A / N: 'Tis the season! (Well. 'Twas the season.) And I'm back, with another Futurama Xmas fic! Truly the bounty of the holiday season is without limit.

As before, this is a canon-compliant one shot, Freela, pre-ship. You don't need to have read anything else to get this one.

This is set during the Xmas of season four, after Leela's Homeworld but before Love and Rocket.

Anyway, that's enough yakking from me. Enjoy!


Leela grunts as she hauls the palm tree into position. It's so huge its fronds brush the roof of the hangar. A smaller tree would have been less of a pain in the ass, but she has to admit, there is something impressive about it.

She dusts off her hands and stares up at it, feeling a little festive in spite of herself. Bender probably stole the tree from the ice-rink in Central Park, but Leela can't bring herself to feel too appalled about that. Santa will only shred the tree tops with his sleigh tonight anyway. And if the Professor was fool enough to give Bender money for a tree, he has only himself to blame for the resulting theft of public property.

"Fry -"

Leela sighs.

She sent Fry to get the Xmas tree lights twenty minutes ago, and he hasn't returned. Either he's been crushed by a landslide of boxes, or in typical Fry fashion, he wandered off somewhere and got distracted.

Sighing to herself, she heads to track him down.


She finds him with the rest of the crew, watching an Xmas movie. He's sitting on the box of Xmas decorations, and the coil of lights is wrapped around his shoulder like a bandoleer.

Leela rattles them to get his attention.

"Hey. Whatcha watching?"

"Leela!" Fry lights up, the way he does sometimes when simply reminded of her existence. "Bender, move over. Let Leela sit down."

"Move over yourself, meatsack."

Bender gives an exaggerated yawn, then stretches out and props his footcups on the coffee table.

The couch is fully occupied, with Bender, Hermes and the Professor filling the seats and Amy and Nibbler taking up each arm. Leela makes to lift Nibbler out of the way and move him to the coffee table, but he chitters at her and digs his claws in.

She gives up.

"Here," Fry says, in a sudden fit of gallantry. "You can sit on this box I found! I'll sit on the floor."

"Uh . . . thanks."

Leela sits, and tries to take in what's happening on the TV. It's a bizarre mix of humans and puppets, singing to each other in the middle of the street. In what looks like Victorian England.

She checks the sleeve of the holodisc.

"A Muppet Christmas Carol," she reads. "What's a muppet?"

Fry considers the question.

"Imagine a mop and a puppet had a baby," he says at last. "That's a muppet."

"Uh . . ."

"It's not a Fraggle, but it's not a Gremlin either. You can feed them after midnight, and sometimes they sing! But not like a Mogwai. More like musical theater."

"I see," Leela says, although she doesn't. At all.

"We still have to decorate the tree," she says half-heartedly. There is a chorus of vague agreement - 'yuh-huh's and 'totally's and 'later's - but nobody tears their eyes away from the screen and Leela is reluctant to either. The movie is so bizarre, she can't look away.

They watch for a while and then Hermes says "Say . . . isn't that acclaimed British actor Sir Michael Caine?"

Fry nods.

"Oh, yeah. That's Alfred in Batman, before he was in Batman."

"Huh." Hermes scoops up a mouthful of popcorn, and chews on it along with this revelation. "He's better in this."

Bender cackles as Scrooge tosses a muppet out onto the street on its fuzzy behind.

"Hehe, this guy's alright." He nudges Amy, as a frog muppet appears onscreen. "Hey look, it's your boyfriend!"

"Bender!" Leela snaps, as Amy wails "It is not!" and Fry snickers to himself.

Leela gives him a disapproving shove, and lobs a bauble from the box at Bender.

"Bender, behave. And don't you dare crack wise like that when Kif gets here. This is his first Xmas with Amy and you know how shy he is. We want him to feel welcome."

"What? I thought it was him!"

"I'm serious."

"Hey, so was I. It's not my fault you biological creatures all look the same."

Amy huffs.

"You better not talk like that around him. I don't want Kif to judge me for how species-ist my friends are."

"At least you have friends."

"Kiffy has friends! He has lots of friends! Or, he would have, if he wasn't so crippled by shyness. People just don't appreciate him because he's so sensitive."

"Will you stop squawking?" the Professor interrupts. "Some of us are trying to enjoy a heartwarming tale of entrepreneurial greed!"

The bickering dies down, and Leela is saved the trouble of having to throw another bauble at Bender.

"I'm confused," she says, sometime later. "Is that pig romantically involved with that frog?"

"They're married," Fry informs her.

Leela frowns.

"How can a pig be in love with a frog?"

"It can if it wants!"

"They're not even the same species."

"So? The pig doesn't care."

"They just don't seem very well-matched."

Fry looks offended.

"You don't know that! Maybe the pig seems whiny and annoying, but secretly it's in love with the frog, and just doesn't know how to express its feelings." He becomes more animated, warming to his point. "And maybe the frog seems like it would be really annoyed by that pig, but secretly it's lonely and its life would be no fun without the pig. It's possible! You don't know!"

Leela stares at him, bewildered.

"You're right," she says. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She sniffs at his cup of egg nog. "Are you drunk? It's only three thirty."

"What I don't understand," Bender declares, "is how a pig and a frog are married, and their kids aren't hideous mutant freaks. Ooh! Unless that's why that one kid is deformed. Now I get it!"

"Bender!" Fry shouts.

"What? Now what did I say?"

Fry makes a silent, bug-eyed gesture in Leela's direction, and Bender claps a hand to his head with a clang.

"Oh, right. I forgot you're a mutant now."

