A/N: For ViridianVenus who asked for Gosalyn and Drake's first Christmas together. I hope you like it! Song for the title is "Santa Claus Came In The Spring" by Benny Goodman.

Gosalyn won the Twelve Days gift-off. Not only because she had the even days (though that was easily 90% of it), but because she was a pretty good gift giver.

Which Drake wouldn't have been able to guess during their very first Christmas together.

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It had been a struggle, but he'd done it. Scraped up enough money to get the hockey equipment Gosalyn had been eyeing, the newest Wiffle Boy game, and a few pairs of socks because it really wasn't Christmas if you didn't get a pair of hideous socks. These were more practical to go along with her hokey gear, but this was his first Christmas as a parent, so sue him.

He hadn't expected it be so hard to put Christmas together. Or so expensive. But he had started from zero. Never liking Christmas, Drake hadn't bothered to buy any decorations for himself. And putting up anything in the Tower would have alerted Darkwing's enemies to the location of his hideout, which was the exact opposite of a secret hideout, thank you very much.

But now he had a house and a sidekick and a mortgage and a child. And she was expecting Christmas to be… well, Christmasy. Which went against all of Drake's baser instincts.

Gosalyn deserved the magic of Christmas, though. Whatever magic he could scrounge up.

He tried hard not to think about the eight Christmases she'd had before meeting him because that's when his anxiety would kick in, telling him he had to live up to the (literal) ghosts of Christmas past.

Decorations had been step one, which Launchpad had thankfully provided this year.

Baking was step two. And Drake hadn't ever really been great at that, but needs must. Out came Grandma Lulu's cookie recipe and four batches of failed cookies later, he had a dozen that were only half-burnt. His kitchen may need a remodel after all Drake had put it through; Christmas took no prisoners.

Step three was Christmas shopping, which he'd just managed to finish that morning.

And now he'd crossed all the wintry bridges. Completed the customary holiday necessities and had nothing more to do but sit out the rest of the season and try to survive.

But those pesky ghosts cropped up just as he thought he might have a handle on this whole "Christmas" thing.

"Hey, Dad," Gosalyn said, bounding into the kitchen where Drake was trying to coax a lunch out of his stove. "When are we gonna go around the neighborhood and see all the Christmas decorations, Dad?"

A few weeks ago, Gosalyn had finally started calling him "dad." And now she used it more than necessary, as if afraid he might forget that's who he was. As if he could ever forget that with this small firecracker of a kid constantly underfoot.

He reveled in having her around. And in being called "dad."

But he'd be lying if he said the term didn't completely terrify him. It was such a complicated thing, this dad business. It's who he was and he was happy that she was willing to call him that, and yet.

The responsibility.

It weighed heavily on him sometimes.

Okay.

All the time.

Every waking moment.

It was the most stressful thing he'd ever done and he had gone up against Taurus Bulba a few months ago.

"Did you want to go look at lights?" Drake asked, stirring the soup and wondering why it wasn't boiling yet.

"Oh, uh…." The change in Gosalyn's energy was as apparent as the sun suddenly disappearing. Drake glanced down, finding her shuffling her feet and wringing her hands. "O-only if you want to. I… I'm okay doing whatever."

His new parental instincts were setting off alarm bells in his head, alerting him to something being wrong.

Setting down the ladle (until recently, he thought it was just called "a big spoon" but no. It had a name. Ladle. God, he was so out of his element), Drake faced Gosalyn fully. "We can go look at lights," he offered, trying to keep his tone light. Noncommittal.

"I-I don't wanna ruin anything you have planned," Gosalyn insisted, looking up at him. "It's just…." She dropped her gaze. "It's nothing."

Drake knelt before her, wondering if he should take her hands to calm her down or if it was better to leave her alone. He was hopeless at this.

"Honestly, kiddo," Drake said with a chuckle, "I haven't planned much of anything."

When Gosalyn still wouldn't meet his eyes, those fingers wringing one another for dear life, Drake chose a different tactic.

Reaching forward, he gently took her hands in his. "Why don't you tell me what's going on."

Gosalyn shook her head. "It's stupid."

"I'd like to hear." Drake cradled both her small hands in one of his and used his now freed hand to tilt her face up until their eyes met. "If you want to tell me."

She sighed before explaining, "I used to go see the Christmas decorations around the neighborhood with Grandpa. Every year. I thought it was something everyone did, but you hadn't said anything about it, so I— I told you it was dumb." She lowered her eyes once more.

Drake moved his fingers from her chin to her cheek, caressing her downy feathers. "It's okay to miss your family." Even if he felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of them getting eight Christmases with her already.

"But it's your first Christmas," Gosalyn said, her impossibly large green eyes finding his face. "I didn't want you to feel bad about doing weird tradition stuff."

Drake held back a wince. "You can tell it's my first Christmas on my own, huh?"

Gosalyn gave him an exasperated look. "You burned a lot of cookies, Dad."

He couldn't help it. He laughed. Trust this girl to know exactly what was wrong and try to fix it in her own way. Which one of them was the parent here?

It seemed that he could burn more than just cookies, though because the soup started to smoke.

Leaping up, Drake turned off the stove and moved the slightly brown sludge to another burner.

Glancing down at his daughter, he sent her a smile. "Go get your coat. We'll get some food and look at Christmas lights."

She perked up. "Really?"

"Your green coat," Drake instructed, placing a hand between her shoulders to guide her out of the kitchen. "It's cold out there. And get a hat!" he called as she raced up the stairs.

They didn't manage to walk around the neighborhood that night. They got distracted by the decorations downtown and in the park. But Gosalyn was beaming, chattering to him all night, so he must have done something right.

Next year.

He'd put up lights on the house and take Gosalyn around the neighborhood.

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Later that year, on Christmas morning after all the presents had been opened, Gosalyn had crawled into Drake's lap, saying, "I didn't get you anything."

She'd been so small back then; when she would sit in his lap, he'd been able to rest his beak atop her head. Which was exactly what Drake had done in that moment, saying he didn't mind.

He hadn't said what had been in his head, afraid of coming across as too saccharine. But he'd thought it every year after, too, when she'd point out the discrepancies between the number of her presents vs. his.

You're all I need, Gos.

Even now, surrounded by plastic toy drums sprawled around their TV set that bespoke of Gosalyn's gift giving victory, that was all Drake could think.

Sometimes he still burned dinner.

And sometimes he made jokes in uncomfortable situations and ended up making things worse.

And parenting was still the most stressful and terrifying thing he'd ever done.

But she was worth it.

Glancing at Gosalyn with a scowl, Drake muttered, "I'll beat you next year."

Gosalyn pat him on the shoulder. "That's very ambitious of you." With a grin, she bounded out of the room.

Yeah.

Well worth it.

Now what was he supposed to do with twelve drums?