muscles, paint, skin, plaster, limbs, built a house and a person, the same for nearly everything, little difference coming from a structure repeated throughout history and civilization. Yet to make a truly a living soul, to make a home you needed to build with more then lumber and bones, you built something truly deep, gave something soul by painting walls with more then paint, sometimes you dented them or drew a line with little numbers to mark height, or you left a little stain in the carpet from where you took your first steps, splattering finger-paint as you went. Giving things soul meant building memories into the very walls, love into the floorboards, and dreams into every thing touched. For the two people standing in the small, plain, beige room it was a home and a house at the same time, a place with memories and no rights for them to claim, a home in every aspect yet still only a house they could not say was theirs. So much happened to the two teens inside these very walls, the loves of their lives lived within them, they spent more time here then in their houses.

The vase held no emotional importance, Tucker was sure, to the girl cradling it like a dying child as he recognized it as the one usually sitting on the Fenton's fireplace when lilies and daffodils began blooming in the front gardens. Nothing about it seemed special save for two who held on tight to another families traditions, having none of their own. This house, this home, and everything within it was taken for granted by its owners who never needed to live without, they would not shed tears over a busted vase, even if it was a fragile thing made in fifth grade art. Neither of their parents would ever keep something so trivial, especially as a Christmas present as it had been eight years prior from Danny to his parents; something like it would be laughed at or hidden at the farthest corner of a drawer to collect the dust.

Wrapping a tender arm around the trembling young woman, Tucker pulled his friend to lean heavily on his body not minding the weight in the slightest. The two never really got along, both opposites in every aspect of the term yet still friends in the face of adversity and triumphing over all obstacles whether they wanted to or not. It was one similarity that subconsciously drew them to each other, feeding off a shared loneliness and abandonment neither knew how to share or feel and trying to understand it through another. Sighing, a shudder passed through the dark girl and the tinkle of breaking porcelain echoed in the quiet room as each piece fell broken to the floor, tears falling to their deaths in mourning of its sad end and a mournful desire to have it renewed. Seeing some blood on the tips, globby and gooey, he pushed each piece away with a single swipe of his foot, a heavy boot pushing them from sight where all of this pain really belonged. Sometimes, knowing the reasons behind her darkness made being the best friend all that more difficult, it meant facing a side of himself kept under careful watch, locked and barred from his heart, his thoughts. Yet, as always, no one else could do this job but him because no one else, not even Danny, would really understand; the closest second would be Jazz and even she could not fully understand the feelings.

"I hate Christmas," came the soft whisper, but it could have been a screech in his ear and not given the young African American more of a startle. Of everything to come from the girl's mouth, that was the most surprising especially when no one in the world seemed to enjoy the holidays as much as she. Every year it was Sam who was most anxious to hang the baubles and lights, string the popcorn, and the most reluctant to remove it all after New Years Day passed. It felt like worms crawling just under the surface of his flesh, wriggling and writhing, the feeling of dread that this conversation would go in a direction he would not be able to go. Each had their own Demons, skeletons hiding menacingly in shadowed closets. Between them, there stood a silent pact never to ask, to leave the past where it was and let the other deal as they saw fit yet the girl came close to crossing a line he set for himself. Having nothing non-incriminating to say, Tucker stayed silent and awaited the flood.

"What's the point of it Tucker? It's all pretend, pretending to have something we don't have, a chance for families to make up wasted time even if the rest of the year they don't give a damn if you live or die. The only families with a really Christmas exist in a TV world, but we're not a damn show. It's not fair" Tears began to spill and tenderly a hand reached up to wipe them away, arms slowly rocking the shuddering body to keep calm the pain obviously tearing holes through very thin flesh. It hit hard, knowing she was right. "We've never had that, Danny's family has always been nice and let us stay but I don't want to be a stray I want my own family, I want to be wanted by my own parents. I'm tired of this year after year; what if they get sick of us too? I'm free loading food and board because I'm to fucking proud to get real help so I cling like a leech to this familiarity but how real is it? Its not as though we're Fentons…we don't belong, how can you deal with that year after year Tucker? I can't handle it anymore I can't, I hate this fucking holiday, I hate my fucked up family, and I hate…I hate…" The words apparently could not come out but judging by the pained look and guilt twinge staining the otherwise clear lavender eyes, it wasn't really a secret what she hated most. Sighing softly, Tucker gently stroked her hair and closed his eyes, drawing on her natural strength to make up for what he lacked.

"We pretend to get by day to Day Sammy, we pretend so that Danny and Jazz can be happy even if we are not. What choice do we have but to deal? Your right we don't belong but…but they want us to, our friends, your boyfriend, wants us to even if…even if that will never be possible for me I try, I jump into things I don't want to do and act as though I feel right at home. Someday perhaps this will be a home to you, if you ever marry him- and you can't tell my the thought never crossed your mind- you won't have to worry about belonging, you still don't really." Pausing, he ran a hand over the bloody arms, some scratches accidental and other all to purposeful, the straight red lines bright as neon signs, aching with so much more the physical agony. A twinge in his arm served as a remind of a pain all his own, one they could never know, a purpose that kept his soul from dying like hers had.

"What's this really about Sammy? He loves you and you know it-don't you?" watching her eyes fall to the ground the realization struck sharply; was it really so hard to see the looks he gave her every time she passed? How he seemed to glow whenever she entered the room, or the never ending smile stretched from ear to ear. "Sam…Samantha Manson look at me," the boy continued sharply, watching a pair of sad, heavy eyes gaze a place in the vicinity of his left ear. Eyes softening, the young man could almost feel the insecurity radiating off her body, the fearful shudders running from neck to feet in the girl.

"He says he loves me" she whispered, eyes watering and overflowing with fresh tears, almost looking grayish as they fell, tainted with the slightest hint of malcontent and fear. "Danny would do anything for me, walk through hell if it took that and I….I don't deserve it, I never deserved it; someone like him deserves beauty, brains, perfection and most of all someone that can make him truly happy. What happiness will he ever get from a pathetic, worthless whore like me…I mean look at me, I attempted to kill myself for fucking attention, just for a damned look from him. What person except a whore throws themselves at someone like that? I'd have given him anything, anything to just kiss me, to look at me even damnit even my own virginity. How long will this last? How long until Danny realizes that he's worth so much more then me and kicks me out of his life? How long until my clinging drives him insane? He deserves so much better then a desperate whore with no more worth then what's between her legs-"

"Stop it Sam! Now you listen to me and you listen good," Tucker said in a dangerously low voice, eyes narrowed to angry slits and fingernails digging painfully into her tender flesh as the shuddering body was shaken to silence her. No one, especially not one of his friends, would talk like that about themselves. It was like listening to Jazz, hearing the echoing pain of insecurity and desperate need to be shown love, feeling the guilt that came with that desperation. Neglect, it seemed, and a way with doing such things to people. It took all self control to bar the blood boiling fury lighting flames in his eyes; the temperature shot up twenty degrees, an irritating itch crawling all through out his skin as the irritation in him rose.

"Danny loves you, any fool with eyes can see that. Do you know he never once left your side at the hospital, not until his ghost sense went haywire and I made him leave to keep you safe. It damn near killed him when your heart stopped, watching it was heart shattering, the boy cradled you like a breaking doll looking as though he was trying not to break himself. He hated what you did because seeing you in pain hurts him, knowing that it was from lack of attention was salt in the wound because Danny never doubted it should have been him giving you that attention. He loves you, loves you with everything he is" Tucker grabbed her face with his hands, holding it facing him so she could not tune out the words aimed to cut straight through the wound, painfully flushing out the infection beginning to fester. Ignoring this, pushing it away broke everyone's hearts and with everything suspended on such a thin thread, the young man was far from willing to risk it all again. Sam still was his sister and one of the people nearest and dearest to his heart, the person closer then even Danny in mind and heart; she knew more about him then anyone except Jazz and still remained the only person with any real knowledge of his home life, a secret the dark girl swore to carry to grave or for however long she was asked to carry it. Not a trusting person, it took a lot for Tucker to trust a person enough to let them know how much pain he really was in and although she knew little details, the girl did know about the abuse and a little into the emotional tangle that was Tucker Foley. It was the skeletons they shared that kept them close all through the years.

"When you walk into the room it's like someone turned on a light in him he glows, when you brush his hand he lights up like a candle and he hasn't stopped smiling since your little make out session at the hospital. IF he ever heard you call yourself a whore…I ought to slap you for even suggesting that! How could you think yourself that low? No doubt you would do anything for him, and I don't doubt one day I'll probably be getting all the gory details of your…deflowering to put it bluntly no matter how much I won't want it and even now I know there will be nothing desperate or whoreish about it. You two have always loved each other, its deeper and stronger then anything any of us will, or ever could understand. Even if you both did something…unsavory in this very room, this very night, no one would ever think you are a whore. You love him don't you?" Seeing the small, shy nod, the boy smile and stroked her hair, smiling gently at the girls uncomfortable feelings about discussing her sex life. No wonder Jazz had so much fun doing this to them.

"Then you deserve him and what more you have no right to decide what he does or does not deserve, it is Danny's choice and I know for a fact he would choose you over any other girl in the world." Cupping her hands in his, warming them and sending a sign of strength and support unable to be conveyed through spoken word, Tucker touched on a tender subject for both of them. "I know what your parents think Sam, what they would say in knowing what you and Danny have, they would call you a whore or a slut, but they don't know you and Danny like I do. They can't and I doubt they ever would; do not try to hide behind your mask I know your past remember? And you know mine. You are good at pretending it does not bother you but it does doesn't it? The worthlessness…the disgust, the disappointment…you felt it from us and it finally snapped you, don't think I did not figure that out." Squeezing her hands, he spoke fiercely and gently, showing her that it was him and not her parents talking, that something who cared, who knew her better then anyone in the world spoke, not people who pretended to care and made judgment based on things they never would understand.

"they don't know you Sam, and they don't know Danny. No matter what anyone else thinks or says, its only you two who matter in the equation and everything else is just water off your back; you love him and he loves you, what you did to get him was desperate yes, I'll admit it, but you we're hurting. IT doesn't make you worthless or a whore and it doesn't make you deserve him any less then you ever did; let him love you, let him help you I know he can. This pain might never go away, you might need him your whole life and I can guarantee that he will be their to make it stop hurting every single time if only you'll let him in." Pressing a gentle, brotherly kiss to her forehead, Tucker pulled the girls' once again shuddering body to him, tears running into the silky black strands just beneath his nose. Misery loved company and they shared so much of it, pasts so similar and painful that trying to navigate the other hurts meant facing their own demons, it broke his steady resolve, crumbling the walls that usually stayed so strong in the face of a hard past and terrible memories.

"Let it come Sam, don't fight it and I promise it will get better in the end. Love works in mysterious ways if you only give him the right to prove it to you." They stayed in the same position for some time, drawing on the misery of the other to change it into comfort. It always came down to the hero, at least in stories, to save the distressed damsel but in their story, as always, it came to the best friend, the sidekick, who desired nothing in that moment then to pass the burning coal of responsibility to someone far more suited. Since the incident rolls spun in thousands of directions, the best and worst in everyone pouring out when pressure bore down on spirits, cracking souls and breaking hearts. Pain hidden away in the beautiful world of denial they all lived in, came oozing out like the infection of a pimple left to fester for weeks, puss that spread and yellowed as it was denied air and the right to be healed. Suddenly Tucker was the strongest, the hero in a crumbling world where the hero's of the past were falling and the losers had to take their places; a month ago he had stood in the doorframe of this very same girls hospital room, dreading the coming conversation, without a word to say or idea to go on. So much changed since then, he changed.

Life now revolved around more then a lighted screen, an emotionless keyboard with worn plastic moving to his whim, yielding to his own desires without a complaint or care to how hard they were pushed or how often. The people once complete strangers to him suddenly showed an entirely new world, giving a completely new perspective to a sad, monotonous world he had been to scared to leave. Sam did manage to teach him one thing in her pain, life would never come to him, to get it he needed to step out from behind his fears and take it by storm; three months ago she pushed him on the right path, the path he traveled in trepidation of the out come. Tightening the tender hold, Tucker continued to speak softly, knowing now there was no reason to fear speaking to this girl, the one person he could always trust to be completely honest with him. Once, speaking to this girl terrified him, the thought of breaking her and everyone else in the process scary, the cold sweats he had broken into only memories in the past. Sam was his best friend, nothing she did ever changed that.

"Sam, I told you once that all the world could ask of you was to live. I never, though, thanked you for teaching me that I had to live" a confused look passed over the strong face, her eyes watching the boy with many questions written all over her face. Smiling almost amused, Tucker looked up at the ceiling with heavy, contemplative brown orbs. "What you did forced me to grow up, to be the person living inside me to scared to come out from behind the screens I grew up with. My parents beat me down and watching what that did to you, seeing that you needed someone to be strong, needed me to be stronger that I ever needed to be before, seeing that Jazz needed strength, and that Danny needed strength…you gave me the choice to be weak or to grow up and prove I'm every bit as responsible as any of you. I…I have to thank you for that."

"I'm not sure I understand Tucker, what do you mean?" She whispered to him, this time being the one to earn the confusion of the young man, cross legged on the hard wood floor with a bemused smile on his face. A cold sweat broke out like black heads all over his face, the temperature shooting up a good ten degrees in the suddenly stifling room; this was crossing another privacy line. True he did love her, the reason that all these changes occurred was in an attempt to help Sam firstly, and to impress and aid Jazz. Watching the angel fall, knowing there was no soul prepared to catch the beauty who could fall to her death with the loss of wings, was painful and it had been seeing her break, feeling the tender way in which she touched his cheek, eventually the way she fit against his body as he held her…the awakening of feeling inside of him lying dormant for many years caused him to fall and fall hard for the Fire, dangerous and tempting, yet more precious then any jewel.

"You're a girl Sam with a lot on your plate I know but…but If I asked you something would you, as my best friend and the one who knows me and my past best, answer completely honestly even if it will hurt?"

"I…suppose" came the hesitant answer as Tucker stood and twisted his hands together, pacing a bit and checking to make sure the intruder into his thoughts was not intruding upon the conversation. Their friendship, fragile and beautiful, was something the boy was in no way willing to risk; if she loved another other then him and he poured his full heart onto the floor before her, it would destroy his carefully guarded friendship irreplaceably.

"I…I think I'm falling for someone –no, no I am in love with someone. I in no way am good enough for her, she is older, smarter, far more diligent then I could hope to be but…but I love her, there I said it. I love everything about her from the way she laughed, the sound more beautiful then birds, to every tear she has ever cried. I want nothing more then to make her smile, to watch those beautiful eyes light up with a sparkle of joy, the fire she is so full of. When I see her I...I feel like I'm flying, it is difficult to not spill it out and kiss away those fears and agonizing tears, to kill the pain with love. No one else in the whole world made me feel like I belonged anywhere as much as she does, when I'm with her I feel like the person she can come to, like showing her honest love and open support is what I was meant to do. Catching a falling angel before she hits the ground, teaching her to fly…but like a mortal to a goddess, I am not worthy of her…but I am biased I suppose, as you well know so I'm asking you. Do you think I have a chance with a girl like her?"

