A/N: ...So this is awkward... I could give a long list of reasons this didn't end up getting edited, revised and posted a long time ago, but that'd only be wasting all of our time and postponing the inevitable readage. Plus I just woke up as I write this so I can't really... talk, or think, very well at the moment. Lol... "Lol" has become a word to me now, Idk what that's about.

Anyway, if you've come here expecting a big cliche happy-happy Christmas morning with gifts and waking-the-parents-up-too-early and footy pajamas and "OMFG I GOT AN F-ING TRAIN SET IMMA CRY" and all that... no. I'm not the one to get that from. xD I just skipped over all that, so you can dream up whatever you want that happened in that... that... I can't think of the word, so I'm going to settle very unsatisfied on "period of time."

Well, I won't postpone you any longer, dear reader. Go on ahead. :) OH, and if anyone's wondering about my Reviewer Mentions, I'm starting those back up in Phil's chapter. ^_^ And you know if getting mentioned makes you uncomfortable, you can always tell me not to put you up. XD As usual, thank you so much for the support! You guys make me so happy, it's probably a little unhealthy. xD

Well, hope you enjoy the SHOCKING conclusion to "Of WTF Are You Even Doing and How Could You Have Ever Thought This Was a Good Title." Have a wonderful day and a love-filled Valentines. :D

Disclaimer: I own Zachary Shortman, Phillip Shortman, Ham Shortman, Amanda Shortman, Sophie Carpenter, and Jaron Johanssen. Pamella Idleberry is a collaboration between Panfla and myself.

Life with the Shortmans

Of Godzilla and Mistletoe

Part 2

After shutting the car off and deciding Helga should be the one on microwave duty, the couple started down the short path from the driveway to the door, caught in a state of contentedness and pleasantly warm for a few precious seconds before they both froze mid-step.

Helga's wide eyes blinked, as her mouth breathed without her permission, "What... the hell?"

There were colorful Christmas lights lining the door that they'd been too distracted to notice before, a little dim in places and flickering in others, along with a head-sized dark blue snowflake hanging in the center of the door. After a couple seconds more of staring, they both exchanged a look at this, and Arnold asked quietly, "You don't think he threw a party while we were away?"

"No," Helga responded slowly, cautiously finishing the small walk to the front door with her eyes cut in suspicion, "he wouldn't dare. And even if he did, he wouldn't make it so obvious. He's learned his lesson on that front, that's for damn sure."

Arnold made a small sound of halfhearted agreement as he followed behind her warily, sweeping his eyes up and over the rest of the house the best he could from the awkward angle. Zack always tried to pull some stunt around his birthday, and though it wasn't anywhere near then, they wouldn't put it past him. This could always be a trick of some sort, some cleverly devised plan to celebrate when they would least suspect it. He had seemed awfully eager to see him out of the house. He had long learned not to underestimate his son's deviousness, and would be wholly unsurprised if they had come home to the house burnt to ashes and a bunch of teenagers hooting around it roasting marshmallows and weenies.

But thankfully the house seemed fine… no screaming teenagers, no underwear hanging out windows from flagpoles, no signs of spray paint or Phil clinging to the roof for dear life; he'd ended up there on Zack's thirteenth somehow, though they still didn't have the faintest clue how. Upon asking a terror-stricken Phil, who was doing nothing but staring into space and twitching, all they'd managed to get out of him was a haunted murmur of, "So many… eggs…" Which really had only raised more questions. And made Helga ten times more livid.

Ham had come home from a sleepover with a friend only to find them screaming at Zack as he sat on an upside down couch, and had immediately called his friend again to come pick him back up. And Amanda, dear sweet Amanda, had been hiding out in Phil's room for the entire ordeal and most of the day after the fact, and Phil was so out of it that he hadn't even complained. No one would forget that day, least of all Zack, so this couldn't be… Not again. He wasn't that stupid.

The sound of the lock clicking open snapped him back to the present just in time to watch as Helga opened the door slightly, finding the place pitch black. She turned her wide eyes back to look at him. "Oh, criminy, you don't think someone died, do you?"

Arnold had to roll his eyes at her for that and made a point of stepping past her, opening the door the rest of the way. Looking across the way then, their eyes widened further. There was a light of some sort near the… or, on the staircase. Upon closer inspection they found that it was more Christmas lights, these small and white and looking an awful lot like the ones Zack had in his room. Arnold quietly shut the door after them, placing a protective hand on Helga's shoulder as they ventured further into the house. They paused then, listening a second. Hearing nothing, they proceeded further a bit more calmly, before they reached the doorway of the living room and stopped dead.

There was so much going on at once they didn't know where to focus their eyes first. Helga's eyes went first to the tree, before darting down to their snoring children all piled on the sofa, before they snapped back to the tree again and she squinted. "Is that my bow?" She shook herself then, palming her eyes. "Okay, stupid first question. Let me try that again. Why is there a tree in our house?"

Arnold just stared, unable to form a suitable response. The tree was nearly bare, with sticks poking out from seemingly random spots that were completely coated in silvery and golden glitter, which was currently twinkling in the lambent light of the muted television. Snowflakes of varying shades of blue and white hung from the glimmering branches, also glistening, though to a lesser extent than the rest of the tree, softer. A long string of white lights was draped over each branch with clear intent, looking very much like someone had taken their time with it, though the strand proved too long in the end and the remainder of the lights spilled over in a pile on the floor by the power outlet, alongside a bunch of popcorn that looked like it was thrown at the tree and ended up on the floor instead. At the very top, sure enough, one of Helga's old ribbons was tied neatly at the top, fat and cheery. Pink, blue, white, gold and silver all combined together on a tree that might as well be a bunch of sticks glued to a much larger stick shouldn't work, but somehow the overall effect, shimmering with snowflakes all slowly spinning from the warm air of the vents overhead, was oddly… magical. In an otherworldly, alien kind of way.

It took a while, but Arnold's eyes did shift around to take in the rest of the room. Red and green paper chains were hanging from the walls like garland, with fat clumps of leaves hung where the chains were taped up to the wall. Smaller, white snowflakes were taped in random spots on the walls, here and there, there and here. A bright red flower sat at the center of the coffee table, with a candle on both sides, lit and glowing faintly in the dark. A matching candle sat unlit on the side table by the couch, with another clump of leaves laying there decoratively. A smaller pink bow hung neat at the bottom of the TV stand, with a long white sock drooping on either side of it.

To summarize, it looked like a hell of a lot of work. A lot of work that didn't make sense.

Baffled, he turned his eyes to the people responsible for the display, seeing them all passed out on the couch together. Zack laid on the far end, his head propped up in one hand while the other hung limply beside Amanda, who was pressed tight into his side, her arms clasped around his middle, snoring quietly in tune with him. Ham sat beside the two, slouching with his head hanging back on the couch, mouth wide open, the ends of a red sheet laying in his lap. Phil was curled up on the other side of the couch closest to them, the majority of the sheet cocooning him as a line of drool hung from the corner of his mouth. He hadn't thought they had been gone long enough for all this, but the infomercial on glow-in-the-dark BBQs and dead-asleep kids begged to differ.

"Uh…" Helga voiced his thoughts, the bag from BIGAL'S Tasty Café crinkling as she held it up to eye level. "I'll just go pop these in right quick and be right back… You wake up the munchkins." And ask them just what the hell happened while we were gone, went unsaid, but he heard it all the same. He didn't look as she walked past him and headed for the kitchen, keeping his eyes focused on the four miscreants snoozing on the couch.

Stepping over onto the carpet to keep his footsteps quiet, he wandered over to stand in front of them, casting a shadow over them. Thinking he saw Phil's eyelids twitch a second, he fell onto his knees and shook him, softly murmuring, "Phil, you need to wake up. It's Dad. We're home now, we brought dinner."

Phil muttered something incoherent in response, but he managed to decipher a few words. "Leave" and "one more hour" being the closest he could interpret. One more hour wasn't going to work, however; if he tried to wake Ham first, he'd end up with a bloody nose, Amanda was too sweet to even think to wake up, and Zack was just… Phil had to wake up.

He liked how peaceful he looked, though, how void of worry or pain. In wakefulness, he was typically either utterly indifferent to the point of slight concern or overflowing with torrents of violent emotion to the point of absolute concern, but here he was just another innocent little boy with a bad case of bed-head. Arnold felt a swell of affection for him, before he resigned himself once more and grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him a little harder this time. "Phil, you need to get up now." He racked his brain for a reason that he would care about, before his eyes lit up and he said urgently, "I think I just heard Santa."

Almost instantly Phil's eyes flew open and he flew up, yelling out in a sleep-hazed slur, "Where is that fat son of a sub, I'll end him and all of his gnomes before he even knows where he began and I started!" Clenching his eyes shut abruptly, he sucked in a breath and shook his head quick, before rubbing his eyes. Dazed, he looked around himself, like he didn't recognize the place. "Wait, what did I just say?"