Leela sighs.

"Just try not to be such an ass about it in future. And don't mention it in front of Kif. We're trying to keep that on a need-to-know basis, so I won't get deported to live in the sewer."

"A fate worse than death!" Zoidberg intones, from somewhere behind the couch.

"Um, you live in a dumpster," Amy reminds him.

"My own dumpster," Zoidberg crows. "On the surface. I live like a king!"

Leela hurls a bauble at him. There is a gargling wail and a crunching sound as Zoidberg devours it and disappears from view.

They're interrupted by Amy's communicator blipping out a polyphonic version of 'Love Is In The Air'.

"Kiffy!" she gasps. "He's here! I'll go let him in."

Once she's gone, Leela hits pause on the movie to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, listen up," she declares. "Spending the holidays together is a major milestone in any relationship. Amy's our friend, and this is important to her. That means, it's important none of you screw it up."

She levels them all with her most severe look.

"So we're laying down some ground rules. Professor: no wandering around naked."

The old man sputters, flecking them all in denture spit.

"I can't be naked inside my own home? This is an outrage!"

Leela wipes her face.

"Suck it up. You can be naked three hundred sixty four other days in the year. Just not today. Kif is a guest. He doesn't need to see your wrinkled old keyster."

She moves on.

"Hermes: no boring him with bureaucracy talk."

Hermes looks wounded.

"Not even a little friendly advice on his tax return?"

"No." Leela clears her throat. "Bender: no petty theft, no pig-headed comments, and no teasing him."

Bender rolls his optics.

"Gee. Why don't you just put me in a box and nail the lid down on top of me?"

Leela doesn't appreciate the sarcasm, so she pretends to consider it. Just to teach him a lesson.

"Good idea. I'll keep it in mind as a back-up plan."

She raises her voice, so Zoidberg can hear her behind the couch.

"Zoidberg! Try not to overpower him with your horrifying stench. In fact, it's probably best if you stay put behind the coach."

Zoidberg's voice floats up from below, quivering with excitement.

"Suit yourselves! You don't know what you're missing down here. A feast of discarded candy wrappers. Some with candy still inside! And three delicious shiny quarters, all for Zoidberg . . ."

He warbles with delight. The rest of the crew ignores him.

"What about me?" Fry asks.

Leela sighs.

"You stick with me, so I can keep my eye on you. If you do happen to find yourself alone with Kif: don't talk about the time you dated Amy. Don't remind him of the time Amy ran out on him at their baby shower. And don't tell him about that fungus growing in your locker. He doesn't need to hear about that."

"Right. And don't tell him you're a mutant now."

"That either."

"Got it."

"I hope so." Footsteps sound in the hall. "Alright, I think that's everything. Everyone act natural. And be welcoming!"

Fry jumps to his feet, pinwheeling his arms, and shouts "Welcome!" at the top of his voice.

Leela groans and tugs him down again.

"I said act natural," she hisses.

Fry turns puppy dog eyes on her.

"You said be welcoming!"

Leela sighs.

Kif is standing half in Amy's shadow, weighed down by two large suitcases and a carry-on. He's wearing a cheap Xmas sweater, the kind he probably bought two galaxies over at a gas station, somewhere they barely even know what Xmas is. There is a dragon on the front of it.

"Neat sweater," Fry says. "What's with the dragon?"

"It's, uh . . . the Xmas dragon." Kif looks panicked. "Isn't it? The man at the store told me it was an old Earth tradition."

"Uh . . ."

The crew exchange looks.

Amy jumps in first.

"Sure it is, sweetie! The Xmas dragon! We all love the Xmas dragon!"

"Oh, yeah!" Fry rushes to back her up. "He's my favorite! He flies around, uh, roasting reindeer and stuff."

"Old Earth tradition!" Hermes agrees. "That's why Santa had to switch to mechanical reindeer!"

"He's very popular," Leela says, in a tone she hopes is firm enough to dissuade the crew from any further improvising. Poor Kif already looks confused.

"Oh. Well, that's a relief," he says, flustered. "I bought it because I thought it would honor your Chinese heritage, Amy, but the man at the store didn't seem to know much about it, and then I got to Earth and couldn't see anyone else wearing dragons. I was starting to think I'd been duped."

Bender claps him on the back.

"What? A smart guy like you, falling prey to a scammer? Never!" He pulls in close. "Incidentally, you didn't happen to buy Amy any gifts of the jewelry persuasion, did ya? There's a lot of fakes out there. Real sophisticated fakes. You should probably let me take a look them, with my sophisticated robot eyes. So you can make sure you got the real deal, and I can take any trash off your hands and, uh. . . dispose of it. In the incinerator. Yeah."

Kif's eyes widen.

"Well, I . . . that's a very kind offer . . ."

Leela smacks Bender.

"No, it isn't. Bender, stop trying to scam Kif. He just got here."

"Oh. Oh, that was a joke. Of course." Kif looks even more flustered. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm a little nervous. My species doesn't celebrate Xmas, and I don't want to embarrass Amy by not fitting in."

Amy squeezes his arm.

"You could never embarrass me!"

"You're fitting in fine," Fry assures him. "Just relax. It's not like Xmas is a big deal around here anyway. We keep it casual."

"I'm not even wearing underpants," the Professor confides.

"Oh, good," Kif stammers. He visibly relaxes a little. "I like your lights," he tells Fry. "Is that an Xmas tradition too?"

Leela cuts in.

"No. They're supposed to be on the tree. I know - why don't you help us decorate it? We were just getting started."

Kif squeezes Amy's hand.