"Tucker…who is it?…" Shifting as though wanting to melt into the floor from embarrassment, a mumbled response tickled the entrance to her ear but was beyond her understanding "I'm sorry I couldn't quite hear that."

"Jazz okay?" A thoughtful look passed the girls face as though trying to piece together a puzzle with missing links; as it seemed to come together in her mind, Sam's eyes widened in almost grim horror as lavender orbs scanned dup and down the now muscular body. Sam stood to her feet, feeling the boy's presence beginning to move away from her in the shadowy room.

"My god…the missing piece of the puzzle….Damn it Tucker, that's why your doing this, to impress her. Jazz cares about you already, she just doesn't know how much yet and…and becoming a jock isn't going to make her love you! What were you thinking?"

"That is not your business Sam," An anger-hardened voice echoed as the boy glared at her from near the door. "You can't possibly understand why-" The girl felt a rush of fury, the fire she was known to possess from time to time flaring up and in the violent anger she slammed her foot to the ground, the sound of flesh on wound resounding through the house

"You told me I was perfect the way I was, that I was good enough for Danny. Why aren't you good enough for Jazz?" Turning from the angry, terrified friend he once trusted with every aspect of his life, the young African American boy laid a rough hand on the doorframe, leaning heavily on the only support it felt he had. Secrets were heavy burdens and he carried the heaviest of them all.

"Why don't you think you are good enough for Danny?" Knowing the comment would hurt and unable to handle the broken tears sure to fall, Tucker fled, disappearing into the bathroom and pulling out a spare needle, doing the only thing that seemed to make any sense in the world anymore.

Bells are ringing
It's time to scream and shout
And everybody's playing coz schools out
Celebrating the special times we shared
Happiness coz love is in the air

Why was it, the simplest things in life always taken for granted usually ended up being more important then the seemingly life altering situations and unusual wants. Standing in the corner of the rather small family room, snow falling outside a window edged with lights, was a once strong, mighty pine cut short in it's life. Needles, once thirsting for the light of the sun already began to brown and break from their parent. IT was dying and she had been the one to give the final blow.

A small tear slid down her cheek as she began to gently attach twinkle lights, hanging the colorful string of bulbs from each row a branches in hopes of giving it some beauty before the last breath escaped the once living flesh, marrow of the soon to be husk. It never hurt so much to watch an object lacking nerves and feelings die, it was like picking a flower only to toss it out as the petals wilted without a care for the fragile life you just destroyed. Why were humans so callous to the natural beauty around them? Were they so jealous of it they would cut it back just to deny it, to prove they could create beauty?

Jazz looked like a Christmas tree herself, wrapped up in endless strings of lights while attempting to systematically attach them to the needles without getting its sticky blood on her. Occasionally a tear fell and the young woman had to cease her decorating to apologize to the one whose life had been so rudely cut short for temporary pleasure. Sweat mixed with hot tears as the temperature in the room rose with her anger level, the painful passion and poisonous hurt being expressed for the tree, pity and guilt being the only way she knew how to express such things. Everything seemed to be falling apart around her, collapsing as flames licked at her skin and the sweat stained the blue sweater pushing up on her chin. Growling, she kicked them from her body, not caring that a few bulbs broke and imbedded their tiny fingers into the soft fleshy skin of her palms.

Everything spun, the world circling like a vulture in the slowly collapsing space of her mind; she was unable to cope with everything being thrown so haphazardly at her heart with no regard for the scars and bruises left behind. Allowing for a moment of tears, of mourning, the redhead stared dully at the all to bright bits of colored fire spreading across the floor from the mournful tree. What did it matter if Christmas came? She sincerely doubted that anyone in the house cared if the calendar decided to skip that fateful day, already it seemed life struck hard with its realization. December 25 was nothing more then a day and love it though she did, this year Jazz found it hard to get into the same spirit usually surrounding the beautiful season. Once, Christmas meant baking cookies, laughing with family and friends, opening presents as a family on Christmas day but now…now her parents refused to even be there together, choosing to be away form their children for the holidays to avoid conflict with each other. Jazz's mother called to confirm the plan that evening, it was more then the young redhead could handle and she slammed the phone to the receiver getting to work immediately in avoidance of the pain and fresh wave of abandonment. Everyone became so caught up in their problems, their lives it was left to the oldest to make sure others could celebrate a happy Christmas.

Eventually, every light replace, the tree shown with a beautiful glow and a box of glass ornaments reflected blue, red, green and yellow hues, the polished surfaces awaiting a chance to shine for one time a year. An ornaments life was sadly short, given a chance to shine but once a year and otherwise stuffed in a cold box to collect dust in their caretakers' thoughts until the next year came around. Sometimes, it was almost sad to think about it. Giving a heavy weighted sigh, nimble fingers lifted a small glass ball from its paper stuffing and found the perfect place among the branches for it to shine; everything deserved its time in the sun, even a plain little ball. Lost in the world of magic and color so easily drawing to a shadowy mind, the redhead didn't see a dark skinned hand tuck more of the beautiful ornaments in the tree until a smooth, sultry voice broke the comfortable silence, the deep sound sending pleasurable shiver down her spine.

"Our second Christmas, or mine with you rather, your parents bought me this." A small golden tin reindeer hung daintily between his thumb and index finger, warm earthy eyes twinkling at her in the fire lit room, the tenderness with which he regarded the tiny ornament and the girl reaching out to touch it evaporating the pain to a point so low that Jazz didn't remember why she shed the tears still slowly making tracks down her cheeks. The reindeer found its place in the sea of dark green before a slightly calloused hand cupped her damp cheek, brushing away the moisture with a heartbreakingly tender stroke of the burning flesh. "That Christmas I got my first kiss, technically my only real kiss; mistletoe, the only real part about this holiday I like and I see it was the first thing you put up." Murmured the rich voice, sending another tingle from her spine, pooling in her stomach as the hand that touched her seemed to scald all rational thought, thickening words until none could come. A low chuckle of amusement echoed around the serene room as the hand slipped from the flushed skin and the shuffle of paper drew a pair of aqua eyes back to reality with a gentle bump. Strange how he always managed to do that to her and he didn't even know it! Maybe it was her lack of love, or the fact that he offered her friendship that could go so much deeper then the surface, but she found Sam's words echoing back into her mind

'You love him Jazz, plain and simple…'

"Now, I see dried tears" his voice swept over her, and she turned to meet them again, managing a small smile before taking a handful of smaller, hand made ornaments, and working her fingers around them, hanging them up to save herself the confusion brewing in an already cracking heart. "Care to tell me why?"

"I've never seen you as happy as when you are with him"

Tucker never pushed a subject no matter how much it piqued his natural born curiosity, it endeared the young man to Jazz because, instead of treating her like a charity case, a fair weather friend, the young redhead found herself treated like a person deserving of time and care. If she was anything else then that, he would walk off when she hesitated to speak, grow impatient when the words could not come, snap when the tears fell…but he did none of these. No matter the situation, nor how many times she cried over the same pains and sorrows, Tucker never told her to get over it or suck it up, he listened and held her, showing her without words that it was alright, the she would never truly be alone. A small piece of wood and felt hung from her hands, cradled like a priceless stone against soft skin as warm, content aqua eyes regarded it fondly, happy memories surrounding this particular ornament.

"You made this for me your freshman year after my boyfriend dumped me, it was supposed to be a charm, or so you said, and it has to have been the sweetest thing any man…or woman for that matter has ever done for me." Tenderly, Jazz placed it in a proud spot on the tree and felt down in the box, feeling only the topper and garland left in the cardboard. Taking the clump of silver garland from the box, a small smirk stretched across her face as she turned and gave the boy a smile with as much sugar as she could pour into it

"Oh Tucker…." Batting her eyelids, she barley contained a giggle when he responded with a condescending glare before exhaling a defeated huff.

"Fine Fine, Give it here" Smiling brightly, she dropped the garland into his arms and made him a temporary Christmas tree, pulling the garland like thread from a spool and winding it carefully around the tree, watching the silver morph into beautiful hues as it contacted the multicolored fire. Soon every strand hung carefully from the beautiful boughs, a sad sapling looking now fit for a royal hall; it would die in beauty and grace, enjoyed by everyone in its last moments. A pair of arms carefully intertwined themselves around her body like vines, hugging her and causing a rush of warmth. "So are you going to explain the tears or do I have to resort to drastic measures?" Shrugging her shoulders, Jazz nervously played with a tiny gold bauble, attempting to get a nonexistent spec off the glassy smooth surface. Hearing the soft sigh pass from over her shoulder, aqua met testy brown "Drastic measures it is."

Before thoughts of questioning his 'drastic measures' could pass through her mind, two hand spun her around roughly and began tickling all the sensitive spots only he would ever know. Shrieks went up as she pawed at his hands, merely a thing of melted goop under his ministrations, the tickling leaving her breathless, helpless and completely at the mercy of the young African American slowly lowering her to the ground. It felt like thousands of tiny feathers all over her skin and though Jazz managed to hold out a good long while, the sensation finally cracked her and, with red, tearstained face she managed to gasp out

"I give I give!" She was pinned beneath his body, his hand stilling over the exposed flesh of her stomach before resuming a gentle, stroking sensation causing more turmoil in her over reactive body then even his voice could pull out of her. They lay amongst paper and box before the dancing flames while the heat radiated from their eyes, smoldering like silent fires, a crackling glow resonating from his body sent more pleasant shivers through the redheads skin, the urge to draw away from that intense gaze overwhelmed by the overpowering desire to drown in the beauty and solidity of them. The way those eyes roamed over her body, blazing as they met exposed flesh and their hand ran through the molten river pouring out from her body, looking as though the burning each fiery strand caused only added to the power drawing Jazz like a magnet. Words died at the base of her throat as aquamarine eyes studied the smooth skin, the beginnings of peach fuzz just beneath the perfectly curving nose, the way those lips parted just so...inches from her face…centimeters…

Jazz felt those lips move towards her ear, the hot, moist breath making her think of far worse things, mental images she could not banish from her mind. True, they both were teens and from a psychological standpoint completely hormone driven, but feeling those muscles contract against the bare flesh of her stomach, his hot breath and sultry voice doing things to her she did not even want to think about, seemed more the just teenage lust. Everything radiated from those eyes and the tender way those finger brushed across her skin, treating everything about her like a precious gem…and above all, feeling every wall crash down inside her, crumbling because the one man with all her trust stepped within just a foot of her person, bore his soul to her without asking to see a sliver of hers. What was this feeling?

"Look up" that voice again! Unable to deny an request made by those deep, sultry tones aquamarine eyes locked on a sprig of mistletoe poised at the edge of the mantle, tempting the confused teen to pull away and return to safe, plutonic emotions with none of the passion setting every patch of skin on fire, the caresses electrifying every nerve ending. Their lips came close, drawn like magnets to each other.

'Let me feel nothing, please let it be lust…just lust'

"Jazz? Tucker? You guys down there?" Like a bucket of ice water, the words poured down and killed the flames of passion sweltering the room to deadened embers. Pushing away from each other like the other was contagious, the two teens hastily made presentable just as Danny poked his head into the room, looking in confusion at the slightly fluster red in the girls cheeks and distracted twitch in Tuckers left hand. "Ooookay…well I see I interrupted something…"

"No!" Jazz said quickly, afraid now of facing whatever took hold of her rational moment before, "We were just about to put the star on the top and…I tripped, he was just making sure I was okay is all." Seeing the skeptical but accepting look in the eyes of her brother, a relieved sigh escaped her slightly parted lips. Two escapes in one lie, not having to face the unwinding cord on emotions long suppressed for necessity and propriety; love, lust, both pointless and terrifiying without every trying to be. Such power, raw passion evoked with a simple caress, even the sound of a quavering note from the others voice- Jazz could not admit the emotions brewing below the surface, could not accept the person her heart screamed to let in, to love the boy, no the man who set free everything she denied herself. But change was hard, and even harder was feeling what never before existed, admitting that it could was a step one of the two was not ready to take, no matter how simple it would be.

Then again, the simplest things in life were always taken for granted.

And all the love will show
'Coz everybody knows
It's Christmas time

And all the kids will see
The gifts under the tree
It's the best time of year for the family

Seven days, seven days left for shopping, decorating, cooking, cleaning, preparing, and waiting for the long awaited day. Christmas approached, carrying with it all the beautiful sounds and sights surrounding the season; tiny colored lights morphed crystalline snow into living forms, taking on the images of fire, or hearts, trees, and stars. Smoke pillared from snow capped chimneys and within the bowels of man made gingerbread like houses sat frosted trees, rooms decorated with love and grace no other time seemed to be able to produce. Frost joined the festivity, freezing pattern like on the outermost windows like glass rainbows in the wake of a frozen morn. In the deep evening, children's laughter rang as popcorn strung itself along worn branches, and tiny fingers hung gold and silver ornaments as high as their small feet would allow them stretch.

Shuffling through the powdery accumulation, a young man passed oblivious to the wonder surrounding him, blue eyes focused on something so far away none would ever see it, passing gaily wreathed lamp posts and wandering beneath canopy's of lighted garland, stepping through archways into a place forgotten in the joyous celebrations, beautiful in an only natural way. Blue eyes came into focus and searched the premise, following the sunken in snow prints leading into the distance. She came nearly every night and he let her, knowing in some cosmic way that nothing that would make her from warmth could be healed by a kiss or hug. In the night, it seemed, the monster returned taking more blood with it as it passed with great scraping claws. During dinner, Danny had seen the scars she tried secretly to conceal, the shock of vibrant red blood knocking the air forcefully from his lungs and shaking the knife from his grip, letting it fall with an echoing clatter to the wood floor. It was then he knew she could not handle it alone anymore.

Losing her once was painful, and when an appropriate time to excuse himself from the table presented itself, he dashed to the nearest bathroom and heaved what little his stomach had taken in, letting the bile burn his throat and join his tears. Danny was angry, no furious at himself for once again ignoring it, trying to tell himself she would be okay if he just gave her time. Now the shadows had her and when he should have been their helping her to learn how to beat them back, he was busy finishing Christmas shopping in complete ignorance and abandonment. That night had landed him bruised knuckles from pounding the hard tile of the floor until he tasted the sweet, acrid tang of his own blood, the mere smell of it leaving the sour taste in his mouth. No one could stop him from expressing each knife twisting through his already cracking heart. Now, walking through the pure snow, Danny wanted nothing more then to hit it, break it, listen to the screams as it slowly, agonizingly melted, turning into goopy, unrecognizable masses that he could punch in. It wasn't fair that snow could not bleed, could not hurt, yet something far more beautiful probably stained the snow with red in her hurt.