"Phil." The brunet snapped his hazy eyes to him in a sharp movement, trying to focus his eyes on him. Arnold smiled, bemused. "I'm sorry to wake you up like this, but your mother and I are home now. We have burgers. No pickles on yours, just like you like." Phil was staring past him but he could tell he'd heard him, 'cause his mouth went into a line. He looked very much like he just wanted to go back to sleep and say 'screw food' but his stomach was giving him second thoughts. The quiet grumble that sounded from his stomach the next second confirmed his assumptions, and Phil gave in with a sigh as he shifted his legs off the couch to the floor. Arnold moved back some to give him room, but stayed positioned in front of him intently. Phil paused at his look, eyes squinting slightly in the dark. He asked, a little defensive, "What?"

Reaching over to pick up the leaves from the table beside him, he held it up to the light and raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain?"

Phil stared at it blankly for a solid five seconds, before his droopy eyes bolted fully open and an, "Oh," popped out of his mouth. Frowning, he looked over to see everyone else fast asleep, and for a split-second his eyes flicked to the TV before he looked back to Arnold and frowned a little deeper. "Um," he managed.

Suddenly his hand flew out and pushed Ham over with nothing but pure panic-stricken adrenaline, and he fell over onto Amanda, who woke up with a start and yelped, causing Zack to sputter awake, coughing from the saliva that had built a pocket in his mouth. Ham flew off of Amanda and lashed out at the air, before he looked around wildly and a shudder wracked his body. Phil just smiled at Arnold and folded his hands in his lap, not once looking away.

Arnold stared at all his disheveled, glassy-eyed children for a few moments, and even managed to open his mouth in a drawn out, "Uh," but before he could think to actually say anything, Phil beat him to it. Loudly and out of the blue, all but forcing everyone to look at him, he asked, "So, Dad, how was your day? Did Mom cheer you up?"

Arnold tilted his head at him, blinking. "Um, I guess. How did you—"

"Ha," Phil exclaimed, sending a hard look at Ham, Faith, and Zack, but mainly Zack. He stuck his tongue out then, and said, "I stinking told you," before he scooted back into the comfort of the couch and sunk in, red sheet still held tight in his hands. He looked over to Arnold and said plainly, "It was their stupid idea, not mine. Ask them." He grabbed a bowl of popcorn that had been sitting partially behind him and popped a few pieces in his mouth, ready to enjoy the show.

Arnold slowly turned his eyes to the rest of them, a small wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. "What stupid idea?"

Zack blinked, and the three all exchanged a look, before he looked back and announced, "If you're mad, it was all Josh. If you love it, this was all me." Ham reached over to try to push Zack, but was unable to get a good enough angle with Amanda there to put much real force into it. Zack's only reaction was a sleepy chuckle. Amanda just clung tighter to him, already falling back asleep.

"All this," Arnold gestured an arm out at the room, raising an eyebrow at them. "What is all this? I don't know if I'm angry or not. You guys know we go over to the boarding house for Christmas. So why… Are you all just anxious to get your Christmas presents early or something? 'Cause that's not happening." He smirked lightly.

"No, we," Ham began, before Zack cut him off.

"You seemed really weird this morning, like something was bothering you, so," Zack shrugged, shifting slightly to attempt a stretch with Amanda still around him, "we thought about it and—"

Ham finished for him, speedily, "We thought maybe you felt bummed because Christmas was coming up and it was getting cold, but nothing was going on out here so…" Trying to explain it all out, with Arnold looking at him in baffled inquiry and his mind still hazy from dreams he didn't recall, it all seemed to make less and less sense now, so he stopped. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, he shut it again and bit the inside of his cheek.

Zack picked up where he left off, eyes foggy and serene, "We wanted to cheer you up, so we tried to bring Christmas to Nowhere-Land. You're welcome." His eyes snapped fully open then and he smiled, reaching down to pry the remote out from underneath his butt. "Oh, almost forgot!" Holding it out to the TV, he pressed a button and the image of Ronnie Matthew's grinning, liposuctioned face snapped to a flickering fire, giving a warm orangey-red glow to the room. The mute button was clicked off then and the relaxing sounds of crackles and snaps came. Zack grinned. "Tada!"

Arnold turned and stared for a long moment, before he looked back at them all, face shadowed, and asked quietly, "You did all this, to make me feel better?"

Zack shrugged while Ham hesitantly nodded, and even Amanda managed to give a sleepy little nod, yawning. Phil just popped another piece of popcorn in his mouth.

Arnold stared at them in silence. Ham's confidence in the whole idea was starting to seriously wane, but Zack remained unfazed. His eyes lit up suddenly then and he pointed in the corner, saying conversationally, "Oh, we also brought down your old record player and some Christmas records." At his father's continued staring silence, he added, sleep thickening his words again, "Don't worry, we didn't break it or anything. Phil set it up. Whatever he says, don't listen, he helped just as much as everyone else."

"The tree is still a stupid custom and I had nothing to do with it," Phil stated mid-crunch.

"You're a stupid custom."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"But that doesn't make any sense, numbskull."

"Or is it you that doesn't make sense? Huh? Huh?"

"Hm, interesting point, let me think about—No."

"I…" All eyes snapped back to Arnold at the word, and they watched as his shadowed features appeared to contort somehow. Everyone seemed to hold their breath at the same time despite themselves, as a slightly choked sound tumbled out of their father's mouth. Zack and Ham both wore similar expressions of horror as Arnold coughed and sniffed for a few seconds, while Phil just stared stoically, his body still as the silence that surrounded them.

Arnold seemed to come back to himself then as he took in a breath, and he let it out in a short laugh that relaxed everyone's nerves. "I don't know what to say," he said honestly, sounding deeply touched, melancholy, and amused all at once. "I don't know what to think, really. I mean… you covered a tree in glitter and taped a bunch of leaves to the walls—"

"I told them they'd just wilt—" Phil started to say, irritation tinting his words, but Zack interrupted him with, "We just needed them there for the day, whatever happens after that doesn't matter. What does matter is whether or not they had the intended effect." Sitting up, as Amanda had shifted off of him from all the talking to lean against Ham instead, he put his hands on his knees and asked, "Does it make you feel better, Dad? Or at least make you want to laugh at how utterly stupid we are?"

"We'll clean it up," Ham added hesitantly, before he fell silent again, lips drawn tight.

"At the very least, you have to admit the idiots care," Phil, surprisingly, added into the conversation in his usual dry fashion.

Zack looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept it to himself, forcing his eyes to stay focused on Arnold.

Arnold looked at them all individually, Zack straight-backed and intent, Ham a silent wreck, Amanda half-asleep but clearly listening in based off of how she kept peeking through her eyelids, and Phil staring blankly, but with interest. They obviously didn't know how much this gesture really meant to him. They'd just done it as a way to cheer him up, to make him feel better about whatever had gotten him down, and that made this all the harder.

He didn't know how to coherently explain out all his fears as a parent without getting sappy on them; how to tell them how guilty he'd felt over not being able to give them nicer things or take them out more often; how with Christmas coming up he'd been feeling more and more stressed; how much he just wanted to give them everything there was in the world but couldn't—but most of all, he didn't know how to tell them how much he feared they would leave someday and forget all about him, their boring old dad who cared so much but gave so little.

So finally, he told them simply in the most sincere voice he owned, "I love you kids, and I love what you did. I feel so much better. Thank you."

Instantly their faces all lit up, even Amanda smiled despite being asleep and launched herself at him, cuddling in tiredly as she quietly hummed into his neck. "Love you, Daddy. Merry Christmas," she yawned, arms wrapped about his neck as she sagged from the couch.

He gave a watery chuckle, hugging her back gently. "I love you too, Faith."

"I stinking told you," Zack said with a smug grin in Phil's direction, who just grunted and threw a piece of popcorn at him. Ham grinned as well and said forcefully, "It was my idea." Zack just rolled his eyes, choosing not to comment for the moment.

Arnold chuckled again, holding Amanda tighter to himself, before picking her up completely and cradling her in his arms. She was so heavy now, he thought with his mood dropping a little. He shook himself of the thought, though. This wasn't the time, so he held her close to his chest and stood up, smiling down at them all fondly. Hard to deal with or not, they were good kids.

Ham stood up suddenly and held his arms out to him, and for a second he thought he wanted a hug, but then he was taking Amanda out of his arms and edging towards the door. "Uh, merry early Christmas, Dad," he said, smiling slightly as he neared the door leading to the hall. "I'll just put Amanda to bed. We can finish this all up in the morning."

Arnold frowned slightly, his arm reaching out. "We brought back dinner—"

"Breakfast," Ham corrected, smilingly a bit sheepishly. "It's really late, Dad. We can get a fresh start on everything tomorrow." He offered one last smile, before he was gone, back turned and trotting out of the room with Amanda waving at him over his shoulder. Arnold watched them go, before he sighed, a smile washing over his face.