"Ooh, that sounds like tremendous fun. Amy, dearest, can we?"

Amy smiles.

"Sure! I can fly you up to put the angel on top. That's the best part!"


It's hard not to feel jealous of Kif and Amy, as she watches them decorate the tree. They're just so blissfully in love. It's a little hard to stomach.

Kif perches the star delicately on top of the tree while Amy holds him steady, her arms wrapped securely around him from behind. They float back to ground level on the hoverboard, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

Holding hands.

It's not that she's not supportive, Leela reminds herself. It's not that she's bitter. But jeez, do they have to lay it on so thick?

She tries to catch Fry's eye, hoping to share a grimace with him, but he's having one of his spaced-out moments, where he stares at nothing in particular and looks almost wistful. She would ask what he's thinking about . . . but if past experience is anything to go by, the answer will be something like "If a turtle had to fight a hundred snails, who would win?" Or some strange, rambling non-sequitur about peanut butter.

Amy's communicator dings.

"Schmeez," she groans. "Six missed calls from my parents! I better call them back."

"Oh, yeah, your parents," Fry says. "I forgot you had parents." He frowns. "Hey - how come you never spend Xmas with them?"

Amy shudders.

"It's too stressful. My dad gets totally glorked off about all the property damage from Santa's rampage. He's pretty much unbearable to be around the whole holiday season. So I just wait til Lunar New Year and visit then instead. It works out great, because by then the insurance has paid out and my dad is in a way better mood. He's happy, and my mom's happy, and they're both in the mood to spoil me. It's perfect for everyone!"

The communicator dings again and she rolls her eyes.

"I should get this. Um, hey, Leela . . ."

"Don't worry." Leela is already on her feet, ready to run interference between Kif and the hapless crew. "I'm on it. Hey, Kif, why don't I give you the tour? I can show you our anti-Santa fortifications."


"This is our firewall." Leela gestures to the windows, where the firewall is already crackling in place. "It carries a 50,000 volt charge. In case Santa sends in drones to surveil us while we're sleeping. And this is our diamondium chimney cover. It can withstand earthquakes of up to a seven on the Richter scale, and projectiles traveling at speeds up to Mach 3."

"Gosh."

"And this is Zoidberg's sleeping bag," Fry says helpfully. "He sleeps in front of the chimney."

Leela nods.

"For some reason no-one can figure out, Santa seems to like him. We figure distracting Santa with Zoidberg will buy us crucial seconds, if all other defenses fail and the Kringle-bot breaks through. But that's strictly a last resort."

"Yeah, total last-ditch stuff."

"It won't come to that."

"Almost definitely."

"Anyway." Leela clears her throat. "You and Amy can sleep here, in this corner. We'll help you get settled."

"You can dump your stuff by the plant." Fry looks around. "Hey, where is your stuff anyway?"

"I left it by the television when I came in," Kif says. Leela's face must give her away, because he suddenly looks worried. "Was that wrong?"

Fry catches the look on her face too.

"Relax," he says. "Bender went to mooch free soup at the homeless shelter."

"It's not Bender I'm worried about." Leela turns to Kif. "Please tell me there wasn't anything edible in your bags."

Kif blinks.

"There was some wine from Rigel 7. And a box of gilded truffles I bought for Amy. And -"

Leela takes off at a run, before he can finish his sentence.


They're too late.

"Nibbler!" Leela shouts. "Bad Nibbler! We talked about this!"

Fry and Kif stumble into the room after her, open-mouthed.

Kif's luggage looks like it's been pulled through a hurricane. There are shreds of fabric strewn about the floor. A zipper and a pair of underpants are hanging from the light shade, and red wine is soaking into the rug.

In the middle of it all lies Nibbler, stomach distended, wheezing as he chews half-heartedly on the remains of a stuffed animal.

Leela yanks the thing out of his mouth.

"Kif . . . I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault. Well, it's all Nibbler's fault. He has some behavioral issues. I've been trying to train them out of him but -"

"He's dumb as a rock," Fry supplies.

"Basically. I've been trying to take a firm hand with him, like the book says, but he just goes nuts around food. I usually hide it away from him, or feed him a big steak beforehand, if I know people are coming over."

Fry nudges the wreckage with his foot.

"Hey man, I think he ate your shoes."

Leela winces.

"It's the leather. He likes leather. He thinks it's jerky. Once again, Kif . . . I am so sorry."

"Those were all my presents for Amy." Kif sounds dazed. He gestures at the ripped-up ball of pinkish fluff in Leela's hand. "That was a Lovey Bear. They're her favorite. She doesn't have a pink one yet. I was going to surprise her with it."

He sits down hard on the couch, on the brink of tears.

It's terrible to see.

Fry is sniffing at the bear.

"Strawberry scented," he tells Leela in a stage whisper. "It never stood a chance."

Leela takes a deep breath.

"We can fix this," she declares. "We'll buy Amy a new bear. We'll replace all her presents. I'll pay for everything." She grabs her purse. "You tidy up here and we'll fix everything else. Amy will never even know this happened. Come on, Fry."

"We can get you new underwear too, if you want," Fry offers.

"Now, Fry."

Leela hooks him by the elbow and drags him after her, before he can offer to loan Kif a pair from his locker.


"It's a little ironic, don't you think? You were so worried one of us would ruin Xmas for Kif and Amy, and then it turns out it was you." Fry pauses, thinking it over. "Or, is that ironic? I don't remember how irony works."

Leela ignores him.

Fry starts humming to himself.

"It's like rai-ai-ain on your wedding day . . . like a free ride when you already paid . . . something something old guy . . . something something spoons . . . Maybe it is ironic."