'Damn it all to hell!' thought the halfa savagely, irately kicking a tree, feeling satisfaction when sap leaked out and a piece of bark tore itself from it, the skin of the old maple shredding beneath several well place kicks. Tears flooded his vision as he attacked again and again, furious at the tree for being in his way, for daring to stand strong when the one he loved couldn't. It could be strong when Danny himself couldn't and it deserved to die, deserve to wither and live in agony for a few days before finally giving up. Foot aching and fist cut up, all the fury and self hate drained out into the snow, leaving a hollow rather empty feeling in the place his heart should beat; but it was broken, lying in a blacked, cracked heap somewhere beneath the frozen snow. He didn't deserve to love her, not when every time she needed him he disappeared, tried to ignore the obvious in fear of the truth. Sam never got better and it had been the fear of losing her that kept him away; Danny's greatest fear was holding her dying body, watching the life slowly drain out of her face all the while knowing he did it to her, he had caused it. Dreams haunted his nights, dreams of holding a pistol to her head, listening to pleas for life with no more then a deadly smirk, waking just as the bang of release sent the bullet flying…

'I love her, why the hell then can't I prove it? I've said it, but It's hard to even do that! I try to show her and then just screw up when she actually needs me to show it…Damn it! Where is she? Please…please don't let her be gone…' Searching the darkness with deep emerald eyes, changed because of the better range ghost sight had, the young halfa saw the unmistakable figure of his girlfriend, hunched over on a park bench twenty feet off the path. Wind tousled his already dampened hair and the unmistakable sound of sobs echoed eerily in its path; quickening his pace, Danny hurried along the cobblestone towards the pain stricken young woman, hesitating and finally stopping a good five feet from the bench.

Sam was a wreck, curled up half frozen on a completely frozen park bench in little more then a scarf and light jacket for warmth. The usually luscious lips looked eerily blue in the dim light and her dark hair was frosted over with a layer of snow so thick it suggested the girl hadn't moved for an hour or more. Tremors now and then wracked the lithe body, rims of exhaustion around her eyes and the slightly frozen look of her an image almost as hard to forget as her body floating in her own blood. It was like a vice had begun to squeeze his heart, pushing him past his emotional limit and to the edge of slowly dwindling patience; love her though he did, Danny was sick of always being the hero, always being the savior to every damn person who asked. No one ever once considered the pain running through him, the pressure falling hard as marble and slate onto his shoulder or asked if they could help shoulder it, and now even his girlfriend took advantage of it. He was not unbreakable, though everyone liked to see him that way, he was a sixteen year old boy for fuck sake, why the hell did everyone expect him to be an adult when they themselves could not?

It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and at the moment Danny almost made the biggest mistake of his life, wanting nothing more then to tell the girl how pathetic she was, whining like an attention craving dog because she just 'wasn't happy'. Maybe everyone was right about her, maybe she was pathetic, maybe she was a waste of his time, maybe he WAS to good for someone like her, Maybe…

Tears were frozen on their trek down the paling cheek, originated from dull lavender eyes that seemed to be attempting to find a sparkle yet failing miserably, lacking a fuse to light the fire. Seeing this proud oak, this proud girl, curled up in her own sorrow on a cold bench in an attempt to save her dignity and others, the tirade building in the young halfa stopped at the tip of his tongue, fury and hurt dying instantaneously upon seeing those eyes glance up at him for half a second then back down. Warmth wrapped itself around his bitter heart, the ever present knowledge of why he did what he did for her returning with all its vengeful power.

Sam couldn't help the pain, yet even now she sat out prepared to freeze just so she could work through it on her own, save him and everyone else the struggle of bringing her soul back from the darkness. After months of nothing, no help, no support, no love, one month of being allowed to taste heavens bliss could not erase what was done, was that why Danny loved her? That question seemed to plague him more now then it ever did, why did he love Sammy?

IT had been hard not going to anyone with the question, knowing that, although they would sort out the knotted mass his emotions tangled him into no one but him would ever be able to answer the question. Pity wasn't the reason, he knew that, neither was guilt or indeed any other emotion that came to mind except love and that only brought the question back to the beginning. Deciding that pondering it while his best friend, his girlfriend, froze to death in a park was not a smart move, Danny slowly sat down beside her.

"You are so stupid Sammy, crying alone out here in the cold instead of in my arms back at the house." He murmured, touching her ice-cold cheek in an attempt to bring some warmth back into the pale expanse of it. A shiver was her only response and, in a chivalrous motion the halfa pulled her into his coat and wrapped them both up in the warmth, hoping his body heat would delay the hypothermia beginning to set in. A pair of thin arms wrapped around his shoulders and the dark girl wriggled into his lap, her head lying in a pool of dark hair on his chest, the little lavender streak falling into the lilac eyes. Instinctively, Danny's hand traveled under her shirt, massaging warm flesh the moment his probing fingers found it and instantaneously every muscle in Sam's body turned to jelly. For a long while no words passed between them, one not wanting to break the comfortable silence the other afraid of the conversation that would follow; when a cool dampness soaked through his tee shirt, Danny gazed down on Sam's red rimmed eyes sadly wishing there was away to take away her pain. Being a ghost was useless when it couldn't save the people that mattered most, even a ghost couldn't fight the demon's haunting this girls nights, dulling the shimmer in her eyes. It made the young man feel helpless, knowing that for all his power there was next to nothing he could do.

"Jazz and Tucker got all the decorations up, the house looks great you'll be proud of them...they even cleaned it, I swear the floors sparkle and the rugs look brand new. I didn't help much I'm afraid, I was too worried. When you didn't come back after your walk…twenty minutes…thirty minutes… an hour…my sister threw me out actually" Smirking, his hand twisted themselves in her raven locks, the other still gently caressing the caved in stomach; Sam still didn't eat, at least unless someone made her, and it worried Danny a lot. Try as he might to convince her she was beautiful, he always caught the small frown on her lips when she forced a piece of potato down her throat, the distaste with which she looked in the mirror. Since the make over two weeks prior, it seemed the dark girl had gained some confidence but it was fragile and often faulty; everyone made sure to tell her she looked nice no matter what, it was an unspoken rule between them and it seemed to help some, even if she still had a long way to go in believing it herself. Playing with the dark curls (she had decided to try light curls for the day and it left Danny grateful for the power of a cold shower), he continued when she remained silent.

"You have to put the star up you know, like you do every year, and then we have to bake cookies and get batter all over each other so that Jazz can yell at our immaturity." The young girl seemed to find past memories amusing for her lips twitched into a barley noticeable smile, the lips then hiding against his warm, inviting chest. "And we have to get Jazz and Tucker under the mistletoe, if we accomplish anything this Christmas that has to be it." Danny wasn't that blind, even if he did play dumb, to the fact that the two were falling hard for each other but, just as Tucker kept quiet about the silent romance brewing between him and the girl in his arms, the young halfa did the same. They had to figure out the truth themselves.

"Do you love me Danny?" Startled at the question, Danny would have laughed had the voice speaking not sounded so fragile, so broken. When the seriousness of the inquiry sunk in, it was then every word, every thought seemed to freeze up just when they were needed most; although he did love her and had said it often enough, being asked almost felt different, like if he answered it would seal his fate. Holding her close and breathing in the sweet scent of vanilla and lavender bathing every pour and follicle on Sam's body, memories flooded through him.

A little angel falling from heaven straight onto his back, a girl standing up to the bullies for him and taking a hit in the process, their first dance in the ruins of a gymnasium, their first kiss, all the fights he'd won because of her tactics, feeling her limp body in his arms, the joy of seeing her awake, feeling her lips…. Without realizing it, his thoughts drifted from memories to dreams, imagining things not yet certain in life yet tempting to the emotions running through him. Kissing Sam tenderly and holding her close all through the dark night, long strolls through the park in the spring, hands intertwined and hearts close… Making love to her on their wedding night, tenderly exploring each other and deepening the relationship begun years before…feeling their child move within her, knowing they created something out of their love…

'Whoa, where'd that come from?' The thoughts seemed to shock even him, a boy with no real consideration towards the future, towards life in general. Yet, as his hand skimmed over the soft skin of Sam's stomach, Danny couldn't help thinking how beautifully she would look pregnant, the glow that surrounded new mothers radiating from her. Roses bloomed in his cheeks, it was far to early to think about marriage, or seeing Sam pregnant with his children…or was it?

The question rose in his mind again amidst the ever whirling thoughts; Why did he love Sam? What about her made him think about spending the rest of his life with her, fathering her children, being her husband even though he was only sixteen? Some people said that it was never too early to think about it when you have found the one you love more then anything else but…but the question was an itch he could not seem to scratch, the query that gave him many a sleepless night these past few weeks. Seeing a pair of sad eyes floating through the confused daze that had captured him, it hit Danny what thoughts might have occurred to Sam during his little soul searching moment, especially considering the question she had posed. Gently touching her cheek, searching for an answer in her gaze and, much to his irritation, finding none, the young halfa tenderly brushed her lips with his, lingering for a moment to savor the electric shock every one of her touched sent down his spine. Pulling away and leaning their foreheads together, Danny smiled his slightly goofy, always loving Danny smile at her, the one that nearly always reduced the girl to a quivering mass.

"Like the stars love the moon" he whispered, stroking her cheek and trying desperately to banish very suggestive thoughts from his male brain. Sam deserved so much more then to be overwhelmed by his roaring wave of hormones, deserved to be treated like the beautiful person she was and not just a plaything the way every other boy treated their girl. Hormones screamed at him to just explore what was under that plunging neckline and beneath those just-a little-to-tight jeans, and it took a lot of will power to drown them out. If they ever did cross that line, it would be special, and Danny would make sure it was more then just a casual one-night stand. Sam defiantly deserved better then to be used like that.

"I'm sorry" came another whispered from somewhere in his chest as she buried her face back against him, trying in vain to hide a deep shame; for a moment, Danny was terrified she was about to break up with him but her next words calmed one fear and opened an old wound. "You saw them, I'm sorry I…I couldn't help it, I wanted to handle it alone and the knife was there…I was just so scared. What if…lots of what if's you know? What if I kept talking and you just told me I was pathetic?" A pang of guilt shot through the boy, leaving a sick feeling in his stomach at words voicing the very same thoughts he'd toyed with earlier. "What if you got sick of me? What if you decided you couldn't handle me anymore? I don't belong with you, at your house, sharing your holiday, I'm not part of your family and I certainly don't deserve to try; even knowing how much I hurt you I can't stop. I tried but I just can't." Tears soaked through his thin tee shirt and violent sobs wracked the girls' fragile body, the ache once again becoming liquid falling on an all to ready bearer. Pulling her close to him, he tenderly brushed his lips against her warming skin and kissed away every single tear that fell, massaging her bare stomach until the heart wrenching sobs eased to simple tears. Drawing the trembling body closer to him and directing the downcast lilac eyes to meet loving cerulean orbs, Danny studied the miserable face feeling the determination to make things right settle itself right down in his chest.

"I know you tried, habits are hard to break, and yours…yours is no different no matter it hurts us to see you do it. But don't think I'm not disappointed in you Sammy, don't look away your going to listen and take it with all the strength I know you have." The dark girl tried to look away in shame but the firmness of his tone, the severity of his words brought the lilac orbs back to gaze wearily at their mates. "You choose to suffer all of this alone instead of trusting me to help you and that hurts worse then knowing you cut; I love you Sam, I'll shout it in front of the entire student body if that's what it will take for you to believe me. When you don't believe that, when you don't trust me…that hurts a lot, I know I haven't been the best friend in the past. I've blown you off when I should have helped you, but I can't read minds and I can't help you if you don't ask me to. Sammy," Danny crashed their lips together, shocking the young woman to protest before she melted in his arms, wielding to the feelings of his lips on hers, his tongue slowly exploring every crevice of her mouth with excruciating meticulousness. Soft mewls of pleasure escaped her as she pressed closer to him, probing her tongue tentatively in his mouth and finding her exploration fully welcomed. The taste that always seemed to drug her overwhelmed her senses, both drowning in the others taste, an essence so very them, until oxygen became an issue and they needed to pull away, the young woman completely forgetting there was a point to be made here. Keeping the beautiful lips within range, the glazed over eyes millimeters from his, Danny continued to whisper in a slightly husky voice.

"You have no idea how hard it is to keep from jumping you, to keep all these emotions from overwhelming us both. My heart is always on the line, held tightly in your palm since the moment I met you and every time you forget how much I love you, every time you take your pain in silence, you crush it just a little more. Love, Sammy, let me love you please, let me make those demons go away, let me kiss that darkness out of your eyes." Tears welled up and feel again, each crystal drop kissed away by his tender lips before they pressed softly against hers again, trying to release the bubble threatening to explode in his chest. He loved her; he loved the girl so much it hurt just to look at her, to be away from her for even an instant. A hand gently touched his cheek and pulled them back into a kiss, tender in every way with an underlying passion, unhurried and young. Years of friendship had finally morphed into a tender relationship and were beginning to develop physical wants and desires, the feelings of lust and passion for each other still ill matured and confusing for the couple. Kissing and caressing was all they felt able to do thought each desired the other, neither could sort out the confusion in their minds long enough to decide what they would want. Danny let his hands move chastely on the skin of her stomach and back, staying with respectful distance of certain parts of her body, not wanting rush but fairly encouraged by her reactions to even the slightest touch of his hand. After about ten minutes of light caresses and heavy kissing, the two pulled away, cuddling contently against each other beneath a beautiful winter sky. Sighs escaped the young woman pillowed on his chest, her eyes closed around a content smile; for the time everything seemed okay but Danny wanted to be sure that she was truly all right.

"Sam? You feeling better now?" Lavender eyes opened to meet azure irises, sparkling with love and a short happiness only one man could ever bring her. Seeing all he needed, Danny grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to her reddening nose, the tip of it ice cold from exposure to the bitter wind. Pausing for thought, the young halfa hesitated before sitting the girl on the bench, his coat wrapped tight around her, and tenderly taking the cold hand between his gloved one.

"I'm going to make a deal with you Sam, because I know this will happen in the future no matter how much I don't want it to. You aren't going to stop cutting right away, you need to do it for whatever reason and, even if I don't understand the need I understand why, but I want you to do something for me if I keep quiet." It was malicious and low to use pain as a control over the girl but it was for her own good, to prove his trustworthiness to an obviously scared young woman who, for all the love she sought, had trouble accepting it. Patiently, Sam waited for him to drop the bomb, trying and failing to hide the anxiety brewing beneath the surface, something Danny picked up immediately. "For every cut you make I want an explanation, I want you to tell me why, to make me understand. Do you think you can do that?"

"Y-yea, I think I can do that." She murmured, giving him a weak smile and gently pulled up her sleeve, showing him the wounds already scabbed over and crusty. "I told you all of these, there are too many to count but…" A finger silenced the concern, one hand gently tugging the sleeve down and the owner of the hand feeling a coy smile beginning beneath the pad of his finger. Smiling back, Danny questioned himself again, for what had to be the millionth time, why he loved Samantha Manson. There was nothing particularly fantastic about her in comparison to other girls, she was beautiful but not gorgeous, smart but not brainy, original but not a trendsetter so what was it?

'Maybe it because she's none of it, she's beautiful without an ounce of make up, the hardest working person I have ever met, so original she can't even keep up with herself, and the most stubborn, kindhearted, loyal woman I have ever met.' Giving his goofy, Danny grin, the boy ceded the truth to his heart. Sam was nothing and everything, and more importantly all that he could ever need, want, or ask for.

"Its cold and we have cookies to bake and a tree to top; Lets go home." Taking her hand and crawling back into the jacket, the two lovers made their way home in companionable silence, content to just be normal kids in a normal world even if it was only for a moment.

It's a wonderful feeling
Feel the love in the room from the floor to the ceiling
It's that time of year
Christmas time is here
And with the blessings from above

Flashback

"Sorry Honey, but things have come up and it looks like we aren't going to make it for Christmas."