"Goodie-Track-Shoes," Zack yawned, leaning leisurely back into the couch and throwing his feet up onto the coffee table. "I wanted to get this show on the road today, not tomorrow."

"Well," Arnold looked down to check his watch, wincing at what he found, "it is way past your bedtime." He let his arm drop down and gave a deeply guilty look at his remaining two children. "I'm so sorry we stayed out so late, the time must have gotten away."

Zack smirked lightly, his hands cushioning the back of his head. "Oh, yes, time does tend to do that when you're having a good time." His face split in a cheeky grin just as Arnold shot him a warning look.

Phil sniffed suddenly as the smell of burning cheese reached him, and he turned his head to the kitchen, bemused. He spotted something when he did, hovering in the shadows beyond the doorway, and he raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Dad," he started, pointing to the door. Arnold turned his head to look and saw nothing. He looked to Phil with a raised eyebrow of his own then, and Phil quickly stood from the couch, throwing aside the sheet as he walked calmly across the room. Once in the doorway, he grabbed his mom by the elbow and pulled her out of hiding.

Almost instantly Helga grabbed him to her and gave him a big, wet kiss on the cheek. He flailed a little at first, shocked, before she gave him a tight squeeze and released him to stumble away and fall against the doorway in dismay. She straightened then and smirked in Arnold's direction, crossing her arms over her chest. "See, darling? It's not that hard to get a hug out of Phil. You just have to be smart about it."

Phil looked up at her, stunned, and she snickered a little as she pointed her finger straight up. He looked where she was pointing then and his eyes snapped shut and his mouth went razor-straight the exact half-second his eyes met with the fake mistletoe hanging above their heads. Helga winked at Arnold and nodded her head in Phil's direction, winking again. Arnold caught on and hummed a little, hand coming up to cup his chin a second before he sauntered over to stand with them, speaking as he walked, "I see what you're saying, dear, but I can't condone forcing—" he snapped forward with viper-like speed and grabbed Phil up, ignoring his screech as he hugged him tight about the torso and rocked two-and-fro. Phil tried admirably to escape his fate, but in the end Arnold prevailed—a firm kiss was planted amongst his fluffy brown locks, before Arnold mercifully loosened his grip enough for Phil to push back with his hands on his shoulders, shuddering.

A flash went off suddenly, startling them. They turned their heads just in time for another one to go off, blinding them momentarily. Once their eyes adjusted back to accommodate the darkened room, the first thing they saw was Zack grinning toothily at them, his phone held up. He announced brightly, "That one has to be our Christmas card. Wait until you see your faces, you'll flip." Helga's eyebrows flew up in interest, but both Arnold and Phil looked less than enthused with the idea.

"Do I look stupid in it?" Helga inquired, eyebrows high.

Zack flipped back to the picture and looked at it, then her, then it again, repeating this motion as he replied, "You just look like you're having a good time. It's Phil's horror stricken one and Dad's scrunched up terrifying excuse for a kissy-face that win the gold." He snickered, staring at his phone with the most sinfully delighted expression.

Helga smiled at this, apparently satisfied. Perhaps a bit too satisfied. "Ah, that's good then. Christmas card it is. You know how I love pictures of your father that make him look like a dolt." Zack laughed his agreement.

Meanwhile, as this conversation between mother and son went on, Phil shook his hair out of his face and ran a hand through to straighten it, his face devoid of any real expression as he patted his dad on the shoulder with his other hand. He spoke quietly, none too keen on the others overhearing, "If you're going to keep holding me like this, Dad, you'd better start heading towards the kitchen. It's the least you can do after trying to kill me."

"I kissed you on your head," Arnold replied wryly.

Phil looked at him dully, unimpressed. "Like I said. Tried to kill me. Now mush, Balto, I'm hungry and tired." Arnold smirked and turned to humor his request, when Zack yelled for him to stop suddenly. He paused, and turned his head inquiringly to him. Zack held his hands up from where he stood in front of the coffee table, forming a square with his fingers, and looked at them through it with one eye squished shut. "Ah, ah. Can't leave yet, Arnold, you've gotta kiss Mama for the camera."

Arnold furrowed his eyebrows at this, but Helga seemed to understand. She reached out to him and pulled him back under the mistletoe by his sleeve, smirking tenderly. Phil's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen, and he waved his arms at Zack, signaling him to cut it out with two fingers waving at his throat. Zack just grinned and gleefully ignored him, holding the camera up with an enthusiastic, "Say burnt cheese!"

Arnold and Helga kissed, and the flash went off. The kiss lasted another couple seconds after the picture was taken, before they pulled back and smiled at each other lovingly, a silent understanding passing between them. Helga's contented look vanished the next second, however, and her eyes snapped wide. "Wait, burnt cheese?" She squeaked and raced towards the kitchen, cursing under her breath.

Arnold laughed and turned his head back to smile at Phil, who had grabbed his hair and purposely twisted it down into his face to hide his eyes. Arnold just laughed more at this and moved to set him down. Phil stopped him suddenly, though, hair still hanging in his face but eyes visible now as he looked up at him. He asked seriously, keeping his voice discreet, "Mom really did cheer you up? You're not faking?" Arnold blinked at this and nodded, muttering his profound sincerity. Phil's shoulders seemed to ease after hearing this, and he allowed him to sit him back on his feet with a sigh of relief. Straightening himself, and without any further words, he abruptly quit the room, heading languidly towards the kitchen.

And so Arnold and Zack were left alone together. Zack deposited his phone back into his pocket once he realized this, and clasped his hands behind his back with a smirk. Arnold met his eyes levelly, his face carefully blank. There were a lot of questions in the air, and a lot of things both of them wanted to say, but now wasn't the time. Not with the fire crackling and tree twinkling, not with everyone exhausted and heading to bed and burnt cheese hanging in the air. There would be time for everything in the morning; just not right now.

And so, Arnold mirrored his posture and confessed, trying for a joke, "You know, for a second I was afraid you'd thrown another party."

Instantly Zack's eyelids utterly disappeared and his jaw fell. For a moment he seemed almost incapable of speech, but Arnold only had a second to feel taken aback before Zack threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, criminy, hell no. I've learned my lesson there." He gave a mock-shudder that almost wasn't mocking at all, shaking his head jerkily as if to shake away the mere idea and any memories attached to it.

Arnold raised an eyebrow and smirked, mentally patting himself on the shoulder. Good parenting at it's finest; he was scarred for life. Excellent.

A silence settled over them then. Not an uncomfortable one, though definitely thick with something, and Arnold took the moment to casually glance back around the room and smile approvingly, wanting to show his appreciation, before looking back and meeting his son's eyes. He cleared his throat.

"So," Zack spoke first, a wide smile lightening his features and brightening the mood in the room, "I probably shouldn't do this after you assumed the worst of me…" he walked slowly across the room to him, eying him in an exaggeratedly cautious manner, before he beamed, "but what the heck? Merry Christmas, Dad." He came forward and gave him a hug that Arnold didn't hesitate to return, his hold both firm and gentle, mirroring Zack's.

Arnold's face softened in the hug, and he clenched his eyes shut, tightening his hold on him. "Merry Christmas, son."

Tomorrow he would wake up and turn the sprinkler on to coat the lawn in icicles, and make everyone breakfast as he always did, but with chocolate chips and cherries. They would have hot chocolate and watch early Christmas movies before going outside and blowing bubbles into the wind, pretending they're something else entirely. He would dance with his wife to Dino Spumoni and tease his kids over the entire silly thing even while he indulged their every whim. And he would smile the entire day, before going to bed with his wife, kissing her on the forehead, and falling asleep without a single unhappy thought in his head.

He didn't know how he was ever going to let them go.

The decision was made for him when Zack pulled suddenly back from his tight embrace and asked seriously, looking him in the eye, "You really like it?"

Arnold met his look with a gentle smile and compassionate eyes. "Of course I do, Zack. You kids went to a lot of work over me and the house looks amazing. How could I not love it?"

And just like that, Zack was beaming again with smug satisfaction.

Arnold chuckled, and reluctantly pulled back the rest of the way. With a firm pat on his son's shoulder, he turned to walk back in the direction of burnt cheese and runny lasagna. "But never do it again."

11:30 AM. Christmas day.

A wreath hung vibrantly on the front door of the Sunset Arms, large and three shades greener than the door itself. Mrs. Shortman tilted her head at it in concentration and hummed theatrically, tapping a finger against her hip. "Something's missing here but I just can't…" she muttered, before her eyes lit up. "Ah, I know." Pulling the ribbon out of her hair, sending dark blonde locks tumbling down her back, she wrapped it around the top of the wreath and tied it in a massive bow.