Leela crams a box of truffles and a bottle of expensive perfume into her basket. She stuffs two Lovey Bears - a pink one and a green one - into Fry's arms.

"You must feel terrible," Fry says. "Hey, this one smells like apple. Or maybe it's kiwi fruit. No, wait . . . it's apple. Definitely apple. Unless it's watermelon. It could be watermelon."

"Fry, focus."

"On what? You already got everything. Now you just have to get it delivered and we did it! We saved Xmas! We should get drunk and celebrate."

He winks at her.

Leela sighs.

"I'm not getting drunk with you."

"Because Bender's not here and it would be like a date?"

"What?"

They've reached the cash register and Leela is hunting for her credit card. She doesn't even want to think about how far Amy's presents are going to send her into the red. Amy has expensive taste.

"No," she snaps. "Because it's too early. Now give me those bears."

She pays without looking at the total.

Express delivery costs her even more, but it's the fastest option. The store offers drone delivery. She sends Kif the code to disable the firewall and finally exhales.

Fry is watching her. He's also being quiet, which is unlike him.

Leela only notices when he suddenly says, "We should do something."

"We are doing something," she points out. "We're going home."

"You know what I mean! It's Christmas. We should do something Christmas-sy."

"Xmas-sy."

"Whatever. We should go ice-skating. Or heckle some carol singers. Or -"

Ice-skating.

Leela has a brief mental image of herself, spinning in slow motion on the ice. Hand in hand with Fry.

In the image he's smiling at her, so close she can count the eyelashes on his face.

He leans in, touching her cheek . . . and Leela clamps down on the daydream hard.

"Or we could get hot chocolate," she says instead. She checks her watch. "We should have time for that."

Fry considers.

"Well . . okay. But it better be the most Xmas-sy hot chocolate you ever saw!"


Ten minutes later they're sitting outside a coffee shop and a barista is setting a hot chocolate festive enough to satisfy even Fry in front of each of them.

There is whipped cream, and marshmallows, and a candy cane perched on each mug. There is edible gold dust. There is a cinnamon stick. There are gingerbread reindeer. Leela is surprised the whole confection doesn't slide right off the top of the drink.

Sure enough, when she picks out the candy cane it triggers an avalanche of cream. She sops up the worst of the spill with her napkin and takes a sip.

It's as cloyingly sweet as she expected, but for once Leela finds she doesn't mind.

"This isn't bad, actually," she hears herself say.

Fry grins at her.

"See? I told you." He contemplates his own hot chocolate, before eventually deciding to attack it with a spoon. "It's good! Later we can find Bender and go heckling. But this is fun, just you and me."

Leela smiles as Fry's reindeer starts sinking beneath the cream. She hooks it out with her candy cane.

"It's nice," she agrees.

It is nice. It's nice to have Fry all to herself on Xmas. As fond as she is of Bender and the crew, Xmas feels like a holiday only Fry really understands.

They make small talk about the Professor's plans for prune-basted turkey, and Fry explains the ending of the Muppet movie to her, including his best approximation of the musical number - waving his hands so energetically the cinnamon stick flies out of his grip and hits a blobby green alien sitting two seats over. It sinks into his slime, as they watch.

"Whoops. Uh . . . merry Xmas?" Fry calls out, and Leela uses her hot chocolate to cover her smile.

The alien turns his back, huffing, and Fry sobers.

He takes a sip of his drink and sets it down again, fidgeting with his napkin.

"Hey, Leela? Can I ask you something?"

That sounds like a loaded question. Leela tries to smooth away her sudden tension and stay casual.

It's probably just the turtle and the snails again.

"Sure," she says, guardedly.

"How come you're not spending Xmas with your parents?"

Leela blinks. It's the obvious question, but for some reason she wasn't expecting it.

"I mean, you have a family now," Fry continues. "If I had my parents back, I'd be all about that family time. Maybe it's none of my business, but I thought you guys would be all . . . making up for lost memories and stuff. What happened?"

Leela frowns.

"Nothing happened. That is . . . I . . . Xmas isn't really a holiday, down there. Santa passes over them, and they don't have a lot of the same traditions we do on the surface. It's just not a thing, for them."

It's Fry's turn to frown.

"So you didn't want to go there for Xmas?"

"They didn't ask me." Leela feels her face heat. "I didn't expect them to," she corrects, before he can get the wrong idea. "I wouldn't want them to feel pressured to celebrate a surface holiday. And I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't need them to hold me and tell me I'll be safe, I don't need . . . whatever else it is families do on Xmas."

Fry says nothing. He just stares at her, as the cream starts melting into his drink.

"It must be weird sometimes," he says at last. "With your parents. I mean . . . it's like when I was a kid, sometimes I would see pictures of my parents from before I was born, and it would be all, who are you? I don't know you. But you never knew your parents to begin with. It must be weird, getting to know them like they're strangers. But they're your parents. But they're strangers. Is it weird? I bet it's weird."

Leela swallows.

As rambling and incoherent as Fry can be, he has a way, sometimes, of cutting to the core of what she's feeling.

"It is weird. Sometimes," she says quietly.

The truth is, her relationship with her parents isn't what she thought it would be. She's starting to realize that her childish dream of finding them . . . ended with finding them. She had been so convinced that everything would snap into place the day she finally found her parents. And it's true - it was a wonderful day, and a wonderful feeling. But it turns out three decades of abandonment don't wipe clean in a parent's loving embrace. She still feels like the same orphan eyeball - oddball - she did before.