Angry tears poured from red-rimmed violet eyes, the pigtails of a eight year old little girl matted with three days worth of sorrows and ill repressed hate. Nothing mattered to them except their stupid jobs, managing the stupid company, not even a lonely child curled up against the deep plum comforter in search of the only form of support anyone had to offer an abandoned, neglected little girl. Without school, there was no need to vacate the premises giving Samantha every opportunity to cry without the fear of appearing babyish or weak, to hurt even thought she could not really understand why she was in so much pain.

Christmas Eve. A day worse then even December the 25th for it was on this day families came together in love an grace, gathered around fires to tell tales and enjoy each others company and the shared anticipation of the joy a new dawn would bring. Yet, for some children, curled up in silent homes with barley a twinkling night light to brighten the evening, the dawn only brought more misery far out of their comprehension. Samantha Manson was one child, left alone to wallow in her abject misery, wandering like an adult in a child's' body, unable to banish a single painful thought from surfacing in her mind.

What had she done to make her Mommy and Daddy hate her so much? Not once, had either embraced her, told her they loved her, kissed away her tears; other mommies did it while daddies turned sobs to giggles but not hers, never hers. Silently drifting from room to room, sad eyes and tiny fingers roamed over dusty furniture and pictures of all but the occupant, clutching a worn out brown bear as the only thing dependable and solid. Sam really could not remember where the bear came from or why, of all things, it became a permanent fixture in her life but it had, it was the only friend the strange little girl could make and wiped more tears then living flesh could lay claim too. Watching the black beady eyes follow her own eyes, the young girl ran slim fingers through the tattered, balding fur and across the fraying thread nose; wide eyes took in only darkness, no seasonal beauty in any room or crevice of the overly large house. Something about it was cold, frigid even to guests and no one person stayed long unless life threateningly necessary, saving their own sanity rather then providing comfort to the prisoner of the stone walls. Not that Sam could ever blame them for leaving, she wished she could leave, just grow wings and fly away from all the loneliness, the pain, or to be saved by a knight in shining armor who would whisk her away like in all the stories. Unfortunately, nothing about the lanky eight year old screamed royalty, nothing even gave a favorable impression; according to a nasty little girl in her class, Sam was plain, ugly even and not worth the time spent on her. Only one person in the whole wide world cared about her, her best friend who she spent all her time with; he was really nice even if he was a boy.

'Ring, ring' Deep within the houses corridors and chambers, a bell rung drawing a startled shriek out of the small figure, huddling herself in the cobwebby corner of what, once, was Mr. and Mrs. Manson's bedroom and now was merely an old relic left to remind them of a lost paradise. The words fell on dumb ears, their young daughter not understanding what was meant by their distasteful looks towards her or regretful tones until it was to late to prove her worth. Now all the young girl could do was scramble like a rabbit, fight back tears, and push as hard as possible to make proud people who never wanted her to begin with. Sam pushed past her limits everyday, trying to stand up in everyone's eyes only to be knocked down for a simple error, a red mark, a snicker, the constant reminder of her imperfections.

'ring, ring, ring' Again and again the jingle of company echoed through the dead house, startling the shadows to movement and slowly drawing out tiny feet, tiny hands, and eventually a full person from the pitying position. Clutching the ragged toy to her chest, the girl hesitantly braved her fear of the dark shadows and hidden monsters, stumbling on her skirts as she decided the stairs, hoping not to get lost again searching for the door. Even after nearly six months of residency, the little girl still found herself turning in circles in the large house; more often then not, she spent a cold night on the floor cuddled up in a jacket or rug, praying through tears for someone to save her. After several pathetic attempts at finding the front door, Sam finally managed to find the ornate bronze handle, hoping that she didn't appear as disheveled as she felt; people judged a lot on how pretty you looked, this person might tell her parents if she didn't act like a pretty young lady. Then they might never love her. Grasping the cool metal knob, she twisted and pulled it open enough to peak out and see who it was; squealing in delight, she through it open and jumped onto the rather startled young boy standing innocently on his doorstep. The bear was squished between them and, despite Danny's apparent bewilderment he made no move to try to dislodge he knew attachment, knowing that she was home alone and probably more then a little lonely. Eventually they broke apart and the blue eyed, tousle haired little boy smiled goofily at his friend

"My mom says it's not right to be alone on Christmas, so your gonna stay with us until your parents come back, Mom's waiting in the car for us." Joy swept through the tiny girls body, a look of wonder passing through before almost immediately draining into a miserable frown; digging her toes into the carpeting, Sam couldn't force the words to come out that needed to be said. "Why don't we go in and get your stuff so you dun have to come back." Quietly the door snapped shut and Sam left her friend in the hall, wandering up to her room and trying to get up the energy to pack. It should be a happy moment, knowing that Christmas would include a family this year, a warm home full of laughter and joy, but it dwindled down to knowing she could very well spend the rest of her life in the Fenton house. Sam's parents would never come home, not until she could make them proud of her, prove to them she was worth their love.

'Sam?" A soft voice echoed in the hallway, two azure irises peering into the dark bedroom, both full of concern over the wet splotches on the brave little girls face; Danny never before saw his always strong friend cry, not even when that bully Dash punched her in the stomach. It was one of the best qualities about her, that she never let people see weakness in her and never admitted in herself. Sam never gave up, and it made the sight of her tears more startling. "Sammy what's wrong?" Collapsing into the security of an ocean of purple, a little girl started to sob again, letting the comforting color soak up the feelings a young heart just couldn't seem to handle; the suitcase she had been packing lay forgotten on the floor, pushed off as the little boy crawled to the middle of the little island his best friend stranded herself on. Tears kept coming, all she wanted was to be love, to be good enough for her parents; they forgot about her, they hated her, turned her away when she reached up for a hug, walked past her without sparing a glance. Love, the only thing in the world she wanted, to have someone to hold her like she saw other mommies and daddies do, to kiss her good night and tell her they loved her. A pair of awkward arms wrapped around her middle, jerkily pulling her weighty body up into a welcoming hug; for the young boy, this was a position he prayed never to be caught in knowing without a doubt how much teasing he would get for it.

"They 'bandoned me again," Sammy sobbed, arms wrapped tight around the little boys neck as he uneasily patted her back, trying to soothe her without the knowledge of how "They'll never come home Danny, they'll leave me here to die, they don't love me nob'dy loves me." Roses bloomed in the little boys cheeks, the 'L' word way more then his eight year old mind even wanted to process. Still patting the little girls back lightly, he made a stumbling attempt at comfort, unsure of how to handle a situation like the once suddenly digging its claws in to him.

"Well…you're my best friend and I guess that means I l-lo.." Grimacing, Danny fought his hardest to force the disgusting world out, much to the amusement of the slightly cheered eight year old girl now sitting on the bed staring at him. "Oh you know what I mean! Listen Sammy, get all ready and we can go to my house and have fun! Your parents are stupid if they aren't here so we'll be your family for a little while till they aren't so stupid!" Considerably cheered at the unconventional cheering Danny gave her, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and the two friends began to pack enough clothes for several weeks, silence reining between them.

Eventually they finished and piled into the back of the Fentons' old beat up Buick, giggling as they collapsed in a writhing heap at the sudden forward jolt of the old beast. It was a pleasant ride, the friends singing Christmas jingles a barley tolerable decibels alongside far better voices pouring from the radio. Now and then the off key chorus was interrupted by squeals of delight when the street lit up sudden with lights of all colors and forms, reflecting in the eyes of to wonder struck children. The magical ride soon came to an end, the car sputtering into silence before the almost glowing Fenton household. Zillions of lights traced every curve and angle of the tall, slightly off kilter building, its resemblance to a Gingerbread house uncanny; each light reflected in a blurry glow over the dark lilac eyes, entranced until a tiny hand appeared, shaking the young girl from thoughts of sugar plums and Santa Claus. Tonight the sleigh would take to the sky, the bells ringing out over the silent villages and towns hailing the coming of the magical day, already the anticipation swelled like a balloon in the pit of her stomach. Christmas would be different this year, her hand fell softly in his as he chivalrously, yet clumsily, helped Sam from the car and led her to the steps until she stopped sudden and he was jerked back. Lilac irises were fixed on a glowing object miles high, shooting like a falling star across the navy quilt knitted by the angels and studded with the most beautiful of diamonds. A single finger pointed, the other tightly grasping a suitcase and ragged bear

"Santa Claus, look Danny it's Santa!" Grinning, he tugged her hand hard and they piled into the front door, letting everything except the worn teddy tumble to the floor, their excitement overpowering as the two jammed themselves in the door way to the family room, eyes practically glowing with joy and anticipation.

"We saw Santa!" The two gasped out simultaneous, breaking into a fit of giggles afterwards when the red head little girls glare settled on them, obviously disgruntled at having missed out; the two always tried to best the older girl, love her though she did Jazz was Danny's big sister and fair game for attack. The redhead knew that and always found ways of striking back at them, usually in ways they could laugh about the next week. Unfortunately, they did not see their undoing hanging but six feet above their head as innocently as a Christmas light; grinning maliciously, a devious light shone in the rich aquamarine eyes, the childlike attitude of the season seeming to radiate in the room as those aqua irises focused on the simple little decoration just above her two friends heads.

"Did you then sweeties? Well you three had best get to bed then, you know Santa doesn't leave toys for children who aren't sleeping." The youngest turned, prepared to rush through evening preparations so as to hail the arrival of the jolly old gift bearer, until a shrill voice broke through the shuffle.

"But mommy, their under the mistle-toe and now they got to kiss don't they? It's in the rules of Christmas!"

"I'm not kissing her! That's gross!" Danny cried out, but Sam could not find anything to reply with, the roses in her cheeks seeming to have stolen the words right out of her mouth. Kiss…a boy? More importantly, kiss Danny? Danny was her best friend that was just…just wrong! She couldn't kiss him that would be like kissing Jazz, besides kiss boys gave you cooties. How could she face the pretty girls at school knowing she had Danny's cooties? Frowning at his last comment, the little girl irately crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a glare.

"Daniel Fenton are you saying I'm gross? Well you've got cooties!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do-"

"Daniel, Samantha now that's enough!" Mrs. Fenton warned sternly, silencing the two guilty children with mildly threatening voice. "Now, Jazz is right, it's a rule that people under mistletoe have to kiss each other, but since your both so scared I would understand…" It was underhanded but seeing the flustered pair was so adorable that the mother could not but tease them a bit, not sincerely expecting them to do the deed. After all they were only eight, neither needed to worry about kissing or, indeed, the love that came from it for several years; but agreeing with the eldest girl seemed to please at least one person, the two littler ones shuffling uneasily below the cursed plant. The young man dared his mother to repeat that statement; Daniel Fenton was afraid of nothing!

"You better not make me marry you!" Came the half hearted warning before, to the shock of everyone in the room, Danny lightly pressed his lips to the startled girls, her lavender eyes open wide and body stiff as a board; a light flash indicated the taking of a photo to preserve the once in a life time moment, forever immortalizing the pain in Danny's scrunched up face and the blooming roses in Sam's cheeks. When they pulled away everything was silent for about twenty seconds until, with a disgusted gag, Danny dashed out of the room yelling something about girl cooties; it was utter chaos getting anyone to settle down into bed but eventually they were all tucked in for the night and all but the shimmering twinkle lights of the tree faded into darkness.

Not all was silent though, the fearful whimpers of scared little girl broke the quiet followed by the padding of tiny feet across cold wood and the squeak of old hinges. Lavender eyes, watery above wet cheeks, seemed to tremble as tiny lips quivered and a little girl, clutching a teddy bear as though it was the last thing tying her to the world, tugged on the sleeve of her best friend, meeting a bleary blue eye.

"Sammy? Santa's going to be mad if he sees you're awake." The young boy commented sleepily, tired mind barley registering the moisture pouring from the little girls eyes but noticing after a slight turn of his head. A little hand brushed them off before lifting the covers to the silent request of those lonely orbs, giving enough berth for the little form to crawl in and curl up beside him, abandoning the bear in exchange for the arms wrapping around in comfort. "Better?" A sleepy nod was the only response as Sam, now feeling comfortable and safe, finally drifted into a fitful sleep, tears still trailing slowly down overly pale skin. Watching with a boyish grin, his scruffy black hair falling child like into his eyes, Danny made sure the girl was a sleep before, quickly, placing a very chaste kiss on her lips and smiling widely in triumph. To save his pride, the boy could not admit having enjoyed the seasonal kiss between them and his inability to resist taking the opportunity to share another. Snuggling down in the quilt beside his best friend, eight year old Danny Fenton yawned and managed to whisper groggily before the sandman claimed him,

"Merry Christmas Sammy."

God sends you his love
And everything's ok
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays

Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
No matter what's your holiday
It's a time to celebrate

Watching. It was amazing how simply looking around at the world can make even the dullest moment in time suddenly life altering, for when observing those unaware of being under consideration gives a huge insight to their thoughts, their feelings, their truth. When the holiday season came around people especially showed their true colors. From passing by the Salvation Army helpers to wrinkling their noses at gifts that, in their opinion, were far too cheap and beneath them. Children's laughter could be told as fake and greedy, a woman's smile plastic, a man's fake strength; it was easy to tell the believers from the non, even if it shouldn't be so and no matter how far smiles stretched, how loud they laughed, Jazz saw the silent tears inside.

Another Christmas was beginning to pass; another year of everyone's life fading into memory and with it the arising of fears for the future and regret over painful moments and lost opportunities, for all its joy came a large amount of baggage none but the very young could seem to escape. They, at least, still had their belief in magic, something that adults forgot in their steady ascent. Maybe that was why children adored the holiday so, it still held the untainted innocence age slowly drained a person of.

Though watching the hoarding masses amused the budding psychologist, Jazz was on a mission that she had only an hour to complete with little idea of how she was going to accomplish it. She had one hour to find a gift for Tucker, otherwise there wouldn't be nearly enough time to speed home and wrap it before the little snoop could figure it out. The only problem was, unlike her toad of a brother and his girlfriend, their didn't seem to be a gift striking her as Tuckerish, everything either to expensive or to plain. What did you get the most important man in your life if you weren't dating them? It was a plaguing question, and the glow in the dark boxer shorts being displayed in the department store window did not seem the appropriate answer, yet there was no way she could return home empty handed. With two days remaining until Christmas Eve, the gift needed to be bought before everything sold out, Sam's and Danny swung neatly at her side, as did the parents gifts, yet none of them seemed as important a purchase as this. What was she going to get him.

"You look as though a great dilemma has fallen upon you child, in such a season of joy what has caused such a miserable façade?" Glancing up with confused aquamarine eyes from the pitiful display in the little specialty shop, the redhead's eyes met those of a most beautiful emerald hue, the woman in possession of them far lovelier then any angel ever portrayed by the most talented of artists. Bleach blonde hair hung long, framing a heat shaped face and the most mysterious emerald eyes, watching quietly from beneath thick black lashes; something about the soft, secretive aire about the beauty drew Jazz like a moth to a candle flame. Pressing delicate hand on the foggy glass case, the young woman dipped her head and sighed in mournful defeat.