Amanda hopped up and down, a bottle in her hand. "Sparkles," Amanda giggled, waving the bottle in the air, and Helga made an, "Oh, of course," of pretend realization. Taking the bottle from her hand, she snapped the cap off and poured the silvery, red mix into her hand. It glinted and shone as she spread it out in her palm, before she grinned, held her hand out to the wreath and blew. Sparkles fell and flew in the chilled winter air, carried away by the win. Not a single speck made it onto the wreath, and both Helga and Amanda's faces went blank. Blinking, Helga muttered, "Typical."

Zack swung his legs from where he sat perched beside them on the stoop, smirking slightly. "You tried so hard and got so far, but in the end it doesn't even matter." He snickered, turning his new iPod off and slipping it into his pocket. Helga sent him a dry look, already regretting giving him that.

Phil rolled his eyes, standing at the bottom of the steps and looking out around the snowy road. After a few seconds, he huffed decisively and crossed his arms. "A blessing in disguise," he assured, a tad irritated as he continued to watch the roads.

Helga puffed out a breath, eyes flicking heavenward, when the door suddenly started to open. Amanda managed to leap out of the way in time, but Helga wasn't so lucky. She was knocked back, the bottle of glitter falling out of her hands and scattering down the steps. Zack's hand shot out on instinct and he grabbed her by the arm, which ended up being a bad move as Helga scrambled to grab him by both his arms and ended up pulling him down with her. Another hand shot out suddenly from the door and grabbed Helga, steadying her just before she tumbled the rest of the way down the steps, which left Zack wobbling in an attempt to gain back his balance only to fall over the other way and face-plant into the snow. Animals raced out of the house as Phil burst into laughter, finger pointed at Zack as he struggled to push himself up from the ground, sputtering snow out of his nose and mouth.

Abner zeroed in on him like a fat, pink heat seeking missile, and before Phil knew what was happening, he was thrown back, air whooshing out of his lungs. He stared straight up in disoriented terror for a moment, before something hot and rough scraped against his cheek, and he groaned, "Abner!"

Arnold stepped out onto the stoop, hand still clasped protectively around Helga's arm, alarmed. "Man, I can't go anywhere with you people," he joked, before he grabbed Helga by her shoulders and guided her over to stand on the steps very deliberately. He stepped down to help Zack up from the snow then as Helga performed a series of rapid blinks, still coming back to herself. Phil's loud sounds of distress and Amanda's mad giggling snapped her out of it, and her eyebrows flew up.

"Get back, beast," Phil yelled, vainly attempting to push Abner off, only to get snogged more determinedly. "Back from whence ye came! You have long overstayed your welcome! It's not flattering anymore! You are about five seconds away from becoming Christmas dinner!" Abner gave an especially adoring swipe of his tongue straight up the middle of his face, going over his mouth, nose, and forehead. Phil coughed and shuddered hard, furiously wiping at his face with the sleeve of his jacket. Abner's tail wagged back and forth as he panted in his face, his sagging, old eyes lit brighter than the lights surrounding the boarding house.

Helga simply snorted out a laugh at this display, walking down the last couple steps to the sidewalk. "Well, maybe if you didn't insist on bathing yourself in half of your father's shampoo every time you bathe this wouldn't be such an issue. Apparently I'm not the only one addicted to herbal spice. That's some powerful stuff." She sent a saucy look over at her husband. He rolled his eyes.

Arnold crouched down on his hind legs and whistled Abner over, patting his legs. Abner snapped his head around at the sound, and tried to jump off of Phil's chest, only to trip and roll onto his back. He squealed, kicking his legs in the air, before he got quickly tired and sagged back, his legs flopping over in exhaustion. Arnold dropped his head a moment, his shoulders shaking, before he looked up with a strained expression and walked over to pick Abner up. Abner snorted gratefully and licked at his face, and Arnold's face lost thirty years for a few precious seconds as Helga gazed at him.

Phil was still sputtering even after he'd gone, and sat up with a cough and ferocious wipe down of his face with his sweater. Shaking his hair out, Phil grumbled, "That's what you said last time he tried to lick the flesh off my skull. I tried switching shampoos a long time ago. It didn't work."

Helga focused her eyes back on him at that, eyes widening. "Really now?" She snorted, putting a hand on her waist as she smirked. "Well, I guess he just likes ya then." Phil buried his face in his hands, as if she'd just told him he only had three days to live.

"Hey, hey," a gruff voice murmured unexpectedly, and everyone snapped their heads around to see Big Bob Pataki plodding up to the house, clad in a heavy, camouflage coat and black snow boots… and a Santa hat pulled over his head. A gray-haired, but slightly more energetic Miriam Pataki trailed after him in a lush, lavender dress, carrying a long gold gift box in her arms. Bob lugged along with two massive shopping bags, his body short and wide and sagging in seemingly random places.

The burlesque man eyed them all with half his eyebrow extended up, before his eyes focused on Phil sitting wide-eyed in the snow and he grumbled something incoherent. Looking over to his son-in-law, he asked, his voice sticking to low, gravelly tones, "Where's that meat boy? I need him to help me carry these inside."

Arnold and Abner both stared at him. "I'm more than capable of helping you, Bob," Arnold said, his tone only a little dry. An achievement, to be sure, he thought to himself.

Big Bob blinked at this, before he swept his eyes over him. Once, twice. And then he blinked again and frowned. "Are you sure?"

Arnold sighed, set Abner down, and reached over to relieve him of his load. He grabbed the first bag up with pointed force, and hefted it up under his arm with a meaningful look. Big Bob just shrugged and allowed him to take the rest of the bags from him.

Helga narrowed her eyes slightly, walking down the steps to greet her parents as she wrapped her jacket tighter about herself. "Hello to you too, Bob," she said sarcastically. "Where's that death-trap you call transportation at?"

Bob shifted his eyes over to her then and cracked a smile. "Hey there, girl." He reached a hand over to grab her by the shoulder and squeeze, and Helga's frown faltered. "We couldn't drive. The road's are covered thick. We roughed it over here."

Helga's jaw dropped, and she took an involuntary step back. "You what?"

Bob shrugged his bulky shoulders just as Miriam caught up and stood beside him. "We couldn't miss Christmas with you, honey," Miriam told her sweetly, smiling. Big Bob grunted his agreement and added resolutely, with no little amount of pride, "A Pataki never misses a Christmas." His face sagged then, and he crossed his arms with something that almost resembled a pout. "It was one of the only things we did right for you." Helga's face melted at that, and she moved forward to envelop her parents in a hug about their shoulders, squeezing.

"Christmas was always the best time of the year," Helga granted, pulling back to bestow an indulgent smile. They both brightened, and she brightened with them, before a smirk took hold of her countenance. "You guys aren't that late…" she sugarcoated, well aware they were supposed to be here hours ago. They'd long given up on them showing any time soon and exchanged gifts. She had been mad. She'd spent most of her morning coming up with snappy sarcastic responses to excuses they might make. Arnold had had to give her multiple massages just to keep her calm. But none of that mattered anymore, because they were here, and cold, and guilty. And in the end that's what truly counted. She smiled deviously at them. "Phil's been anxious all morning waiting for you guys."

"Is that so?" Bob turned his eyes onto Phil, and the boy scrambled up off of the sidewalk, wiping the snow off of his backside. Zack, who had carefully backed himself away from the group, began up the steps to hopefully escape any conversation. No such luck, Bob called to him, "Hey… the big blue string bean one over there." Zack stopped, and reluctantly turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. "Yeah, you. Rob's not going to give me a straight answer, so you answer me: is that true?"

Zack answered plainly, "I'd say so, yeah. I think he missed you."

Bob grinned big and smug at that, clasping his hands in front of his stomach as he shared a look with his wife. "Did you hear that, Miriam? Rob missed me!"

"Why are you calling me Rob?" Phil asked, brow creasing, his shoulders tenser than usual.

Bob's smile dropped, along with his tone, "Ah… just trying something out. Not working for ya?" Phil shook his head. Bob grunted. "Eh… I figured if Faith could fly for Amanda, maybe." He brightened back up then, reaching over to grab one of Helga's shoulders; a bit too roughly but she didn't complain. "But what the hey, you can be called Pokey the Tooth Fairy if you want, what's important is that you're running Big Bob's Beepers once I'm out of the picture! Right?" He turned his eyes on Helga, looking for backup.

Helga scoffed and pulled her shoulder out of his grasp, a determined scowl settling it's way onto her features. "Ohhh no, I'm not having any part of this conversation. C'mon, Miriam, 'manda, let's get inside."

Bob groaned, holding his arms out in earnest. "Oh, come on, Helga, he's gotta get over that whole acting phase sometime!" Phil bristled.

Helga pretended he hadn't spoken, and continued to all but stomp up the steps, when she stopped suddenly in her haste and turned to Miriam again, holding an arm out. "Hey, Mom, you want me to carry that? It looks pretty heavy."