"I thought it would be easier," she admits. "It felt so good, to finally meet my parents. To know where I came from. To know they really did love me when they left me behind all those years ago. I spent my whole life searching for those answers, and now I have them. But . . ."

The street has emptied around them. Leela is starting to feel lonely again.

"I'm not sure I know how to be a daughter," she explains. "It should come naturally, but it feels . . . I don't know. Awkward, I guess."

Fry fidgets with his candy cane.

"Are you afraid you'll say the wrong thing and they'll stop loving you?"

Leela winces.

"No. I don't think so."

"Are you afraid they liked it better before you knew the truth, and now you can never go back to the way it used to be?"

Leela hesitates. Sometimes she does wonder about that. Her parents sacrificed so much to send her to the surface. She'd hate to think she was ever a disappointment to them. But the more they get to know her, the more inevitable it is she will disappoint them. She has a crummy apartment, a low-paying job, and her personal life is pretty much non-existent. It can't be the future they dreamed of for her, as much as she tries to dress it all up in conversation.

What happens when they figure that out?

"I'm not sure I even know what I'm afraid of," she admits. "This is all so new to me. There's no roadmap for finding your parents in your thirties. I love them, and I know they love me. But I don't always know how to be around them, or what to expect."

Fry nods.

"And you don't wanna get it wrong."

The candy cane is turning sticky in his hand. He puts it down and tries to wipe off his fingers. They stick to his napkin, and he gets flustered.

"Because - they're the most important thing in the world to you. Because you love them."

"Pretty much."

Leela pulls out her blaster and twists it to the lowest possible setting. She takes Fry's hand, and burns off the top layer of stickiness for him.

"Then maybe - maybe you should just be, and see what happens," Fry blurts. "Maybe all you need is time, to figure it out."

Leela blinks. This is a surprisingly mature perspective, for Fry.

She squeezes his hand - now warm, and blessedly non-sticky.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but . . . maybe you're right. Thanks, Fry."

Fry turns pink.

"Anytime."


They're the last ones to leave the coffee shop. Shutters start coming down around them, as they walk up the empty street.

"We're cutting it close to get back to Planet Express," Leela says anxiously.

Fry doesn't seem bothered.

"We'll be fine."

"I don't know."

Leela eyes the nearest transport tube, which has been sealed in protective bubble wrap ahead of Santa's rampage. The bus stopped running an hour ago.

"We'll be fine! We'll stop by the homeless shelter and get Bender, and then we can take that shortcut by Elzar's. You know, through the alley. Bender and me flee through there all the time."

"I hope you're right."

They're spared the trouble of having to track Bender down. The homeless shelter is barely in sight when the front door flies open and the robot comes sailing through the air, landing on the sidewalk in front of them in a shower of sparks.

"AND STAY OUT!" a voice shouts, as the door slams shut again.

"You can't kick me out, I was going already!" Bender yells back. "And I stole your tureen! GOOD LUCK HAVING XMAS WITH NO TUREEN!"

He pulls a silver soup tureen out of his compartment and brandishes it, slopping minestrone all over the ground.

He chuckles to himself.

"Hehe. I showed them. Hey, look, it's my two favorite losers. What are you doing here?"

Leela hauls him to his feet.

"It's nice to see you too," she says. "We came to take you home. Curfew's nearly upon us and whatever scam you're pulling on these poor innocent robots, you're not actually homeless."

Bender shrugs.

"Eh, I was done here anyway. Lead the way, meatsacks."

Fry fills Bender in on the Nibbler disaster as they walk.

"I don't see the problem," he scoffs. "You had Nibbler, you had the fluff . . . I don't see why you didn't just stuff him. I bet Amy wouldn't even know the difference."

Leela sniffs.

"I'm not killing and stuffing my pet because he got a little out of control."

"Why not? Fry's pet is a big ol' lump of rock and he still loves it."

"Yeah, but it's not the same," Fry points out. "I liked Seymour better when he was alive. Now, when I pet him, it pumices my hands."

"So? Nibbler's soft. And if you stuffed him full of fluff, he'd probably be even cuddlier."

Leela glares.

"I said no, Bender."

"Suit yourself. All I'm saying is, the perfect solution was right there."

"Uh-oh," Fry murmurs.

It takes Leela and Bender a minute to stop bickering and see what he's reacting to.

The NNYPD have cordoned off the street.

Leela runs to the barricade.

"What happened?"

Smitty - leaning against the barricade, nose dripping in the cold - sniffs at her.

"Burst water main."

"Please, you have to let us through. Santa touches down in T-minus ten, and this is the only route that'll get us to safety on time!"

"Lady, that's not my problem."

Bender rolls up one metal sleeve.

"I could make it your problem."

URL steps forward from behind the police cruiser, his shadow falling over them.

"Now I don't know you," he says smoothly. "But I do know there's no way you cats just threatened violence against my fellow officer here. Isn't that right?"

Bender weighs up the fight, realizes there is no way in hell he could take a slab of iron like URL, and backs down with bad grace.

"That's right," he mumbles meekly.

"Aw, yeah. You citizens best be on your way then."

"Yes, officer. Thank you, officer. Pig!" Bender mutters under his breath, as Fry and Leela drag him away. "I could take him! I could bend him into strips of bacon! Yeah, you better run . . . squeal, piggy, squeal!"

"Bender, shut up!" Leela snaps. "We don't have time for this. We need to run!"


They almost make it. They're three blocks away when the klaxons go off and the explosives start to fall.

Leela skids to a halt, horrified.

"We missed it! We're locked out!"

"Oof!"