"Perhaps the young lady is searching for a perfect gift for someone special in her heart?" Head shooting up, distrustful eyes focused on the seemingly innocent woman trying to pick apart whether her predicament was obvious or if some foul play was taking place. Attempting to coexist with Danny the past few weeks made her rather paranoid, afraid of a ghost attack or some sinister plot far above her head. Jazz did not like being confused, nor did she particularly like being ignorant and something in those emerald irises created both in her. It was as though those eyes penetrated her walls and masks, searched like x-rays through her very soul and hear to pull out the truth. The feeling was very disconcerting.

"Fear not child I do believe I have the perfect gift for him, do not worry about a thing." Turning around, the woman's eyes scanned the many shelves and cabinets without a single twitch of her body as though already knowing what to search for. Suddenly, a slim hand shot out and drew a small item from the very back of a rather large cupboard, placing it on the table gently and awaiting the response. For her part Jazz was left utterly speechless, staring wide eyed at the gift and then back at the woman, mouth moving without a sound coming. IT was perfect, so perfect and the fact that this woman knew was not only startling but frightening.

"Who are you? How…how did you know?" At first, the only response to the words was a tranquil smile, the very appearance of the pretty face like a freshwater lake, undisturbed by man or, indeed, by the raging rivers and fierce storms. Hers was the face of true inner peace, mysterious darkness, and boundless wisdom; putting a well manicured figure to her lips, the woman looked up in serious contemplation before responding gently.

"Who I am is of little importance, who are you is a far better question I must say, though that is far past the topic in question isn't it? It is easy to know, to solve you inner turmoil, certain things just become obvious to a person who knows all to well how to read it doesn't it? You are well aware of this aren't you?" The eyes flashed for a moment, a sudden darkness lashing out at the young woman and pushing her back a step in fear, unsure now of who, or what, this woman was "Do not look so timid. Such emotions are beneath you, take your stand, you know hiding behind those marks on your arms will do no good for you nor for him; he is changing, as are you truly a girl of your intelligence must see that? Will you let fear step between destiny or will you allow it to move along the way it is meant to?" The seemingly powerful aura faded to a human glow, the woman who, a moment ago, seemed god like now appeared as mortal as she stood their, gently wrapping up the package and handing it to the speechless Jazz who took it without argument.

"Take it, no charge for a lovely young woman. Now go home and wrap those other gifts, only a few days until Christmas you know." Fully freaked, Jazz scrambled out the door, ignoring the soft tinkling bell and the eyes resting on her retreating back as the emotionally unstable girl took trembling steps back to her home, hoping to clear the confused muddle out before then.

---

Procrastination was a bitch. That was the conclusion that Sam had managed to arrive at after three hours spent scouring Amity for the perfect gift for her boyfriend. Usually it would be a gift card to his favorite store but that did not seem to be a good enough this year, nor would it be good enough any year after. Sighing, the young woman literally collapsed onto a wooden bench, looking out at the speeding vehicles and passing bystanders walking by as though she were invisible. Invisibility. That was what pushed her to the brink of destruction, the pains of loneliness and the fear of being forgotten; now it seemed silly to want to die over such thing but then she now had Danny, the very reason for her continued existence. As always, a secretive, slightly goofy smile spread itself out far on her face, the usually solid Samantha inwardly melting into goo and the pleasant thoughts of her boyfriend. She loved him more then was probably healthy, sometimes it was hard not to. No matter the pain or tears, no matter the screams he never stopped holding her, calming her, letting her get out whatever tried to break her; she had cut once more since their late evening chat and, true to her word, she explained a reason behind everyone. Strange how meticulously making a cut for every pain limited the wounds and lessened the agony surrounding each.

Things would get worse once holiday break was over and she officially returned to classes, according to the other three, news about her suicide attempt spread like wild fire through the halls of Casper high. The very thought of returning to that hell hole caused at least three of the wounds on her arm; it would be forcing herself to face that masses with a brave face again, taking chance without Danny to catch her every time. Although he promised, Sam knew it was impossible for him to repel the biting words and violent actions the other students would direct at her; no matter what was said contrary, the dark girl knew she did not belong, that she was the deformed in a herd of beauties. Nothing anyone said could change that, no make over could cover up the truth.

"Look boys, the little freak lives. Pity she had to pull through, she would have done everyone a favor by just dying." Cruel laughter floated over the girl, and moisture unwillingly rose in the tightly shut lavender eyes no matter how degrading it was to let those worthless pieces of shit get to her; they were right, and she didn't want to admit it. "Aww look, the wittle baby is crying. Maybe she needs a little help." Rough hands grabbed her and shoved the malnourished body into a puddle of slush congealing at the roadside, another pair dragging her back and yanking her up by the hair, drawing a muffled shriek of pain.

"Little bitch got an upgrade, she's almost pretty now, maybe if Fenton doesn't want her I"ll take her…A pretty little thing needs a real man to show you the facts of life, I know things that Fenton loser couldn't even dream about." A dirty hand began grouping through her shirt, Dash's leer inches from her terrified face even as she thrashed in the iron grasp of her capture; mustering every bit of courage left, she drew back and hocked a glob of spit into his face, watching with satisfaction as he drew back in horror, hand following. Wiping the slime from his face with the shirt of a passing nerd, he advanced menacingly, eyes full of cold fury and the thought of dangerous things. A hand shot out and struck her hard on the face, the skin red and stingy when it drew back for another hit, the hands gripping her so hard they would leave bruises; fear trembled through her, tears slowly trailing down her face as she prayed for a miracle. It came in the most unexpected source.

"Don't break her just yet Dash" A nasally voice reminding her of a combination of nails on a black board and boy band singers, chirped sweetly to him "Let her go and run back to Danny, I want to be the one to break her when Danny dumps her flat on her ugly little face for me." The hand let her go, shoving her into a wall before she had a chance to retort, the group drifting down the street and howling with laughter at their supposed success. Shakily collecting the belongings strung about during the skirmish, Sam let the tears fall and her body tremble; five minutes alone with the popular's and already they attacked like sharks at chum and as far as could be seen, she had done nothing to deserve it.

A shriek escaped her lips when a hand gently fell on her shoulder, terror at having been caught off guard again knocking her on her back, wide lavender eyes gazing up in fear into a pair of concerned emerald eyes, the feelings radiating from them creating a calming sensation throughout her body. Sam found herself standing, bags hung on her arm and clothes completely straightened without any idea of how her state of collection had come to be.

"Are you well child? I wish I could have prevented what occurred but when I realized their actions it was to late to step in and prevent them. Should I see them again, however, I am certain they will be the ones cowering. Child, child are you well? You still seem rather shaken." Lilac eyes drifted over the form wide and slightly wild, clutching close the parcels in a way that reminded her of comforts long passed. Of course she was shaken, in fact she was downright terrified which was more frightening then the actual events; Sam could remember a time when all they fought with was words, now she was terrified of the severing of her and Danny during school, of being cornered and molested by pig headed jerks. Weak as she was, there would be nothing the dark girl would be able to do but scream and, in their school, cries for help were unheard unless coming from the lips of high-class students.

"No, I'm fine thanks…or at least I will be," collecting herself again, Sam looked around and found herself inside a quaint little shop that she had never seen before. IT was full of everything imaginable and the girls eyes widened considerably, some of it looked quite old and fragile while other things looked brand new. What was this store?

"See something you like Miss?" The woman's quiet voice asked, startling the young woman who had immersed herself so far in the treasures lining the walls she had neglected to remember the occupancy of another in the room. "Perhaps for a man who has captured your heart?" Lilac irises still wandering the endless shelves, cases, and cabinets, the voice belonging them spoke wistfully,

"Yes, an amazing, perfect, wonderful man. It should be easy, I mean I've known him for half my life but…it isn't, I mean I love him and this gift has to be perfect, but nothing-nothing seems to fit him." A soft chuckle escaped the woman who proceeded to pace the rooms' edges, eyes roaming carefully in search of something. It was at this point Sam saw the shopkeeper in earnest, the realization of the face behind the mortal mask knocking the breath out of her. White hair, green eyes, simple yet flattering attire, that calming feeling and knowing glance….

"Lilith," she whispered eyes wide with shock. Did this woman know her at all? She certainly acted as though she did not but…but the resemblance was uncanny, it had to be the same person; how many other people resembled ghosts in this town aside from the actual ghosts and Danny? A hand paused on its movement, and mischievously twinkling eyes stared dead on at the dark girl, leaving that uncomfortable, naked feeling running through her.

"Did you say something Dearie?" Violently shaking her head, she watched the meticulous motions as Lilith drew something from one of the shelves, blowing a fine layer of dust off and carefully placing it on the counter.

"I do believe, Ms. Manson, this will do just fine. No cost for a gentle heart, take it home and do record the reaction later." With that said, the mysterious woman disappeared into the back of the tiny shop, leaving Sam to retreat in silence, mind whirling with a thousand thoughts and feelings unable to settle themselves long enough to be grasped.

Life just kept getting interesting.

---

What did you give you crush for Christmas without telling them you have a crush on them? A considerably frustrated Tucker Foley rolled this thought over in his mind constantly and yet drew a blank when the time came to answer it. The search was not helped by the fact that the usual 'girly' Christmas gifts were things that his crush would be caught dead with, she was beautiful without make up to mess it up, smelled luscious without need of disgusting perfume, and anything else was far to expense for his budget to cover. Books were not yet off the list but, loathe as he was to admit it, the young African American had no idea what authors, or genres the young redhead liked to read. As well as they knew each other, the inner workings of Jasmine Fenton remained a pleasant mystery to him, a mystery he had exactly thirty minutes to crack before everything closed down and locked him out.

Tucker hated Christmas, watching the propaganda Santa's dance for cell phone sales, or toy department clearance made the holiday seem sickening, not that it wasn't before the industry boom. No matter how well the holidays went, the eve of the new year always tore a sigh of relief out of him, the knowledge that another year had come to pass with now serious upset calming; yet, this year, he had to make sure everything, including himself, was festive and cheery. If not for Danny and Jazz's sake then for Sam's. His three friends had suffered enough without his gloomy attitude making it worse. It was hard to let his heart feel for his Goth Friend, the knowledge that the group was beginning to split down the middle making it hard to cross the rift and join them; it seemed no matter how hard he tried, how much pain he felt at losing them, the rift only grew during each day that passed.

Seeing Sam lying prone and dying in that hospital bed the first time, letting tears of rage and guilt pour in a way they never had before…it terrified him, scared the stoic technology geek to know he was not as unemotional as the screen, that not all problems could be healed with ctr alt del. Now it was hard to even look at them, to face up to the fact that neither of them had, or ever would need him. No matter how hard he tried, Tucker would never be as close to Sam as Danny was, would never be as close to Danny as Sam was and it made the guilt overpower him at time, bringing the strong man to tears. Knowing he had done nothing to help, to truly connect with his best friends again made the young African American boy feel like the worst friend in the world, made him feel akin to Dash or Kwan. The worst of it was that they didn't miss him. When his…solution…kept him home from school, left him sick as a dog, no one came to call and ask if he was okay, Danny didn't phone to check up on his fallen friend and, in fact, didn't even realize he was missing when Tucker did return. Sometimes he wanted to take a knife to his skin, toe end the pain in one swipe knowing that it would be awhile before anyone really realized what had happened. When the feeling overpowered him, the young man grabbed his needle and upped his dosage, determined to drown out the pain by beating the ones who caused it.

A little red head ran by, her overly tired, yet smiling mother not far behind as the youngster jumped up and down in front of a toy shop, watching with wide blue eyes as a little train made its rounds on its little set track, the soft whistle entrancing the small child. A soft grin fell into place on the young man's lips, his chocolate eyes melting at the mirror image of a much younger Jazz, long before the pain and aguish surrounding the girl once so happy and joyous. The redhead was the only thing truly breathing life into him, the knowledge that someone needed him for whatever reason enough cause to keep him tied to the mortal earth. If he killed himself, who would she turn to when the nights got lonely and painful? Could he leave her without a shoulder to cry on or ear to listen? Could he leave when she needed, most of all, a friend to try to understand, to be there when no one else knew how? Tucker knew the answer even before the question was asked. As a human being, as a man, as a friend he could never do that; taking the cowards' way out was no way to go for him, it was never all right for Sammy and someday he hoped she would realize that. It was all he could do to keep Jazz from treading the same path. Whatever gift he found for his fallen angel, it had to be something that would speak his heart without saying a word and be able to help heal hers. Books were a fall back option if nothing else presented itself.

Eyes suddenly sliding into focus, Tucker found himself on unfamiliar territory, standing in watch surely must be the place all lost remotes, car keys, and the one missing sock end up. The shop was disorganized at best, the walls piled floor to ceiling with shelves of crap, new and old, yet some how seeming very unique in each pieces own way. Glancing around carefully, he took steps toward items that caught his eyes, now and then spinning a wheel or pressing a button, warm eyes wide with child like curiosity as each piece exhibited something fascinating. Still nothing seemed right for Jazz, it was beginning to look bad when a gentle voice called out to him, breaking the steely silence,

"I don't believe you'll find what your looking for over their young man." Standing at the doorway to a back room was, what Tucker was sure, must be an angel, the loveliness radiating from her person enough to knock a man out and pull him to his knees. "Do not drool, it is impolite and I do believe I am far to old for one such as you, beside you search for a gift for a special lady friend. Would you betray her in such a way?" Unassuming eyes studied him, the tone not accusatory merely curious, something that through the young man for a loop; any other woman would start screaming but this one spoke calmly and collectedly as though commenting on the weather. It was eerie. Not to mention the way she seemed to stare right into his soul left a chilly, uncomfortable crawl beneath his skin.

"I…suppose, I'm not even going to ask how you knew that." He said, almost sure, he did not want to know the source behind this woman's knowledge. A mysterious smile spread over her cherry like lips and slim finger lightly put an object on the counter, eyes watching expectantly for the reaction to the possible gift. Tucker swore angels were singing and that hell had just frozen over as he gazed on a gift so simple, yet so perfect it was almost blinding.

"This is so perfect! You really do rock Ms. Erm…Miss." He continued lamely, grabbing up the parcel and reaching for his wallet only to be stopped by a pale, ice-cold hand.

"No charge, who can put a price on healing am I right Sir? Your lady friend will post certainly love this and perhaps it will serve your noble purpose well, I certainly believe it will help destiny play out for the better." Tossing her blond locks over her shoulder, the woman smiled and gently whisked the boy away, calling out gently to his retreating back "Do have a Merry Christmas Sir, and don't let those nasty memories ruin it for you." Glancing back with Startled chocolate eyes, the boy did not see the woman in the shop but could not ease the unsettling feeling of being watched, of being exposed. Why had the woman said that? Had it merely been a chance comment and if not…how did she know?

Turning Jazz's gift over in his hand, Tucker managed a weary smile before tucking it away until he could be alone long enough to wrap it. The woman may have been disturbing, but at least she solved his Christmas gift dilemma.

---

Attempting to put into an object all the feelings rolling around in your heart was completely impossible, as young Danny was beginning to discover when, after four hours of searching blindly, nothing near enough to convey his feelings to his girlfriend presented itself. Everyone else's gifts lay wrapped beneath the beautifully decorated tree, the bows glittering as an irritating reminder of the one person lacking a parcel. It made his stomach plummet when, upon poking about the tree, Sam's face fell when the others gifts sat perfectly wrapped while there wasn't even a card for her. It was hell trying to find something just right for the most amazing girl in his life, every time he thought he might have a lead to something perfect for the dark beauty it either did not fit her or was a stark reminder of the past. Beautiful as some of the things he had discovered were, they implied heavily that he wanted her to change, and that was the farthest thing from the young halfa's mind.