Miriam smirked slightly and gave a single shake of her head, holding the box closer to herself. Helga looked surprised for a moment, but then she returned her smirk and twisted back around to head into the house. Miriam brushed Bob as she passed by, murmuring a bit tiredly, "Don't be too long, B, you know what the cold does for your arthritis."

He frowned, his unibrow shadowing his eyes. "It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

Miriam ignored him, and soon all the women were inside the house, Amanda the last to go inside with a fleeting glance before the door was closed. Bob and Phil stood at opposite sides of the stoop together, silent.

Bob laughed a little then, the sound deep and gravelly. "Hey, women, huh?"

Phil sent him a dull look, before looking away awkwardly. "I left my cup at your house two weeks ago. Did you bring it?" Bob blinked, before hesitantly nodding, eyebrow narrowing in slight confusion. Phil let out a sigh and nodded, before beginning up the steps. Bob walked over to grab him by the arm. "Hey, Rob—" Phil turned to cast a dark look on him, and he let go without even meaning to.

"No," he said coldly, and Bob was suddenly very aware of how badly his legs ached, "it's Phil. P-H-I-L." He turned around completely. "And just for the record—" He swept his hair back and grinned, all anger, underlying bitterness, and disdain that normally clouded his face disappearing like it had never been there. He looked somehow more his age then, and he smiled at him for a long moment. Bob eyed him with widening eyes, deeply unnerved. Phil grinned wider then, and said, "You're right. That whole acting thing was nothing but a phase. One that lasted almost three years, but hey, who's counting? It doesn't matter anymore. I'm over it now." His smile twitched. "I want to run the beeper store," he finished, strained but still appearing sincere.

Despite himself, Bob perked up. "Really?"

The smile came crashing down and shattered at their feet, replaced once more with flat derision and a hint of relief. "Heck no." The door swung open and slammed shut in the same second, causing a layer of snow to fall from the stoop to his feet. He snapped his eyes from it to the door, outraged, before his face cleared away to blankness and he rolled his eyes. "For Pete's sake, just like his stinking mother. Not a hint of me in him. What a waste."

"For Pete's sake, Mom, we've already opened everything! You've been sitting there clutching that stupid thing ever since you came inside. Will you just gimme the stupid package already?"

"No."

Helga shot her a hard look. "You have got to be kidding. Did you really just say no? What's the big deal?"

Miriam stared at her, with soft lavender eye shadow flickering from the rapidity of her blinking. Her eyes shifted down to look at the package still hugged tight to her chest, before looking back at her a little worriedly. Helga's severity didn't wane, even as her mother finally replied, "I'm waiting for the right moment. It's a little… sensitive, and I want to be able to explain. And not in a room full of people."

"For God's sake, Miriam, what'd you do? Get me a severed head? The blood of my enemies? 'Cause you know if it's the last one, that box's not nearly big enough." Miriam rolled her eyes and shook her head. Helga's frown deepened and she looked sharply to Phil, startling him with the intensity of her look and the quickness of her tongue as she asked, "Phil, what'd she get me?"

Miriam gasped and shook her head, gray hair flying back and forth. "Helga Geraldine, I can't believe you would resort to that! He's not going to tell you!"

Helga groaned at the use of her horrid middle name and ducked her head down, her arms going up over her head as she clenched her eyes shut in exasperation. "Have you even met me, Miriam? Where have you been for the last thirty-nine years?"

"Actually," Phil cut in before they could break into an all-out fight, "I'll tell you."

Helga's arms fell away and a look of pleasant surprise burst onto her face at the same moment horror slid onto Miriam's. "Really? You really do know what it is?"

Phil smiled, folding his hands behind his back. He nodded. "Yep."

Helga stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to dish it out. When he never did, she flew forward and grabbed him by the front of his sweater, pulling him forward in a fit of impatience. "Well? Come on, kiddo, don't leave your poor mother in suspense!"

Phil grimaced at the wildness of her expression, vainly twisting his hands over hers to try to get her to let go of him. He chuckled a little quietly, a wary look on his face. "Yeah… about that—Gram paid me to not tell, so—"

Helga violently ripped her hands from him and threw them up in a huff. "Ever the tease! Where did I go wrong? I knew I shouldn't have allowed you so many liberties when you were younger. Now you're downright spoiled." She glared into the distance, feeling childish. Her eyes lit up then with something he didn't like, and she looked at him sideways. "You know I can ground you, right?"

Phil let out a puff of breath and flicked his eyes to the ceiling. "Where do I have to go? I said I'd tell you, don't worry. But you have to do something for me first." A smirk breezed across his face.

Helga gave him a severe look, unamused. "You're going to charge your own mother? That's ridiculous."

"No," Big Bob entered into the conversation, having overheard it from where he was standing by the bookshelf. "That's business."

Phil's smirk broadened all the more and he held his hand out for her. "Twenty bucks."

Helga gaped at him. "Twenty?"

Phil shrugged, the usual blank look on his face unaffected by her incredulity. "What more do you want? I already deducted the tax and applied your family discount. I can't afford to go any lower. I've gotta put food on the table somehow."

"I put the food on the table for you."

"Be that as it may, twenty bucks is as low as I can go and knowing Gram, you'll be waiting all day to open that package. Do you want to know or not?"

Helga stared stonily at him. He stared stonily back. She stared stonier, then stonier yet, and then stoniest of all. She looked at him with the face of a statue, and still he didn't budge. Her arm twitched, until finally she broke and was reduced to grumbles as she fished her wallet out of her pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. She extended it unwillingly, unable to look at what she was doing, and Phil plucked it out of her stiff fingers and folded it up, sticking it into his sweater. He smirked then, and extracted a ten out of his pocket and held it out to Miriam. She took it unhappily, and he tipped his invisible hat at her. "Pleasure doing business. It's a blender."

Helga's frustration with her son was immediately forgotten at this, and she threw her head back with a deep groan. "Miriam! You didn't!"

"I thought it'd be a nice gesture," she stammered in defense, looking forlornly down at the box in her arms. She mumbled, "I can't believe I got sold out by my own grandson."

"And I can't believe," Helga interjected, looking at her skeptically, "that my formerly alcoholic mother thought it'd be a good idea to give me the bane of her existence for a Christmas gift."

"Oh, come now, Helga, think about it. You could make all sorts of things! Milkshakes, smoothies—" her eyes bolted wide and she looked at Helga quickly. "Not that kind! Oh—" She put a hand to her temple and squeezed her eyes shut with a loud sigh. "This is why I didn't want to give it to you yet. I knew you'd get the wrong idea."

Helga threw her hands in the air, exclaiming, "Unbelievable," before stamping out of the room to the sanctity of the kitchen. Miriam skittered after her anxiously, calling her name.

Meanwhile Bob looked over to Arnold at his side and muttered to him in a hushed tone, "I don't care what any of you say, the boy was born for business." Arnold had to try really hard not to roll his eyes, and succeeded only by the skin of his teeth.

A cackle rang out across the room suddenly, breaking everyone from their previous conversations. "Well, lookie what the cat dragged in!"

Everyone looked down to see Isabelle gazing proudly up at Stella with the ends of something white sticking out the sides of her mouth, her gray and white striped tail whipping back and forth. Stella scrunched her nose up slightly and patted her on the head, scratching behind her ears to distract her. Isabelle eagerly pushed her head into her master's hand, and in her enthusiasm, the fish bone dropped abandoned from her mouth. Miles quickly reached down to pick it up with a napkin, before holding it up for everyone to inspect.

Zack ducked down to examine it at eyelevel, squinting his eyes. "Ooh, that's nasty." He straightened himself and looked amongst his family, a grin flittering across his face. "What are we gonna name it?"

Grandpa Phil eyed it a few seconds before giving a quiet chuckle and muttering, "How about Big Caesar?"

Ernie stared at it skeptically. "Looks more like Dead Caesar to me. Eh, am I right?" Lola murmured her quiet agreement with a gentle scrunch of her nose, before she wandered in the direction of the kitchen. Ernie's lip quirked up slightly in disturbed intrigue, raising half of his unibrow suddenly. "Ah, geez, I think it just moved."

"It can't move, it's a skeleton," young Phil remarked as he adjusted the sleeves of his sweater, sitting on the couch beside Stella. Isabelle made a soft meow and leaped up onto the couch between them, sitting tall and appearing to smile as Stella continued to run her fingers through her fur.

Mr. Hyunh, who had been staring intensely at the bones, suddenly screeched and jumped back a step. "Eee, I saw it too!"

"It's just sliding on the napkin, you guys," Miles chuckled, wrapping it up carefully so he could add it to his collection later on. Isabelle, the cat Stella had adopted for herself from the hoard of stray cats Gertie kept fed, had a habit of finding old bones and dragging them inside to offer them up to people she particularly liked or thought needed a little cheering up. At first they'd all naturally been a little disgusted, but with time they began to find it more and more amusing, realizing she only ever dragged in bones—no half-dead lizards, rats or pigeons. Just bones. Bare bones. Miles liked to joke that she was a regular osteologist, and had started storing the bones away in a shoebox as a joke, labeled and sealed in baggies. Zack had joked they should charge people admission to look upon these "rare discoveries" someday, and Miles had grinned and responded, "We can call it a Meowseum," to which Stella and Helga had both groaned about for a good three hours.