Fry runs into her and falls over. Bender trips over him and follows suit, leaving them both in a panting heap on the ground.

Fry is clutching at a stitch in his side.

"Do something!" he gasps. "Shoot something!"

"Save us!" Bender agrees.

"There's nothing I can do!" Leela cries. "Oh, god, we're trapped out here! Like fish in a barrel! In a room with Zoidberg! We're doomed!"

A dumpster bursts into flames beside them.

"This is it!" Bender wails. "This is the end! For you guys, at least. For me it's more of an inconvenience. Farewell, sweet fleshbags!"

"I can't die yet!" Fry says. "I'm too young! There's too much TV I haven't watched!"

A streetlight explodes above him, and he yelps.

"Leela!" a voice cries. "Leela, sweetheart! Down here! Hurry!"

It's coming from a sewer grating. Leela stares in disbelief at the familiar face - the purple hair, the single eye, the vertically-positioned mouth.

"Dad?"

"Quick! Get down here! Bring your friends!"


They scramble through the grating, miss the ladder and fall six feet to the tunnel floor, landing in an undignified heap. Leela pushes Fry's foot out of her face, and Bender's antenna out of her stomach, and staggers to her feet.

Her father clambers down, smiling uncertainly at her.

"Whew. That was close."

"Dad?" Leela shakes her head, still unable to comprehend what she's seeing. "You saved us!"

"I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no. Not at all."

They're standing in front of each other now, close enough to touch. Should they hug? Her father isn't making any moves in that direction, and the longer they stand here making small talk, the more it feels like the moment for hugging has passed.

This is the problem. Her relationship with her parents just isn't intuitive. It's as if there's a script other people learn in childhood, that tells them when hugging is appropriate and how long it should last. But Leela never got that script.

She wants to hug him, but she's a grown woman. It might just seem clingy.

Luckily she's with Fry, a man so casual he greets bank tellers with the phrase "yo, homes".

He's already getting to his feet, apparently unfazed.

"Oh, hey, Leela's dad," he says. "Man, I thought we were toast. You saved our butts! It was incredible. Leela must get her saving-people skills from you."

Morris reddens.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I don't think I could ever be as impressive as Leela. Maybe she gets it from her mother."

Bender dusts himself off and lights a cigar.

"You saved me too," he says, puffing on it, "but you'll notice I don't care."

"I understand." Morris picks up a lantern he left on the floor. "Why don't you all come with me? You could stay with us until it's safe to go back to the surface."

Leela hesitates. She has never stayed with her parents before. It seems like kind of a big step to just stumble into.

"I don't know," she says nervously. "We wouldn't want to impose. And Fry and Bender really aren't the best house guests."

"It's no trouble. We'd be happy to have you."

Fry only shrugs.

"I don't care where we go, as long as Santa can't get us."

"Well, in that case . . ." Leela tries a smile. "We'd be happy to accept."


Munda is delighted to see them. Even Bender - which is strange, considering he spent so much time polluting her home. She seems to have decided that any friend of Leela's is a friend of hers.

Maybe it's a family thing, Leela thinks. Maybe that's how families work.

Still, Munda doesn't seem surprised to see them, even when Fry reenacts her husband's role in their thrilling escape.

Fry does this a lot. Reenacts things. Leela can only assume it's how his memory works - replays itself in short bursts, with the action and emotions dialled up to full intensity, like a movie. It makes her think of the holophonor, sometimes. And wonder, all over again, if the worms were carrying Fry to heights he could never achieve on his own, or if they had helped him to express something he's always reaching for, and just can't recreate outside his own head. It's a question that keeps her up at night, sometimes.

"And then Leela's dad was there, I don't know what he was doing there, but he appeared out of nowhere in the sewer and -"

"Wait a second." Leela holds up a hand, interrupting Fry mid-flow. "Dad . . . what were you doing down there? Were you following me? Do you still do that?"

Her parents exchange nervous looks.

"Well . . . sometimes," her father says awkwardly. "Just to keep an eye on you."

"Where?"

"Oh, you know." Morris waves a hand. "Here, there. Everywhere. But not all the time."

"Not when you go to space," her mother says. "And not when you're in the shower. That would be creepy."

"But . . . you're watching me at home? At work? On dates?"

Her father blinks.

"When do you ever go on dates?"

"Morris!" Her mother whips out a tentacle, to smack him on the arm. "We talked about this! Leela's love life is her business. She doesn't need you fixing her up with people."

"Oh my god." Leela sits down heavily on the couch. "I can't believe this. How long has this been going on for?"

Her parents look puzzled.

"Most of your life."

"It's how we keep tabs on you. We like to feel involved."

"By spying on me?"

"Well, when you put it like that . . ."

"It's not spying," her mother argues. "It's just a little loving surveillance. Like a nanny cam. Parents do it all the time."

"I'm thirty years old!"

"I can see how we may have gone overboard."

Leela groans, burying her face in her hands.

"Alright," she says, muffled. "I need to know what I'm dealing with here. Tell me - how much did you stalk me today?"

"Well." Munda's tentacles twine in her lap, as she thinks it over. "I took the first shift, and watched you as you put up that lovely tree. Then you watched a very enjoyable movie, and your friend Kif came over! Then it was time to make dinner, so I handed off to your father."

"I watched you and Fry all afternoon," Morris says helpfully. "I like Fry."

Leela frowns.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Morris glances at his wife.

"Nothing! I just thought you had a nice afternoon together, is all."

"Dad, can we focus? This - this stalking me, watching me, whatever you want to call it - it has to stop."