Once, the chance to conform the young Goth would be a once in a lifetime opportunity yet, looking back on the person he was, and the jaded glass hovering over his eyes, Danny had trouble remembering why any of them wanted a new Sam. All that came to mind was the rare moments they tenderly embraced after a moment of fear, the awkward, yet gentle words passing between them after dangers and terrors, the dances where he got the blessed chance to hold her close, movies where she gripped his arm in fright, burrowed her face in his chest. For all her faults, and there certainly stood whoppers in the background, there remained no memory of hating to hold the beautiful angel, being allowed to pull her close. Even as a child, Danny remembered a secret kiss in the dead night, lights twinkling from the roofs of neighboring houses. Sam never found out, to that very day it remained a closely guarded, much loved secret locked away in his heart; sometimes the young man wondered if, in seeing her at her weakest, he hadn't in the moment began to fall hard for his best friend. Danny supposed he would never know, the memories faded and weak with age, but the feeling strong and ever and that feeling truly remained the only important thing. He was eternally grateful he had realized his own heart before it was to late.

Sharing that, communicating that feeling through an object was his mission, and a huge mission it was for nothing possessed the statement he wanted to make; it should have been simple, but it was, in so many ways, the hardest thing about the holiday season: Finding the perfect gift for that perfect someone.

"Young man, may I assist you? It appears you are in quite a state of disarray, why I have been calling you for going on five minutes!" Soft as a spring breeze an full of winters chill, a voice floated over the small shop the halfa found himself in, eyes refocusing from a far away place he had not been aware of traveling to. Daydreaming was one thing, but that seemed like waking from a deep, relaxing sleep; Danny even felt refreshed as though he had been dozing for hours. A blue mist traveled from his lips but the shop seemed to distract from it, the mysterious smile of the only other occupant appearing a foot from his face, emerald eyes peering inquiringly into the cerulean orbs. Feeling exposed, the halfa stumbled back, the dead, emotionless eyes following every shaky step back, peering through thousands of layers (or so it seemed to him) to the fleshy core few ever saw.

"Young man, you are looking for something yes? Well I am selling something I do believe will serve your purposes if you can collect yourself enough to approach. And bring that picture in your pocket, we shall need that."

"There's no pic-" The words silence immediately as a bare hand collided with the stiff edge of photo paper, the edge of a picture that, previously, had not been there. Considerably shaken and on high alert, Danny hesitantly approached the shops counter, watching as something was delicately opened, revealing something simply so perfect the young man nearly hit himself at not having figured it out earlier. Nothing about it screamed Samantha Manson but in some way it was perfect for her, and it was up to him how he proved to her his love; there was no way one could buy love with a gift, nor by trust with a trinket and his reasons were neither. Nothing expensive need be bought for her, nothing fancy, but something that required thought and more then buying the first item to appear on a rack. Sighing quietly, a steady hand patted several pockets in search of a leather wallet, halting at the sound of a slightly amused chuckle, the soft tones reverberating off the cluttered walls.

"No Charge sir, I am sure she will love it and if you love her enough to give this to her then, well, I can ask nothing in return. For love there is no price to great, and It would be unethical of me to try and put a dollar amount. Wrap it well, perhaps write, or inscribe something into it, to remind her. I am sure it will never leave her sight so long as breath remains in her." The woman, who Danny had just noticed was a woman, spoke as though what she said was no more out of place then discussion about the weather. The young man, who had turned to leave, developed a sudden case of whiplash as his head jerked back only to see and empty room, the silence deafening and the previous occupant absent from sight and sense. A crawly chill ran through his spine, the knowledge that something about the sales clerk was off, and more then those dead eyes seemed wrong. For example, the fact that without telling her, the woman knew what who the gift was for and why he chose that particular item. Tucking the parcel safely away, Danny stumbled out without bother to glance back, afraid that, if she knew of Sam, the odd woman knew other secret as well.

He could only hope that she was not what she appeared to be.

Put your worries aside
And open up your mind
See the world right by your side
It's Christmas time

Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas
Happy Holidays

A quiet hush fell over the sleepy ghost town of Amity, an electric feeling slicing the frigid air and slowly flipping the switch within all, releasing the inner child and secret joy no one could repress. It was the kind of feeling that made you think of first snows, the smell of turkey roasting in the oven, the twinkle of lights in the water eyes of small ones. The silent magic of Christmas Eve invaded even the coldest, darkest heart and made the sleeping populace smile against their pillows, snuggling into a lovers embrace or into the safe grasp of a snuggly down quilt. Yet, though the stocking hung at the chimney, and the little ones stayed carefully tucked into bed, one creature did not sleep, a Christmas miracle brewing beneath the calculating exterior and quiet smile. Thank you was all she wanted to convey and, with however little idea she had of how to approach this, the young woman was determined to make it a Christmas Eve to remember. For both of them.

A flash of red startled the shadows as a buddle up young woman padded quietly across the floor, avoiding loose floorboards and squeaky nails with practiced ease, boots in hand and socks sliding slightly across the smooth, shiny surface. IT would be perfect if it could only be done without words, until they got where they needed to be of course. Turning the old brass knob carefully, she winced at the low groan all three hinges gave in protest of their use but it seemed the sound went unnoticed as no one stirred from their rooms. Releasing an inaudible sigh of relief, the young woman carefully tiptoed into the room intent on surprise only to have the plan backfire.

"If you're looking for a midnight snack the Kitchen's downstairs…" An amused voice yanked a startled yelp from the girl who whipped around only to see her query watching with humored chocolate eyes and a bemused smile. Jazz already saw her plan go whirling down the drain but no one said Fenton's were not determined and if she inherited anything acceptable from her parents, it was that.

Although she bought a gift two days prior, it did not seem enough when she cradled it in her hands to wrap it. True it was perfect for him but not enough, no not for this young man. Jazz couldn't place why it was so important she make this Christmas memorable, all that came to mind was him and a tradition of past holiday seasons she insisted on keeping up, even now when she was on the brink of excepting the inevitable. Tucker hated Christmas, he had said as much nearly a month ago and since then, a plan began to form beneath the curtain of red of a way to help him the way he had her. She was not yet ready to admit anything deeper then that pushed her to action but if she was completely honest with herself she knew It was so much more then one friends shoulder. Waking up to him beside her, cradling her to protect from nightmares and to brush the tears when he couldn't stop the monsters, feeling his heart beat as they shared a strong understanding, lying with him on the living room floor inches from the cliffs edge…. There was more in her heart for Tucker then there had been for anyone else, every morning began with a thought of him and every evening slipped into dreams of his face, his laugh, his smile. They battled the demons plaguing her nights and when his dream self could not vanquish them, the flesh and blood was always there. Always there. That was Tucker, never failing to be a shoulder to cry on, the man with all the right things to say… a man so easy to fall in love with it scared her. Jazz couldn't admit the feelings in her heart, her denial the only thing tying her to sanity; should it slip away, should the choice be made to accept the truth and let go it would plunge her into darkness. Perhaps a darkness not even the young African American in question could save her from. Aqua eyes roamed over the well built body, the last month having been very good to his form; he wore a green sweater that brought out a tint of jade in his brown eyes and pair of comfortable looking jeans. All in all, the only word Jazz could find to describe his currant state of dress was 'Hott'.

"I…er…have…that is to say…" The usually composed girl stumbled, trying to find away to keep it a surprise without sounding like an idiot in the process. Shutting her mouth for a moment to take a deep, cleansing breath, the redhead carefully thought every word out until it sounded acceptable. Dark eyebrows disappeared into a dark hairline at the stammering, the young man unused to hearing Jazz anything but collected; even during breakdown she managed to hold some semblance of dignity

"Want to go for a walk?" It was all she could think to say, the only words that would come out under pressure; despite her many masks and walls Jazz was horrible with secrets and even worse with lies. Truth or silence, that was the motto she tended to live by having fewer options. Sometimes, as Jazz began to find out a month prior, silence let a wound fester to the point of fatality. How long would it have been until the cool steel cut just a little to deep, bled a little to much, how long until the pool of blood staining the floor would amuse and gratify the broken heart. How long would it have taken Jazz to go looking for death? Without Sam's decline, without that sharp slap of reality and the slow crumbling of her inner walls, it would have been a matter of months, maybe weeks, until the strong resolve in her crumbled and the redhead was the one lying near death in a hospital bed. Yet, now the world seemed to brighten by the day and although the pain never really healed it was beginning to scab and scar, leaving only a memory of past abandonment and loneliness. Somehow that was just fine with her, and the young woman knew she had the young man staring bemusedly at her to thank.

"You are aware, my oh so insane friend, that it is Christmas Eve and the temperature is below freezing? Santa won't like this you naughty girl." A slow smirk spread out on his lips and met and answering chuckle, even as his firm hand reached out to grab his jacket from the puddle it lay in on the floor. Taking his hand after he had put it on, she gave a gentle smile and squeezed in comfortably, the way he had always done for her.

"I think he will understand." Lightly laughing, the boy pulled on his boots and wrapped his scarf around before gently padding out the door and down the hall, followed by a slight footed Jazz, her sharp eyes listening for sound of life in the silent house. Danny would never let them hear the end of it if the two were caught sneaking out at the late hours of the evening. They reached the front door with no resistance and the lack of knowledge from their mutual friends, much to the relief of both parties, and the redhead quickly stuffed her feet into the warm boots, opened the door, and tugged Tucker out into a Christmas Eve wonderland. Hanging from roof tops, tiny icicles shimmered against the low street lights and snow glittered like an endless sea of diamonds, heavy flakes still drifting lazily to earth and settling themselves down for a winters nap. Everything stayed silent, the entire world serene on this night, undisturbed by mortal woes and hopeless fears. Something about the simplicity made it more beautiful then anything the redhead could hope to see, even the hand gripping hers seemed to hold just a little tighter, the chocolate orbs encompassing, at times, her entire world, wide so as to drink in the splendor. As though in enchanted, the breeze tossed her red locks, letting them wave like that tip of a candles flame and making whisperings of magic and love in their ears. Tugging gently on the dark skinned hand, Jazz led him down the lifeless street, cuddled close for warmth while the two pass beneath arches of lighted garland and past all the jeweled lights of the season.

Deep into town, a nostalgia overcame the redhead as every turn, every store, every corner flooded her with memories from ages past, Christmas's and average days leading her down this path. Places of shared love and horrid anger, such as the park and school, as well as places of tears and healing like the hospital perched high on a hill in the distance, or the broken stump of an old oak tree. Snow stung her eyes as the storm picked up fiercely, the gale whipping up flakes from the snow drifts and dusting them with it; Jazz, dressed in the same jacket loaned to her in the beginning by the boy standing beside her as well as a scarf he gifted her , took the brunt of it having the least protection. Shivering, wet, and freezing cold, the young woman looked up startled when, despite the low groan of winters age beaten voice, the harshness did not scathe her skin. A pair of warm eyes smiled back down, two arms and the edge of a jacket surrounding her until the screeching wind settled and the boy deemed it fitting to release her. Regretfully, Jazz stepped back, smiling a silent thank you to the boy who never ceased to be her savior. For a few weeks, when they'd drifted after Sam's recovery, she had contemplated taking the same path because he didn't seem to care but, as always, he proved her wrong to her relief.

Falling angel, that was what he called her, a beautiful spirit with her wings clipped who needed to learn to fly again. The name hardly seemed to fit but no matter how she tried to throw him off of it, Tucker stuck to using it like it was glue; despite all the protests and disgruntled appearances she put up, Jazz admitted she was rather thankful he cared enough to call her that. In some way it was assuring to know someone thought enough to catch a 'falling angel'. When they met on that bench, the night frigid cold and hospital halls even colder, who would have guessed what would form between them from the moment the question passed his lips.

"Who will catch you?"

Such a question never occurred to the always steady girl, the naturally collected character not allowing for visible weakness or heartache; if she ever fell it would be silently, in the dark night when no one could see the wreck the redhead became. Now, it was hard to be that girl, especially around the young man that seemed determined to be the strong arms and warm heart that saved her. Saving face was all she could do now, playing fake so that no one could hurt her all the while trying to sort out the person beginning to form beneath the ice; Jazz was changing, and it was scaring her. So many people knew about the pain, about the heartache tearing like rabid wolves, taking chunk after chunk of fleshy heart and leaving only the bitter, foul tasting remains, Danny even watched her in a single moment of weakness, the last he would ever see her in if it were up to her. Wearing her heart on her sleeve was new to the girl, especially around a person she only just started trust, sometimes the insecurity crept back up and all she wanted to do was push him away, to crawl into the corner of her bed and hide, cry the tears she hated him seeing. But he would never allow that to happen, he was a temporary crutch that, slowly but surely, Jazz found herself leaning on less and less.

"So…any particular reason you dragged me out at" the boy looked at his watch, squinting to read the barley lit dial "11:57?" Thumb tracing gentle patterns on her palm, the boy looked curious and amused at the fact he was standing under the arch leading to the park, in the freezing cold, with his best friends sister (as well as his current love interest) without a clue as to why. Something about it was comical but he just choked it up to the irritatingly infectious holiday spirit. Smiling mischievously, the red head tossed her frosty hair out of her face and squeezed his hands, qua eyes gleaming in the soft moonlight.

"Tradition"

"It's a tradition to stand out in a frozen park in the middle of the night? Where have I been all these years…." Chuckling, Jazz nudged him playfully and rolled her eyes. Idiot. Loveable idiot, that was what he was, a little boy that would, hopefully, never grow out of his childishness. The world would come to an end, as would the groups' friendship, if that spirit, that humor, that silliness wasn't there to ease the tensions and make their serious tendencies relax even for a moment. Truth was, Tucker was more important to the group then anyone else, yet it seemed Jazz was the only one who noticed it; everyone else got so caught up in work, in the mature aspects of life they forgot fun. God only knows what would happen to them without Tucker to remind them how to lighten up now and then.

"No, but in about thirty seconds you'll find out what is." Anxiety gnawed at her, the feeling akin to heavy lead settling itself in the pit of her stomach. Taking a chance was not something she liked doing, and this certainly was a huge chance; it would decide who would be the victor of a momentous inner war. A decision Jazz had been putting off for as long as she could stand it. Luckily enough, tradition could block out some of the emotional strain that would come of this, at least that was the hope the redhead had in dragging the confused male to the arch leading to the park. Checking her watch, the seconds slowly ticked moving far too slowly, the minute hand quivering before settling atop the hour hand at twelve a.m., officially it was Christmas Day. Taking a deep breath and praying not to regret this, Jazz wrapped the one free hand around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

It was heaven. If she was not an angel before she certainly was now, the electricity shooting through every limb, flooding every sense was like inner fire works and it made her toes curl, it was incredible. It was not passionate, nor truly more then a light brush but it meant so much to her, feeling his arms wrap around her waist and carefully holding her in place as he began to return the favor, slowly and shyly, unsure about what brought about the sudden action. Each motion was so gentle, so loving it nearly killed Jazz to feel it, knowing this changed everything between him, knowing now what the constant ache in her chest was. His hand traveled up and gently stroked her cheek, the calloused skin of his thumb sending chills down Jazz's spine as it caressed the baby soft skin of her face, so meticulous about being gentle and careful, as though she was a precious porcelain doll. Although the moment was, in so many ways, perfect the young woman knew it must end before her heart took over sense and she did something she would regret yet it was not she who broke the connection first. Lips still parted, eyes closed to savor her short trip to heaven, it took a gentle caress and the press of two gently kisses on her eyes lids to get her to reveal the aqua gems to a pair of russet irises. Any fear of the reaction, the rejection, or the love that would suddenly flood from him drained like a puddle to her feet when their eyes met. No expectation of more, no sadness, but more hope then Jazz imagined could be in one man; in someway, Tucker knew not to ask more then what she'd been willing to give in that moment. Perhaps it was the silent pact between them, perhaps it was something more, but whatever prompted him to be collected and relaxed about what felt like so much more, Jazz was glad for it. While he could rationalize it in an instant, she was still trying to figure out where her sanity had gone in the last minute or so.