At the present moment, Stella merely flicked her eyes up good-naturedly, before leaning her head down into Isabelle's to twit, "Izzy, what is with you?"

"She's a cat, she can't answer you," Phil said dully. Stella snorted and reached over to give him a light push on the shoulder.

"Where's the old Ham meister anyway?" Ernie asked as he jumped up, backwards, to sit himself in a chair. With gray hair bunched up in thick curls above his ears, and wrinkles gathering innumerably beneath his eyes, he looked to be around in his late sixties. He didn't act it, however. Reaching down beside the chair, he picked up his old accordion and played a note or two, his eyes becoming a tad more youthful with the sound. "I want to get to the Christmas carols already."

"Hiding, as per usual," Zack yawned, looking content as he held a cold cup of eggnog in his hands by the fireplace. "We ought to just start without him. He's not going to come down."

"Aw, now, that ain't right," Ernie gave a huff, setting his accordion down none too gently. "We're his family, gosh darn it. And it's Christmas. Someone better go drag him down here or so help me, I'm not playing anything." He crossed his arms, holding his nose stubbornly in the air like an impertinent child.

Helga jumped back into the room suddenly with a handful of glitter, and blew it into the air, laughing maniacally as it fanned out across the room. Amanda bounced in after her the next second, and the two of them high-fived. "Success!"

Isabelle looked around wildly as specks of red and green sparkled in the air, watching rapt as they fell to the floor. She stood up on the tips of her toes in clear distress, before leaping off of the couch and crouching her face down low to the carpet, staring at the floor in fascination. Meanwhile Miles, who had been standing beside the coffee table where most of the confetti had landed, had to blink it out of his eyelashes and shake it out of his hair. "Aw, come on," he whined, though a smile was on his face as he ran a hand down his shirt.

"Miles," Grandpa Phil laughed at his son as he glinted in the firelight, leaning against the wall near where Zack stood warming his back, "don't you look pretty!" He snickered, Zack joining in with a chortle shortly after. Helga smirked sinfully, reaching a blind hand down to take Amanda by the shoulder and give her a squeeze. Faith giggled.

Miles turned to give a mock-testy look over his shoulder at his father and grandson, an eyebrow slightly raised. The two grinned back innocently. Young Phil just muttered sarcastically, catching everyone's attention, "Look on the bright side—now all you need to do is believe and think happy thoughts, and voila, you can fly, you can fly, you can fly."

"Oh, shush, Phil," Helga scoffed, walking over to flick him in the ear for the comment. "I think you've said quite enough." He yelped, sending her the stink-eye as he rubbed at his ear. Amanda just giggled once more and trotted back into the kitchen to where her Gram and Grandma still were.

Miles chuckled one last time before he leaned down to set Isabelle's fish bone on the coffee table with a sigh. Straightening himself, he gave one final wipe down of his shirt as he said, "Well, I'll just go fly upstairs and see if I can't convince Ham to come down then. Fish bones, carols, and pixie-dust—he doesn't know what he's missing."

Ernie gave a long-suffering sigh. "Thank you."

As Miles exited the room, Arnold chose that moment to stride in with a red-wrapped package under his arm, and a red-haired teenage girl at his side. With hair pulled back in it's usual perky ponytail and messy strands falling down into her face, Pam stood there in a bulky maroon coat and a beanie pulled down to her eyebrows. "Look who's here," Arnold announced her pleasantly, just as Pam gave a hard shudder and whipped her beanie off, throwing her head back as if she could shake the cold from her system.

"I don't care how long I live in New York, I will never be used to these random climate changes." Pam sniffled, running a hand over her chilled, white face. "Wasn't it like a firecracker just a few months ago?"

"You're preaching to the choir, sister," Helga droned sarcastically, leaning her backside against the arm of the couch with arms crossed. Phil had his head poked out to look around her at Pam, eyes just a little too wide, and Pam felt herself stiffen at the attention. Helga adjusted her long pink sweater down over her hips then, and leaned back a little further, hands unfolding and stretching back to support her weight on the couch's arm. "So," she smiled, a friendlier look coloring her features, "who the heck are ya?" As if she didn't already know.

Pam blinked at her, and was a bit startled when Arnold tried to take her coat off for her. Grabbing it tighter about herself, she snapped away from him, taking a distancing step to the side. Arnold raised an eyebrow at her, amused, and she realized herself with a quick, affected chuckle. "Sorry," she mumbled, fiddling with the buttons of her coat, "still a little chilly." Arnold smiled in understanding and walked further into the room to set her package down. As he did so, Pam turned her eyes back to Helga's inquiring ones and managed only the slightest smile, unsettled by all the eyes she could now see were upon her. "Uh, Pamella Idleberry. Ma'am." She coughed.

Helga blinked. "Quaint," she concluded slavishly, thinking back on her son's comments – or rather complaints – over dinner. She considered her gingerly, eyebrow cocked. She looked an awfully lot like someone she knew. She knew she was Zack's teacher's daughter, though, so it couldn't be, but it didn't mean there couldn't still be a resemblance. Her hair was almost the exact same shade, nose upturned in the same fashion, but the eyes and skin were all wrong, the body-type not slim enough or taste in clothes anywhere near right. Still, she couldn't help a level of skepticism as she took her in, as her eyes refused to stop drifting to the dark, vibrant red of her hair.

Pam cleared her throat to break the slight awkwardness that had descended on them, adventuring a step or two deeper into the room. "And I'm guessing you're Mrs. Shortman." She smiled, before something a tad dry touched her face as she flicked an eye in the direction of the fireplace, and certain people surrounding it. "You must be so proud."

Helga couldn't help but grin at this, and replied, "Oh, the proudest. Jolie ain't got nothing on me." Arnold rolled his eyes.

"Yeah." Pam blinked then, as a slightly apprehensive look clouded her features. She hesitated only a moment before asking, "You guys know your stoop's steps look like Tinker Bell threw up on them, right?"

"Yep."

Pam blinked once more, waiting for an explanation. Once she realized one was not going to come, if Helga's blank face was any indication, she cleared her throat and averted her eyes, rubbing her upper arms out of both discomfort and the chill still clinging to her.

Zack had been in the process of slowly inching his way over to hide behind Grandpa Phil, but the smaller, more annoying Phil destroyed this plan when he suggested, rubbing his hands together as if to dispel a chill even though he'd been inside for well over an hour now, "If you're cold, why don't you go over by the fire? By your good friend Zack?"

Pam looked down into his smiling ingenuine face and frowned, then turned to look at Zack. He stopped all movements instantly and froze, as if he were trying to escape prison and she was a guard with a gun, before a grin slid flawlessly into place and he swept an arm out in welcome, accepting Phil's challenge. She flicked her eyes up at the gesture but slid her coat off all the same, shivering slightly from the freeze lingering around it. Arnold was more than happy to take it from her with a courteous smile, and she looked at him as if he were a two-headed dog. Helga raised an eyebrow at her, fascinated.

Once she was standing in the warmth of the fire, the rest of the adults resumed conversation, laughing and teasing each other. Zack was silent through most of this, looking drowsy, but pleasantly so. He always looked pleasant, even as she knew what a jerk he truly was. But then, what reason didn't he have to be pleasant, with so much happy, loyal family surrounding him? Sniffing slightly as she held her hands out to the fire, she asked casually, "Where's your girlfriend?"

Zack wiped his mouth, having just taken a long swig of eggnog, before he looked over at her, half his eyebrow raised. "It's Christmas and she's Sophie Carpenter—where do you think?"

She shrugged carelessly, turning her eyes back to the fire. She couldn't help a smirk. "Just asking, just asking."

It was silent for a while, as Zack watched in good humor as Ernie impatiently tried to play a small ditty on his accordion to warm up, before he abruptly gave up and instead began a string of complaints in his scratchy voice that the notes weren't coming out right. Arnold commented on it, comforting him as he said he should really get a new accordion, as the one he had now had seen a lot of abuse over the years. Ernie was distraught over the notion, but fell silent after saying he guessed they couldn't play any Christmas carols after all. Stella patted him on the knee with comforting words even as she muttered something under her breath akin to, "Thank you, God." Ernie ignored her. Phil smirked. Helga snorted. Grandpa Phil and Arnold held back laughter. And Big Bob slipped out of the room to escape to the sanctity of the bathroom.

That was when something occurred to Zack and he turned his head to looked through one eye at Pam, lips pursing tight in suspicion. "Why did you ask?"