"But -"

"I'm glad you were there to save us today. But it can't go on. It's weirding me out."

Her parents sigh.

"We understand."

"I guess it's just a habit we fell into," her mother says. "For so long, we had to feel connected to you from afar. It was comforting, being able to watch over you. It made us feel like we were being real parents."

Leela swallows.

"I know, but . . . did you ever think of just picking up the phone instead?"

"We wouldn't want to bother you. You're always so busy."

"I'm not too busy for you." Leela blinks back tears. "You could call, if you wanted."

"We didn't know that was something you wanted," her mother says.

Before Leela can reply, her father lays a hand over her mother's tentacle. He glances at Fry.

"We didn't know," he agrees. "But maybe we should have asked."


Leela has a bedroom. It's more of a shrine, really, but there is a bed in it.

She tries not to feel like a museum exhibit as she changes into borrowed pajamas and makes up a bed of blankets for Fry on the floor. Bender has already staked a claim on the couch.

"Wow," Fry says. He gives a low whistle as he looks around. "This is creepy. Like a room full of dolls."

"I know." Leela shudders. Everywhere she turns, she makes eye contact with herself. "But I'm trying not to hurt my parents' feelings."

"It's like you're all around me. Watching me with a thousand eyes."

"I know. I'm sorry. You can sleep in with Bender if you want."

Fry stops doing ghost fingers and lets his hands fall.

"No," he says quickly. "It's Xmas." He looks sheepish. "I know Santa can't get us down here, but I feel safer with you."

Leela nods. The strange truth is that she feels safer with Fry on Xmas. Or at least, more comforted.

It doesn't make sense - it's not as if he could do a thing to defend her - but his presence is comforting, in a way she can't explain.

She pulls the blankets up and tries to get comfortable. Her eighteen year old face in braces stares back at her, three inches away from her nose. She turns over and is confronted by herself shopping for groceries at age twenty five.

She ends up zeroing in on Fry, just so she can look at a face that's not hers.

His gaze is on her. Apparently he's having the same thought.

"It's like a hall of mirrors," he says. "If I don't keep staring right at you, I get confused."

"Maybe we should turn out the lights."

"Good idea."

The walls glow faintly green, even with the lights off, but it's not as disturbing as before.

It's at this point that Leela finally notices what must have been right in front of her all afternoon.

"Uh, Fry?"

"What?"

Leela gestures at the Xmas lights wrapped around his torso. In the dark, she can actually see the little LED lights glimmering on and off.

"Have you been wearing those all day?"

Fry looks down at himself in surprise.

"Hey, what do you know? I guess so." He unravels a strand, and peers at it with interest. "I meant to put them on the tree. I must've got distracted."

A small, uncharitable part of Leela thinks how unromantic the Planet Express tree will look tonight without any lights. Kif and Amy will probably be too wrapped up in each other even to notice, but it makes her feel a little less jealous.

Not that she is jealous, of course. She's just . . .

Xmas is a lonely time of year. That's all.

"This is fun," Fry says, apropos of nothing.

"Fun?" Leela echoes.

"Yeah!" He gestures between them. "It's like a sleepover. Like when me and Yancy were kids, and we used to camp out in front of the chimney on Christmas Eve, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus."

"Did you?"

Fry shakes his head.

"Nah. We always fell asleep. We were too excited. Or maybe it was the egg-nog. One time I did wake up and see my dad drinking Santa's Christmas beer though."

Leela snuggles into her blankets and fights back a yawn.

"So even in your more primitive time, you tried to appease Santa with booze. It's nice, that the tradition carried forward."

"Even though Santa's a homicidal robot now."

"Did you also keep a crowbar by the chimney? And some rope to hog-tie him if you caught him?"

Fry laughs.

"No! Santa wasn't real back then. It was just your parents pretending."

Leela frowns.

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. It was just what people did. I guess because it made you feel like . . . like there was magic in the world. Like anything you could imagine could be real."

Well, that explains a lot about Fry. The boundaries between reality and magical thinking have never been hard and fast for him. His parents probably shouldn't have encouraged him in it. Still . . .

"That's sweet," Leela murmurs.

They fall asleep soon after that. Leela is woken a couple of hours later by Fry moving around, but it turns out he's just looking for the bathroom. She points him in the right direction and falls back asleep.


The next thing she knows, Fry is shaking her awake.

"Leela! Leela! Wake up!"

She sits up with a jolt.

"What? What is it? Did Santa discover the sewer network? Are my parents kicking us out?"

"No! It's Xmas!" Fry pulls back, grinning. "Merry Xmas!"

He's wearing a wonky red knitted Santa hat, and holding another one out to her.

Leela takes it, mystified.

"Did my mom knit this?"

Fry watches her position it over her hair, smiling.

"Huh? Oh, no. She was too busy. I had Bender make these. Did you know he has a knit and purl setting?"

"Bender knits?"

"Sure. Like I told him - it's just bending wool. C'mon!"

He takes her hand and drags her out of bed, down the hall to -

"Merry Xmas, Leela!"

Her parents stand together beaming, in the middle of -

"Oh! It's beautiful," Leela gasps.

Well. It's beautiful by the standards of the sewer. But standing here - now - Leela thinks she has never seen anything so wonderful.

They've decorated. The floor is covered in fake snow. Curls of white polystyrene and wadded-up newspaper squeak under her feet, and there is a tree in the corner. It's an old brown one someone must have thrown out last year, the leaves all molted off, but they've covered it in red yarn and foil snowflakes, and Fry's Xmas lights twinkling red and green in the half-light. There is holly - real holly! - above the fireplace and mistletoe nailed up above the door.