"Mistletoe?" The question made her smile, the twinkling smile clearly showing in his eyes very infectious. Touching his cheek and nodding her head toward the arch, she wrapped her arms around his neck again, attempting to feign coldness so as to be closer to him, not that she had ever needed a real reason to do so in the past.

"Mistletoe" she confirmed, a soft chuckle escaping him as he looked up at the seemingly innocent little plant. For his part, it was all Tucker could do not to lean in for more. He knew, however, not to push her emotionally, knew how disastrous the effects would be if she was strained passed her emotional safety net. Slow was fine for him though, so long as he could have her in the end and the best Christmas present of all was that now he knew he stood a chance.

It's a wonderful feeling
Feel the love in the room from the floor to the ceiling
It's that time of year
Christmas time is here

Light crept slowly over the land turning white snow pink and orange as dawn broke over the world, the sun lazily ascending to take its position in the sky, unheeding of the pregnant cloud hovering just at the edge of its sky, waiting to give unto to world their children. Tousle haired, sleepy eyed children smiled at the first feel of the suns warmth on their faces, the light doing nothing to rouse them from their sleep. A tingle of anticipation tinged the air, slowly drawing, one by one, each person from their rest to enjoy the sweet day.

Hair mussed and eyes wincing against the sudden light spilling in through the usually shut blinds, a dark haired boy attempted to rise from beneath his coverlet, the early hour overcoming him so much that he did not realize the day nor could he put together why he was unable to rise. Blinking himself to slow cohesiveness, Danny remembered a young girl's fear of dark places and milky moon light calming the girl, said beauty rested peacefully pillowed on his chest, arms tucked against her and eyes closed against a smile. Gently settling himself back in, the young halfa smiled and tenderly brushed a lock of hair out of the dark girls face, admiring the serene beauty she radiated, the simplistic loveliness she had while she slept. Even if it meant another few hours of waiting before he could see those lilac orbs appear to great the day it was alright, just being able to hold her was enough. Blue eyes caressed the perfect contours of the angular face, the tender smile that was to long in coming and felt the familiar nip of guilt, the gut wrenching feeling of not measuring up. Like so many others, Sam had counted on him and Danny, in so many ways, had let her down. Drawing his eyes from the beautiful creature who proudly called herself his girlfriend, the boy looked up at the sun kissed ceiling, the usual beige now a pale amber in the deep morning. Insecurity, no one was allowed to see the weakness or else how could they trust the teenager with their lives or trust him to do right and fix that breaks caused by the ghost population. No, Danny could never be scared or hurt or insecure, like with Jazz, there had to be a certain amount of protection, a certain mask that kept the world together and life from simply collapsing. If he did not keep that mask up, he would collapse.

Mechanically, a rough, calloused hand ran light threads through his fingers, the thin fibers of hair running like silk across the rough, worn appendages. Life wore down; it had been a tiny guilt trip when the realization that suicide would be a peaceful option would it not destroy the hearts of so many. Seeing Sam lying prone in a hospital bed proved that well enough. Yet, even for all his power, every time he was left to muse alone, left and forgotten by the world merely for being a normal human boy, Danny felt helpless. So much in the world was left to chance, what good would one person do when there was no way to change the hearts and minds of socially obsessed, appearance crazed snobs? No matter how many ghost he took down, how much heart he pushed into everything, the human Danny came up short while the ghost in him took everything he ever wanted. What good was the power without the ability to grow through it?

"Do you always think out loud at…6:30 in the morning?" a sleep drugged voice muttered from somewhere beneath a pile of quilts, the mouth barley moving across the exposed flesh of his chest. Stiffening, blue eyes looked up and met bleary lavender, the curious expression over weighted by the weary confusion seemingly taking over the shimmery irises. Escaping the tangle of sheets and coverlets, a slim hand reached up and lightly caressed the pale cheek of her love, bringing a slight smile to the overly serious face, letting Danny escape the troubles tormenting him for just a moment. Nuzzling the hand as a cat would its masters hand, the young halfa let the love radiating from a simple gesture brighten every aspect of the day, of his life; a tired chuckle escaped the slightly parted lips and with tender grace and gentle love, eased down around his. Heaven, every touch of her hand, the light pressure of their lips brought to Danny a sense of belonging, that this was where he was meant to spend his life, connected to this girl, hearts and hands. Hands cupping the warm cheeks, slowly drawing out a smile in the midst of their tender embrace, the young man gently caressed her lips with his and brushed his tongue along the edge of lips, instantly granted entrance. Tongues competing wildly for control over the kiss, a gentle moan gurgled at the base of the dark girls' throat, her hands grasping gently at a bare chest while a calloused hand drifted down smooth arms and just beneath the hems of a nightshirt. Bare skin met the worn fingers, puffy flesh and hardened scabs twisting the knife deep in the halfa's gut, the hands lovingly caressing every scar marring the smooth skin, pulling the warm, pliable body close. Heartbeats mingling, breathes harsh and rushed, the two stayed like that for sometimes, Danny never wanting to let go.

"It's Christmas," came the breathy, hoarse voice in his ear. The slight detection of a smile her voice spread a smile out on the boys face as she nuzzled his bare chest, sighing in pure contentment. This was beautiful, amazing. Everything was, especially her. Sam was perfect, so amazing to keep going through all this hell and even more come out on top; no matter how long it took complete recovery, the fact that she was blew her boyfriend over. Taking a chance on life when it gave nothing but a hard hand in the past, living with the scars that slowly tore a soul to pieces, it took courage, it took heart, it took wisdom. No matter what Sam saw in the mirror, no matter the denial of what she was, Danny knew she was perfect in every way and that he, in no way, deserved the love of someone so perfect.

"So I'll let you off the hook for now, but as soon as we're alone again your gonna sing like a canary." Two gentle hands tilted his head, eyes locking with lilac speckled orbs that drew in the boy like a spiders web; the dead seriousness was startling. The young Goth never showed such severity, especially not these days, it was almost solely reserved for life or death situations, the moment of cool heads and split second decisions. "Trust goes both ways." The words made Danny wince, the knowledge that, after hearing that sentence, there would be no escaping the conversation, the confession. Neither of which seemed particularly pleasant to the boy, the talking or the confessing, but there was no way he could deny it; the power she held on him was stronger then he cared to admit.

"Come on," The young woman tumbled from the bed jovially, a Cheshire grin and dancing eyes meeting any onlookers. Nothing looked more beautiful then seeing a lady smile in true joy, and the dark girl now looked more radiant then ever before; truly smiles suited her, though she would forever deny it. Hair a frazzled mess and pajamas askew in rather embarrassing places, the possessor of a soft hand gently took its mate and drew out the strong willed being cradled gently in the warmth keeping him from winters deadly chill. Chuckling gently under his breath, the boy allowed himself to be lead by the hyperactive sixteen year old. Trying to tiptoe and avoid waking the other two believably stashed comfortably within their rooms, the two lovers padded silently down the old stairs, giggling quietly halfway to the family room like two children attempt to spy on Santa Claus. Something about the holidays never ceased to bring out the best in them, tomorrow life would settle into the dreary humdrum that encased the dull, grayish world the resided in, yet for one day they enjoyed magic long lost for every other day. Creeping into the world, Danny had to clap a swift hand over his girlfriends mouth and one over his own, eyes tearing up with the resistance hw as putting up not to explode with laughter. Lying quite serenely on the old leather couch, wrapped like infants in an old quilte, Tucker and Jazz slept, her bedridden red head burrowed down into the covering and beneath his chin, the arms tenderly enclosing her into his embrace all the proof Danny needed to know something was beginning to change between the two. Smirking as soon as threats of raucous laughter passed, the halfa released his grip on Sam's hand, sneaking to the tree and withdrawing to gifts before retreating to the living room at the rear of the house, farthest from the dreaming twosome cuddled so tenderly on the Fenton's couch. However much amusement the two troublemakers would get out of watching their friends (and family) squirm, it only took a gentle hand and a momentary lock of eyes to remind Danny why he could not. Moving without barriers, letting it come as it was destined to, loving only as his heart was ready brought him the love of his life; it was only fair those two have the same shot he did.

"Since I know you can never wait to tear through the paper I so painstakingly slaved over just to make sure ever corner was perfect…" He sounded as though she was killing his cat, but the smirk lightly touching the very corners of his face made her laugh and shoved him away playfully, sticking out a pick fleshy tongue and giggling. "Don't tempt me now." She blushed bright red and it was his turn to let out a barking laugh. Here's you gift, I hope you like it…" Tentatively, a pair of trembling hands offered the parcel, finding it all to happily received; small beads of sweat appeared on his brow and for the life of him, Danny couldn't begin to understand why he was so nervous. It was Sam, Sam who he had known for eight years of his life, she never cared much for material things, only the meaning behind them; trying to show her how he felt went beyond personal comfort. It was hard, the depth of what her felt scary and confusing, something that at times the halfa just wanted to push to the edge of his thoughts; what would she do if he had failed doing what he set out to? It seemed perfect at the shop but….

"Oh Danny…" Speaking barley above a whisper, a slight hand drew from an old leather like box a silver locket, styled in an old fashioned technique that gave it the appearance of being centuries old. "It's…beautiful, however did you-?" Two fingers pressed to her lips, the boy doing so thrilled beyond measure that it could make those eyes light up the way they did; lavender met blue and an affectionate smile graced his features, eyes warm and welcoming, wanting nothing more then the ability to look into her eyes forever.

"Open it." Watching expectantly, a pair of azure eyes saw the thin fingers fumble with the small charm, the clasp of it finally releasing with a click, slowly creaking open to reveal its contents. Danny wrung his hands nervously in his lap, watching the blank expression as the beautiful amethysts focused intently on the image inside. Slowly, lazily, a tear crept from the corner of her eyes, trailing haltingly down the smooth flesh of her face, eyes squeezing tight and hand closing gently around the locket. Worried that she was angry, the young halfa attempted to remove the locket from her grasp, crestfallen that Sam had not liked it; to his great surprise, the girls arm drew back quickly and a watery look was spared at the picture before she replied gently, but sternly.

"Your not taking it back I…no one has ever given me something so beautiful…so sweet before. Where in the world did you get that picture I didn't think…"

"Found it.' Technically he was not lying, Danny had found it though the circumstances of his discovery were eerie he had found it. The picture was a sweet one the young man was not aware of having been taken, thought the fact it had was extraordinarily good news; in the image the two were wrapped in each other, long before death and pain, even longer before boyfriends and girlfriends, when innocence reined and no one did anything but dream. Sleeping soundly, Christmas day, wrapped in an old quilt and each other, Sam's head buried in the blankets and tucked under Danny's chin, and his arms holding her tight as a teddy bear, but loose enough to be gentle. It was a sweet moment, the first moment the halfa could admit to being to fall hard, though at eight the word 'love' was only something on a spelling test.

"I…I don't know what to say, thank you so much" Tears began to flow down her cheeks and were tenderly wiped away by a steady head, the every goofy, yet loving smile in place to bring about her own golden grin.

"I wanted to remind you, when you hurting or scared or lonely, that I have always and will always be there to love you, to help you. All you need to do it ask." They shared a brief kiss before a rather decent sized package was thrust into his hands, the owner of the hands that laid it blushing crazily.

"Your turn…It isn't much but I thought…" the words trailed off, leaving Danny even more curious to discover the surprise beneath the wrappings; carefully tugging at the bow and gently unfolding each corner of the paper (much to Sam's impatience) so as not to rip or muss the exquisitely colored wine hued paper. At last, the thin wrapping fell back to reveal an ancient looking tomb, the words

"A lifetime of Friendship, an Eternity of Love''

Running a trembling finger over the surface, Danny carefully peeled back the color only to see the nine year old versions of his best friends smiling back at him, a frowning Jazz pouring over text books, Tucker doing the hula in a grass skirt at their last house party. Page after page inspired a sort of nostalgia, feeling as though with each page he turned he stepped back in time one day farther. Under certain pictures notes appeared in the same careful calligraphy, detailing an amusing joke or funny thought, sometimes even reminding merely of the happiness of that singular moment in time. Although Danny did not cry unless…well….someone was dying (he recalled his crying fits during Sammy's incarceration) the urge to just let go as he slowly thumbed through memories long forgotten. Looking at images long gone, the sights, the sounds, the smells, the feelings flooded back like a movie or an instant reply, reminding and refreshing the dry remains of his soul. Delicately closing the book, the halfa had to draw a calming breath to ease everything into a way he could communicate it; speaking from the heart was harder for him to do, and judging by the expectant and anxious look pouring from Sammy's lavender eyes, he had to say something. Doing an impressive impression of a trout, the boy attempted to force words out, eyes turning down to the book and shooting immediately back up to the anxious eyes waiting for the words he couldn't will to come. Closing his lips, Danny took a deep breath, struggling for the words that lay in his hearts soft depths and finding nothings; running an annoyed hand through his fine black locks, a decision reached his mind. If he couldn't tell her, he would show her in the best way possible.

Arms wrapped around the still-to-thin waist, pulling the squealing girl to his lap, the young woman obviously more than a little startled at the sudden gesture. Carefully drawing her deep into his embrace, Danny inhaled the sweet scent of lavender, enjoying the feel of her body fitting perfectly into the curve of his, the stunning creature curling up into the warmth and comfort no one else (and he was proud of this) was able to give her. So much in him lived for her, continued the fight knowing that if she was safe because of one less ghost then it was worth the fight; Sam had, and continued to be, worth the fight. Seeing the book, the category of memories and laughs, tears and hugs, all the moments in their lives that slowly drew them to each other, moments where they drew together as friends, as family, as lovers. The four of them had been together in the worst times, and the best times but none so much as Sam who, more then once, risked her life to save his and fought against the common belief even when no one else could believe it. Yet, for all the amazing images and the irreplaceable memories, feeling his heart swell at her mere presence, seeing that stunning smile in reaction to something his done, the electric feeling of their lips against the other, knowing that she chose to be his out of all the other boys in the world was a gift that he would never take for granted. A trembling look seemed to enter the lilac irises, the familiar insecurity roaring to life in the darker core, an emotion Danny longed to destroy in Sam, wanting her to feel truly safe around him. Trust would come in time, yet time did not pass swift enough. It stung brutally, knowing that the dark girl still feared his rejection, that she envied others so far below her they should bow. No one would or could ever compare to the creative individual in his arms, and suddenly the words were not so hard to say.