Pam looked over at him in surprise, before she smirked again and turned around to let the fire work it's magic on her frozen legs and backside. "Well, I know we're supposed to be friends now or whatever, but to be frank, I like her way more than I like you." Zack blinked at her with widened eyes, before he snorted and took another gulp of his eggnog, practically tipping the thing completely upside down. "I feel the same," he muttered afterwards, in a manner like it was to himself even though it was clearly loud enough for her to hear. They both smirked slightly at each other for it, glad to agree on something.

Zack somewhat spoiled the moment when he said, searching his cup for any last drops of nog in his cup, "Yeah, just don't be getting any ideas, she's mine." Pam couldn't help a small laugh at that, tapering off into a giggle and then a snort. A breath burst aggressively from Zack's lips at the sound, but neither commented, too eager for the conversation to end on a note that didn't have them wanting to strangle each other.

It was then that Miles trotted in with Ham in tow, and he slapped a hand down on his shoulder, as if to keep him from running off like a frightened animal. "I found him," Miles declared, grinning. "It took a lot—practically had to throw a net over his head and sling him over my shoulder—but here he is. Alive, even. Do I get a bonus for that?" Stella gave him a slightly flattened look, mouth quirked. Ham just looked around uncomfortably, forcing out an awkward laugh even as his face showed no sign of amusement in the situation.

Pam's eyes drank him in appreciatively, with his white long-sleeved sweater and damp freshly-washed blond hair, eyelashes shading her cheeks in the faint light of weak fluorescents. Nobody seemed to notice the look, save one person, who had to resist rolling their eyes at how predictable she was proving to be.

Ernie threw his arms in the air the next moment, his feet making a loud thump as he slid off of his chair to the floor. "It doesn't matter anymore. We can't play any songs. The dang thing's busted." He gave a half-hearted kick to where his accordion laid on the floor, unleashing a sigh.

Arnold's shoulders bounced a bit in a shrug as he smiled at his family, a solution already on the tip of his tongue. His mouth was opening to voice it, everyone had already instinctively looked to him, but Gertie dressed in full kimono bursting into the room interrupted him as she sang merrily, "Let's get to the Secret Santa!" She banged a small gong, just as Amanda sprang back in from the kitchen after her with a small wrapped gift.

"I got Mr. Kokoschka," she sang in imitation, her voice like bells as she looked around the room and found him not to be present. Gertie beamed beside her, letting go of the gong to bash to the floor so she could clasp her hands before her collarbones in delight. Nobody reacted to the sound, save Ham, who flinched.

Grandpa Phil had a grin growing unflinchingly on his face, and a laugh escaped him a second before he reigned it in and managed to ask, "Oh, and, whatever did you get him, Amanda?"

"A rainbow tie," she chirped, holding the box closer to herself as she looked down at it with anticipation. "Mommy helped me pick it out. She said he can use it for his new job at Grandpa Bob's store, since he got fired from the last one… We didn't know what his favorite color was, so we got him all of them!" She practically bounced, on the tips her toes in anxiousness, and everyone's eyes dampened from the effort not to break down in laughter. Helga's lips parted in a toothy smirk that she flashed at them all, and Grandpa Phil had to run a bony hand down the side of his face to pull himself together.

"Is that so?" he chuckled, eyes twinkling as he sent a raised eyebrow at his granddaughter-in-law. She just grinned.

"Why, yes," she smoothly affirmed, "I did land him a new job. Unloading boxes and whatnot. We thought he ought to look his best. Call it my Christmas present to all of you." She glanced down to examine a nail that had broken off at the tip, and picked at it a little absentmindedly, a wonderful, awful smile still spread across her lips. "He's sure to be a hit with Big Bob."

Everyone lost it at that, and of course this was the moment Big Bob decided to stroll back in from his visit with the loo, still in the process of trying to master his pants. Upon all the eyes that flew to him that were then instantly overwhelmed with mirth, Big Bob dropped his hands to his sides and scowled defensively. "What?"

"Nothing," Helga chirped, grinning much too brightly for it to be any sort of reassurance to him.

"We're doing Secret Santa," Phil had mercy on him, twisting around in his seat to look at him without expression. Big Bob just blinked.

"Well," Arnold said quickly, coughing out one last laugh before he walked over to grab a small bag out from underneath the coffee table, "who wants to go first then?"

"Ooooh!" Zack started jumping up and down, grinning in jest. "Me! Me! Pick me!" Pam tensed, taking a swift step away. Grandpa Phil grinned at the display.

"Zack," Arnold said patiently, nodding his head at him. "Who did you get?"

"Pamella," he answered, a bit too giddily as he produced a long, cylinder-like parcel from the inside of his shirt. Pam snapped her eyes over to him in horrified shock, but before she could say anything against it he had already made a small show of offering it down to her, bowing his head. She was too stunned to do anything for a few painful seconds, but the all-encompassing realization that literally every eye in the room was on her made her grab the gift from his hand and quickly shred the paper off of it, just wanting to get it over with. All the while, she grumbled, "Of course I had to get the unibrow. There goes this entire trip." Zack smirked, being the only one close enough to hear.

With the snowflake wrapping paper all ripped and torn at their feet, all that was left was a bottle with a long, golden nozzle. She stared at it a long moment, before she threw her head over to him and deadpanned, underlined with skeptical fury, "You got me hair dye?"

Zack had been looking at the bottle in her hand with a small smile, and at the sound of the attitude in her voice, he snapped his eyes to hers. Rather than being affronted however, he just grinned brighter and nodded his head. "Uh-huh." He reached over to tap the label. "Dark auburn. Only about a shade or two over from your…" his eyes shifted to her hair, and he paused, "charming red." He met her eyes again, still smiling, as if he'd done nothing wrong. Pam steamed silently, nearly shaking from the urge to punch him in the face. He either didn't notice or didn't care, 'cause he went on, "I figured the transition from red to brown would be a lot easier than red to blue, like I'd suggested before. See? I thought it over for your convenience." He clasped his hands together in front of himself and rocked on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome."

Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Her breathing quickened, and she rationalized. Too many witnesses. Kill him later. Resigning herself to this made her feel slightly better, and she forced out a strained, "Thanks… Zack." She coughed, attempting to muffle over the "ass" part, and Zack looked all the more satisfied. She wondered if he'd even heard her, or noticed… anything. Was he dense? Surely not. But then again he was an idealist to the point of outright denial, so maybe he was just choosing not to notice.

Lovely.

"Well," Arnold, once again, was the one to break the tenseness in the room best he could, as he clapped his hands together and smiled. "What an… interesting gift, Zack." He gave a silent look of warning to Zack, who didn't appear to see as his smile didn't falter, and Arnold sighed. He dropped the act and said regularly, "Let's go ahead and get the rest of these opened and over with."

Everyone simultaneously released a breath and jumped at the chance to give their gifts to their Secret Santas, eager to leave the awkward moment behind.

Ernie gave Phil a slingshot and a very sly look that he didn't understand. Phil gave Stella an IOU with the reasoning that, "I'm eleven, I have no money, but I'll be rich someday so you might want to hang onto that," to which Stella had playfully scoffed and said, "I'll be dead by then, I think I'll just use it now for a hug," before forcing him to do just that, much to his chagrin and Arnold and Helga's amusement. Stella gave Helga a shiny, new watch that Helga was sure was exceeding the twenty-five dollar limit but Stella denied at every turn with a very suspicious looking smirk. Helga gave Mr. Hyunh a banana-patterned sweater that matched the wallpaper in his room, and that he liked way too much in her opinion. Mr. Hyunh gave Arnold a blue and orange plaid shirt with a wide toothy grin, and Arnold didn't even attempt to hide his exasperation.

He then gave his dad a nice leather-bound journal, commenting on how he couldn't bear to watch him scribble things down in that dirty old notebook anymore. Miles gave Gertie a kilt, which his father glared at him for. Gertie gave Miriam a snorkel. Miriam gave Grandpa Phil a pocket watch; to which Arnold snorted loudly at and everyone but a very entertained Helga stared at him strangely for. Grandpa Phil gave Big Bob a Fairy Princess make up kit. Big Bob gave Zack a baseball hat, to hide his "unfortunate hair problem," which Pam smirked thoroughly at. Suzie gave Amanda a book of poems. Lola gave Suzie a dress she'd managed to get through her work, and then out of sympathy gave Pam the bracelet on her wrist since she'd been more or less jipped out of the whole thing by Zack's thoughtlessness, which luckily he didn't see. And Ham gave Lola a book he thought she'd enjoy. Which of course left Ham with Oskar for a Secret Santa, by process of elimination, and he found himself wondering not for the first time why he'd let Miles persuade him to come downstairs.

All of which happened in a flurry of pushing, throwing and tearing, before the only person left that hadn't received a gift (besides Ham) was Ernie. Everyone knew who to look to, and which box to look at, and Pam blushed as red as her hair over the attention. Coughing awkwardly, she said, "Right," and walked over to nudge the heavy box in Ernie's direction. "Open it."