Fry's old record player is crackling out ancient Christmas music.

"All these things and more, baby, that's what Christmas means to me . . ."

Always Stevie Wonder with you, Leela thinks, and smiles, for some reason she can't place.

Her parents swoop in and hug her.

"Do you like it?" her mom says. "Here, have a cookie."

She proffers a plate of sugar cookies. Fry must have had a hand in frosting them, because they're all shaped like old-fashioned pine trees and reindeer. Though her mom seems to have thrown in some pigs and frogs too. Apparently she really liked the Muppet movie.

Morris squeezes her shoulder.

"We don't know much about Xmas," he says. "But your friend Fry walked us through it. Did we do a good job?"

Leela hugs him back. For once she doesn't need to agonize over it - in this moment it feels like the easiest, most natural thing to do.

"Dad, it's wonderful. This is the nicest thing anyone's done for me since . . . I don't know when! It's perfect."

Munda smiles.

"Well, that's all we wanted, sweetie. To see you happy. Now have another cookie. You're too thin."

"Mom!"

"What? You are! You can't keep living on those freezer meals. I'm not convinced they're nutritious."

"Mom," Leela groans again. But she takes another cookie anyway. "They really are good," she says, through her first bite.

Fry leans forward and snags one off the plate.

"Tell me about it," he winks. "Ooh! I almost forgot! I have a present for you!"

"You do?" Leela feels a sudden flash of guilt. "I have a present for you too, but it's on the surface."

Fry waves her away.

"It's okay. My present is different. I'll show you."

He drags her to the couch and sits her down, then pulls a wrapped present from behind it.

"Ta-da! I bought it last night from Bender."

"At a knockdown price," Bender interrupts. "I might add. I was feeling generous. Call it an Xmas miracle."

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, open it!"

Leela peels back the paper.

"It's . . . a soup tureen." The soup tureen Bender stole from the homeless shelter, more specifically. "I . . . thank you, Fry. That was very generous."

Lord knows what she'll do with it, but it's the thought that counts. And it really was very sweet of him. He even cleaned out the soup.

"No, no." Fry shakes his head. "I got it for you! Because. It's Xmas. And your parents are here. So -"

It hits Leela like a light switch.

"Oh! Of course! Fry, I could kiss you!"

She hurriedly tapes down the paper again, and turns to her parents, holding out the present.

"Mom, Dad . . . Happy Xmas!"

Her mother removes the paper and folds it neatly, while her father holds up the soup tureen and whistles.

"A real silver soup pot! Leela, honey, this is fantastic! When we whip this baby out at dinner parties, our friends will be green with envy! Greener than usual, I mean."

"It's so extravagant!" Munda says admiringly. "Really, sweetie, you shouldn't have. All we have is this ugly sweater I knitted for you. Your friend Fry insisted it had to be ugly."

"It's tradition!"

Leela unfurls her sweater, and laughs.

It's a perfect representation of the street scene from Fry's muppet movie, with snow falling overhead and a great Xmas dragon rearing in the sky, breathing gouts of flame over Robot Santa and his mechanical reindeer.

"See?" Fry's smile is dazzling. "Isn't it the best thing you ever saw? I told your mom you'd love it!"

To her amazement, Leela realizes she's fighting off tears. Tears of happiness.

She pulls the sweater over her head to hide them.

"I do love it. I love all of this. Thank you all, so much. I feel like the luckiest person in the world!"

Bender snorts.

"You do know we're in a sewer, right? I don't use the phrase 'craphole' lightly but this place -"

"Ow! My funny bone!"

Fry has just made the mistake of trying to elbow Bender. Bender sniggers.

"That's what you get for defending Leela's honor."

It doesn't matter. Today, even this petty bickering makes Leela feel fond.

"I don't care," she declares. "I'm really happy right now, and nothing even you say can take that away from me, Bender." She perches her Xmas hat on top of his head. "You'll just have to try harder. Or give it up and have a cookie instead. It's Xmas. Don't be such a grouch."

Bender squints at her.

"What's in these cookies? Crack?" He considers. "I'll take two."


The rest of the day passes in a blur of happy memories. Her mom makes Xmas dinner - or a version of it, anyway, with something stuffed and dressed so artfully the snout and wings look almost charming. They play a game of Yahtzee someone flushed down the toilet, and dance to Fry's goofy old fashioned Xmas music.

Her parents goof around by the mistletoe, her father dipping her mother and kissing her like something out of an old Hollywood movie, while Munda sputters with laughter and complains about her back.

It's perfect. A perfect day.

It takes Fry a long time to get anywhere near the mistletoe. He seems to be avoiding it, until he stumbles into Bender and Bender shoves him just under the lintel.

Leela smiles.

"Hey, there."

"Hey. Uh . . ."

Fry looks up, and seems to be weighing his options. He's about to move away again when Leela puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she says. "I know all this was mostly your idea."

"It was nothing. No big deal." Fry looks flustered. It's probably the mistletoe. "I just . . . it was Xmas, and I wanted you to be happy," he says, and he's so distracted it must be true.

Maybe that's what makes Leela do it. She pulls him in by the front of his sweater and kisses him.

Just once.

Because it's Xmas. Because they're under the mistletoe, and there are times when they both know the normal rules of play don't apply.

And if it goes on a little longer than it should . . . who's counting?

Leela pulls away first, because it would be wrong if she didn't. But she lets herself lock away the look on Fry's face, before he opens his eyes.

"Merry Xmas, Fry."

Fry smiles.

"Merry Xmas, Leela," he whispers back.