"Only you, Sammy, could come up with a gift like this…these pictures, that message…it is almost as though you knew I needed to look back, to remember. It is perfect, the most…the most amazingly thoughtful gift I've ever gotten." Gently touching her cheek and forcing their eyes to meet, the sight of delight shone in the purple orbs, his words obviously doing as they were supposed to. "And it is far more special because it was you that gave it to me, now I can carry a piece of you, of my friends, my family just as you can carry a piece of me and you…It isn't quite as good as having the real thing though." A soft giggle escaped the girl, slim fingers running through short, slightly raggled locks as his hand caressed her cheek, both sets of eyes smiling jovially. Gently those jewels hid behind curtains of flesh, tender lips moving against each other and tongues running wild on that Christmas morning, a position they remained in for many hours in quiet contentment.

---

She was so comfortable, warmth drawing winters icy chill from her bones and replacing it with safe comfort and downy soft warmth. Light drew across a dreaming face, the suns probing fingers trying to gently ease the sleeper from their rest in order to greet the snow covered Christmas Day, but the frazzled redhead only grumbled unintelligibly and burrowed against the warm, living pillow supporting her heavy head so comfortably. A light chuckle up heaved the pillow beneath the mass of red hair, the owner of the tousled locks grumbling disgruntledly and burrowing her face against the shaking object caressing her hair so gently, smoothing it down her back.

"Wake up Jazzy," a soft, low baritone voice whispered in her ears, his hot breath tickling the shell and sending shivers down her spine. No matter what you thoughts on sex, there was something about a deep, smooth baritone that effected the hormone flow of women; there had to be. Aquamarine eyes barley slits, the tiny pupils moved beneath the lids to focus on the blurry figure still gently cradling her warm body so tenderly, the warm voice and rhythmic hand slowly and gently drawing her from the bliss of sleep to an entirely new wonderland. Eyes opening a touch more, the figure swam into focus and revealed himself to be Tucker Foley, sporting an amused grin and surprisingly twinkling eyes.

"Usually I hate this holiday with a burning passion, but I've never woken up with an angel in my arms before. Besides, we've got presents and I want to open mine so move your cloth covered hinny so we can get to the second best part of Christmas!" Groaning at the chipper way in which the young African American spoke, Jazz attempted to roll over and go to sleep within the soft folds of her oldest and most adored quilt. Another quacking laugh escaped the boys parted lips, the soft folds of flesh pressing gently onto her and serving as a better substitute the coffee, waking the redhead up in record time. Mischief shimmered in the deep chocolate pools, mirth overflowing at the fact something so simple could walk up the usually dead sleeper.

"I guess I'm lucky Santa decided to leave a little present," Pupils traveling toward the ceiling, she followed his gaze and saw a tiny sprig of mistletoe hanging just above the tops of their heads, so innocent in it's appearance yet the worst of the Christmas troublemakers. Aqua eyes rolling at the ridiculous excuse(though she was secretly pleased) Jazz reluctantly crawled out of the warm cocoon of blankets and crawled over to the tree, wrestling two different parcels from the pines spindly grasp before returning to the sofa and crawling into Tucker lap, much to his amusement. Waking up was the girls least favorite part of the day, especially in winter when the heat dropped like a lead weight and everything from the air to the floor chilled bare skin. Tucker was warm and, curling up as close against him as she could, Jazz had to admit that warmth was a fairly decent excuse for cuddling. As though reading her thoughts, the young man tugged the quilt over them and wrapped an arm about her shoulders, massaging the tense appendages gently as everything rearranged for comfort and the two could finally settle in, packages in hand. Inspecting it, Jazz realized she was sure what to expect; past Christmas's brought gift cards and gas station give a ways, yet this holiday felt special, felt different and for the first time there was no way to predict the contents of the package. Gently, her hand was moved to the edge of the package, a small smile encroaching upon the exhaustion as a tingle shot through her and the familiar bubble expanded deep in her stomach. Butterflies and firecrackers seemed to combine to attack her senses jut merely from a touch, a thought, a wish and still it was enough to force roses to bloom in her cheeks.

"Open it. I think you'll like it, at least I hope you'll like it," Thoughtfully, the girl tore the paper making less of a mess then years before but still making no attempts to save the wrappings, knowing that doing so defeated the entire purpose. After fixing the bow carefully on top of her curtain of red hair like a crown ("Your highness!") Jazz found herself staring at a plain white box, nothing in it spectacular or special; taking care not to jostle it should the item be fragile, Jazz curiously began to lift the cover and part the tissue paper. For a moment time froze and the usually calm heart began halted and promptly began to beat a mile a minute; tender fingers fell over a beaded satin cover, tiny mirrors embedded in the cloth reflecting different looks, different emotions as aquamarine eyes took it in. A journal, a diary, something she never had to inclination to spend money on but secretly wondered about; something that could not judge what you told it and listened without complaint. Her fingers felt the smooth cloth cover, a rich red color with dark purple trim and binding, shimmery beads puckering part of cloth. The mirrors were the most beautiful, capturing different parts of her soul as she gazed.

"Look inside," a hot breath exploded on the back of her ear; fingers trembling slightly, unsure of what surprise to expect, she carefully lifted the cover and saw four very familiar people smiling back, eyes dancing with joy and smile so large they nearly overtook their faces. Two years ago, the four of them and her parents visiting the water park; the picture had been taken in front of the biggest fountain there while the four were entirely drenched, resembling drowned rats more so then people. Chuckling slightly, she ran a finger lovingly over the picture, allowing it to run down the inside cover to a message written in careful cursive, the stark purple color drawing her eyes immediately.

Jazz,

There will always be moments of weakness, troubles that are to hard to talk about, memories and pains that just hurt too much to think about. I know this all to well and so do you, I also know that there may be a time you can't find it in yourself to confide in me and though I do not hope that day comes anytime soon I will leave you with this journal just in case.

You are a beautiful girl with so many beautiful thoughts and beautiful dreams that the world, in their bias conforming ways, cannot understand. Here you can express yourself freely and get out all the pain, all the laughter, all the hope that sometimes disappears when faced with day-to-day life. Whether it's a crush you admire from afar, or a particularly bad moment in time you long to obliterate from history, you can put it here and know that someday you can look back and laugh at what was once so important.

I wrote this note as a first entry, a starting point I guess you could say. For every great moment in history there was someone there to start it and I intend to be that person for a very long time, beginning with that day at the bench and continuing on for as long as you will let me.

The picture tells a story that has been long in the making, a reminder that, when you're staring at the face of death and crying in your pain, there is always someone there for you. I leave you now to begin writing down those things deeply secreted away in your heart with a gentle beginning to remind you of everything you have in life and of everyone who has you.

Merry Christmas Jazzy

Tucker Foley.

Unbeknownst to her, tears began to burn down her cheeks, the aqua starker then moments before as the sheer warmth of the words brought a rush of gratitude and affection to the surface, spilling out onto her cheeks as her only means of expression. Gentle fingers covered the trembling ones, shutting the cover before tilting the overcome eyes to meet warm chocolate orbs; Jazz had never gotten such a thoughtful gift, and the knowledge that so much care had been put into make It perfect brought on a fresh wave of tears. Unsure of whether to kiss him or not, the emotionally shy girl decided against it and instead burrowed her face against his chest, listening to his light chuckles and the steady heartbeat just under her ears.

"Thank you so much…It's so sweet…I love it!" she exclaimed softly, pulling away for a moment to smile, hands still firmly clasped over the edges of the stain journal as though wanting to protect the item as well as the love poured into it. Lavender eyes drifted to the carefully dressed up parcel still lying untouched in his lap, shooting up accusingly to meet and innocent expression.

"Now yours. My gift to you can't even begin to compare to…but I think…I hope you like it just the same." It was difficult, waiting patiently for the young man to slowly tear the paper, mindful of bows and ribbons as a single finger tore down the center of the bluish green paper, the silver Snowman smiling merrily back at her as their little head were systematically torn in two. People said Christmas was a kind holiday? A tiny box revealed itself, the anxiety nearly causing the redhead to implode; what if he did not like it? There were surely worse things in the world, but Jazz wanted so much for this year to be different for Tucker, Christmas was the young man's least favorite holiday and it took a little reflection to realize all the fake smiles, estrangement, and false enthusiasm that he implied in the past. For all the talk about being good friends, being so close to each other, the messiness about others hearts slipped between the cracks; Jazz herself fell into darkness, as had Sam before her and Tucker before her, Danny probably swam beneath the all knowing eye. No one was able to admit there pain and very few could detect it, or rather wanted to detect it, in those who meant most; only now, walking with far less jaded eyes, could the young woman see the distant looks, the sad frowns, the rift growing. They were changing and by doing so leaving each other behind, but it seemed no one had the courage to speak up; With Danny and Sam together, with everyone's emotions tearing them up inside and a lifelong friendship on the rocks, what else was she supposed to do but stay quiet? Jazz was not a part of them; it was an entirely different matter to see it from the inside and to see it from the outside. Insiders were believed far more readily.

"What in the world-?" Grasping a long gold chain, a dark hand drew out of the box a heavy gold watch, the spinning sphere twisting and glinting beautifully in the early morning sunlight, reflecting a flushed, mortified face as well as a confused and amazed pair of brown eyes. The pocket watch looked old but shone as though it was brand new, the smooth surface plain, without adornments or texture yet it seemed to move in the cupped hand as each minute ticked by, the second literally running over his hands. Without a word needing to be said, a finger pushed the cover open to reveal an inscription on the inside cover, the very inside of the watch face containing his name as well as a little infinity symbol. Titling it, Tucker's eyes roved over the inscription with a furrowed brow as the words trickled through Jazz's mind, every syllable committed to memory; she had only spent six hours attempting to find the perfect words. In the end, the decision boiled down to a quote; Tucker never said it in plain terms but, like Jazz, the young man feared being inferior, not living up to his potential and letting everyone else down. How could he not when every action seemed to be under constant scrutiny or else forgotten as though it didn't matter; the African American boy did not believe himself successful, the redhead wanted to remind him of exactly what that word meant.

"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." –Ralph Waldo Emerson

Just below the quote, a short letter followed to explain the impromptu words, the meaning behind the redhead's slight insanity. Relief spread through her as well as a warmth that made her toes curl and lips twitch into a gentle smile; the words seemed to please him and for that she was glad. Sometimes the world forgot to remind its children that they were wonderful just the way they were, it took only a single soul to lift the spirits of a falling being; a month before it was Tucker who saved her from the darkness, saved her from herself and now it was her turn to return the favor.

Tucker,

Success is measured by love, and by the heart that gives it; never believe you're anything but a success.

Jazz.

"Jazz…" Tuckers smile widened to the grin they all had, in the past eight years, become so accustomed to spread across his face and lit up every handsome feature, the emotion pouring out of his eyes causing the redheads cheeks to flush again, the red seeping into her hair and making it look as though her entire head was on fire. No matter what they'd done, it was nearly impossible for Jazz to except the feelings that burned for him, the little voices pushing them together, the momentary insanity that led her to lead him to the mistletoe the previous night. Seeing him look at her that way, full of love and appreciation, filled the fragile soul with tremendous fear, sometimes to the point of confused tears or terrified trembling; in the dark night, the tears would fall hard, staining the pillows as aquamarine eyes glared at a watery shadowed ceiling, trying to make sense of the flood of emotions tormenting every waking moment. A hand tenderly cupped her trembling one, that brilliantly goofy smile melting into the very soul it tried to cheer, embedding itself into the inner workings of complex girl. Tucker might never know it, but his very presence shook Jazz's world, the passion, the amusement, the carefree thinking that was him did not quite fit in with her world of books and statistics. His hand gently squeezed hers, and a sharp intake of breath held itself when her sharp eyes fixed on the slowly moving lips. "Thank you." Short, simple, easy. A wide smile stretched across Jazz's face as they continued to snuggle beneath the quilt, admiring their gifts and mulling over the beginning of what promised to be a day truly different from all the rest. The two world, the gratitude he had laden it with echoed around the redheads' mind, making the whirling in her chest ease and settle. It was a simple response and for the redhead, that simplicity was just perfect.

---

Christmas Day passed on as all good days must, the friends enjoying each others company as the sun made its circle around the earth. Carols were sung, mistletoe rehung (after being torn down by and irate Jazz) and in the end, a peaceful rest by the fireside to talk, sip hot coco, and snuggle up to the nearest available person. For just a moment, the world stopped and it seemed the past month had not happened; the friendship was stable and easy, Jazz's part was larger then before but the love and dedication that seemed to falter through out the past weeks came back with a vengeance. Tucker even smiled, enjoying the long awaited time with his friends and, for just a moment, forgetting past pains and hardships while the two love birds, Danny and Sam, laughed at old memories and joined the land of the living only to find their old spots waiting for them. Things had certainly changed, but as the emerald eyes peered through the window at them a gentle smile touched her lips. Hardships would come and hell would in sue, but at least they had this, at least they had these memories to bring them back from the hell they would find themselves stuck in. For a moment, the eyes could not find it to tear from the calming scene but the responsibilities and weight of life crashed down and they had to vanish into the darkness. At least they had each other's love; god knows they were going to need it.

And with the blessings from above
God sends you his love
And everything's ok
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays

End A/n Have I mentioned how incredible bored I get writing this? Lol, I swear I start out dreading every new chapter but I guess everything turns out okay, you guys keep reviewing and reading so I can't be sucking TOO badly :chuckles: Anyway, I hope this lived up to expectations and that it isn't boring you half as much as it's boring me It should get interesting toward the end but currently its getting to the end that's giving me trouble, I ran out of ideas two chapters ago lol. I usually waste half of my writing time wishing I didn't have to write it, then get to like 4am and wish I had more time , IT probably reflects it but hey you all like it and you'd tell me if it sucked wouldn't you? Of course you would. Oh, if you've noticed some of the parts of this chapter seem shorter its because they are (or they were when I was writing this Authors note lol!) I really wanted to capture emotion instead of just writing for length (which is what I've been doing) so we're going to see how that works eh? Tell what chapter you all like the best so far please so I can try to figure out what works best, please and thank you Points to anyone who can figure out what Tucker is up to. I love the irony of parts of this chapter, especially the ones with Tucker alone. Read the lyrics then read the section, its almost funny. I attempted more mushy gushy stuff between Sam and Danny since you all seem to like that, I'm trying to draw out the Tucker Jazz thing ( I have issues writing the sudden 'I love you but I didn't last week' plot bunnies)

I'd also like to warn you that, as School is beginning in like four weeks and I'm going to be running around like a chicken with its head cut off for at least half of them, this fic may temporarily be put on hiatus (or really, really, really slow writing) because I can't write during the day (to many distractions) and I can't write at night during the school year (teachers tend to frown upon sleeping in class…don't know why though….

Oh! If you like Kim Possible (I do ) Check out the new fic I wrote called "Butterfly Kisses" It's a one shot I'm afraid but I want opinions on it (even if I was supposed to be working on this fic) Please and thank you

Anyway! You guys know the deal. Review Review Review! Lets try for 15 reviews this chapter guys!