Ernie made a grunt-like sound of curiosity at the sheer size of the box, half his eyebrow raised. Large as it was, it was clearly wrapped in a hurry, with strange bunny-people wrapping paper and a bright orange bow, so he had no problem ripping it all off to reveal the plain brown box underneath. The overall package was short and wide (like him), and sloppily taped closed—easily ripped back off. He didn't know what he was expecting, but the shiny green accordion that laid inside was not it. He stared, his jaw gone slack, for a few very long moments, until finally he seemed to gain his wits back and nearly yelled, "No way! How did… How…"

Pam blinked, and a vaguely uncomfortable look settled on her face, before she coughed the awkwardness away and said, "I asked Mr. Shortman what he thought you'd like to get and he mentioned your accordion was kind of old, along with some other things but, well. It's my dad's. Or, was anyway." She smiled.

Ernie stared at it for a few seconds more, before he looked sharply up at her with the response, "I'm pretty sure this is breaking that whole twenty-five bucks thing."

Pam was shaking her head before he'd even finished speaking. "I didn't pay for it. I just told my dad to send it to me. He doesn't have any use for it anymore anyway. He bought it on a whim 'cause he wanted to learn how, and he did, but after that he never played it again." She rolled her eyes. "Better it go to you than sit in his closet."

"Uh-huh." Helga looked her over a bit suspiciously, arms crossed over her chest and back leaned against the arm of the couch beside Phil, who was staring rather intensely again. "Your father sounds like an interesting fellow."

"Yeah, well," Pam coughed, "he definitely had a lot of interests." Her voice lowered. "Most of which he got over fairly quickly, but whatever." She looked down, shuffling her feet.

Helga raised an eyebrow to this, but before she could say anything more, the obnoxiously loud sound of accordion music smashed through the air and made both her and Pam jump.

Mr. Potts grinned enthusiastically and belted out over the instrument, fingers gliding expertly over the keys, "Geez Louise, does this baby have some sound on her or what?"

"It is very loud," Mr. Hyunh loudly complained, pressing his hands over his ears. Big Bob grunted his agreement with a deep, displeased grimace.

Ernie just laughed, "That's the sound of a real instrument!" He stopped playing and grinned at Pam. "Thanks a lot, uh… Pamella, was it?"

Pam nodded and said in a rush, "Call me Pam." Ernie grinned wider at her and nodded. Pam looked down and fiddled with the silver bracelet on her wrist, casting a glance at Lola who smiled just as wide at her, clearly pleased. Pam pursed her lips, smiling with the realization she liked these people. She liked these people a lot.

How the hell they were related to Zack, she'd never know.

Meanwhile Amanda frowned in the doorway of the hall, looking down at the gift box in her hand again before looking behind herself at the staircase. "Um," she murmured, before walking over to stand in front of Helga and lift her glistening eyes to her, " Mommy, when's Oskar going to come down?"

Helga blinked, before her eyes narrowed slightly in concern and she looked over to Suzie. Suzie, standing over by the fire and sharing a toast with Mr. Hyunh, shook her head and smiled slightly, before trying to hide said smile behind her cup. There was a laugh in her voice as she responded to Helga's silent question, "Oh, I'm sure he'll be down soon." Both Ernie and Mr. Hyunh shared a sly look at this, and Helga divided a dubious look amongst them.

"I can go drag him down," Miles offered, already starting to get up from his chair.

"Oh, please do," Ernie snickered.

Before Miles could even make it to the doorway, the sound of heavy footsteps clunking down the staircase reached their ears, and everyone froze. Eyes all darting to the doorway, drinks paused halfway to mouths, they stared as a fat, white-bearded man appeared, dressed in a long red coat trimmed in white with a fat black belt fastened above his belly. With rosy cheeks over the most embarrassed face any of them had ever seen, Mr. Kokoschka stood in full Santa garb and awkwardly laughed, "Ehehehe… Merry Christmas?"

Amanda dropped the gift in her hand in shock and stared, jaw slack, as Helga gawked a few seconds more before shooting her eyes over to Mr. Hyunh and Mr. Potts, who were both currently sporting grins that took up the entire bottom half of their faces.

Before anyone could truly react, however, Phil let out a large snort and raised his slingshot high over the couch, loaded and ready with peppermint hard candy. "Ohhh no, I'm not falling for that again!" He released, and candy after candy pelted Oskar in the chest, stomach, shoulders, face—and it wasn't but two seconds before he was yelling and nervously laughing and ducking behind the wall. "Ehehe, stop it, little boy, you're going to poke Santa's eye out!"

"That's the plan," Phil yelled, one eye clenched shut as he aimed and fired again, this time watching as the hard candy shattered against the wall where Oskar ducked. Ernie, standing beside Mr. Hyunh now with a look of smug, stated in deep satisfaction, "Best gift I ever gave." Suzie gasped and grunted with each candy that hit home, wincing and grimacing the whole time for her poor husband.

"Phil!" Amanda gasped, racing over to tug his arm back before he could seriously injure her hero. "Stop it! Stop!"

Phil seethed, yanking his arm back from her grasp so he could reload. "Don't get involved with this, 'manda, this is bigger than the both of us!" Zack coughed to conceal a mutter of, "That's not saying much," from his position by Grandpa Phil and the old man snickered slightly, hiding it the best he could behind his hand.

Just as Phil was aiming and ready to hit Oskar Clause square in the face, Amanda rounded the couch and jumped in way of his slingshot, just as he was about to release. Phil yelped in shock and quickly reaimed, sending the candy smashing against the ceiling and making everyone instinctually jump. Small particles of mint rained down on Amanda and stuck in her hair, but she just continued to stare steadfastly into Phil's gobsmacked face.

The next second Phil was throwing his slingshot down and yelling in rage, "Amanda Faith, move this instant and never do that again! I could have killed you! Do you have any idea how hard this stuff is? It's like bullets!"

"No!" she cried. "I'm not moving until you promise to stop hurting Santa!"

Phil looked livid, but just as he was opening his mouth to retort a tear suddenly fell from Amanda's eye and trailed down her cheek. Phil blanched, his passion twisted features instantly falling into destitution.

Helga looked horrified, and ran forward to envelop her daughter in a swift embrace. Amanda clung to her, and Helga shushed her quietly, rubbing her back as comfortingly as she could. She shot a fearsome look over to Ernie and Mr. Hyunh then, who both went pale and looked properly abashed. Oskar remained hidden in the doorway, looking a cross between utterly terrified and lost to agitation.

Before any words could be spoken in the tense atmosphere, there was a knocking on the door.

Nobody looked particularly willing to go answer it, though. Everyone stood for a long moment in nervous indecision, all knowing someone had to go answer it, before Zack cleared his throat and silently volunteered, wanting to be of use, even as he didn't feel right about leaving his sister in such a state. Even still, he selfishly wanted to get away from the uncomfortable atmosphere and scathing looks of his mother, and he fled the room in a run.

After watching her son out, Helga spoke in a hushed tone to the room, "No more games here, capiche? No pranks, no schemes, no fighting. Not on Christmas." She sent a sharp look to Hyunh and Ernie as she said this final part, tight-lipped and strict. Arnold walked over to put a supportive hand to his wife's back, hoping to calm her down. It worked. Her shoulders eased a bit and Amanda poked her eyes up over one to peek at him, all the while having a view of the doorway. Footsteps could be heard getting closer.

Soon the smiling, kindly face of Sophie Carpenter was in the doorway. With her inky black hair falling over her shoulders like water, and her regularly tanned face pale and flushed from the cold, she made a lovely sight. Her light crystal eyes were overbright upon entering the room, and she was in the process of pulling off a pair of leather gloves when her eyes came to land on the stricken faces and rigid statures that occupied the room. She stopped dead. Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked a couple times, staring at them all. They stared back. Finally, she asked, "I'm sorry, did I come at a bad time?"

Zack came to stand beside her and slung an arm around her shoulders in reassurance, kissing her temple. "Not at all, babe. No time can be bad with you."

Sophie's eyebrows were high on her forehead as she came to notice Mr. Kokoschka cowering a few inches away, and she shot an alarmed look between Mr. and Mrs. Shortman. "Is there anything I can help with?" She slipped politely out of Zack's arm and sent him a quick smile, finishing her task of pulling her gloves off as she walked further into the room.

Both Arnold and Helga opened their mouths at the same time to reply, when Amanda, near to bursting, forgot all about her previous upset and waved her arms at their guest. "Sophie!" she squealed, positively beaming.

Sophie grinned back and held her arms out in welcome, which Amanda eagerly tried to jump into. Sophie just chuckled and pulled her into her arms, giving her a tight hug. Helga laughed at this development and clapped her hands at the two. "Oh, yeah, great, steal my kid, why don't ya?"

Sophie chuckled warmly, sharing a conspiratory look with Amanda as she answered, "Never, Mrs. Shortman, the thought has never crossed my mind." She winked to the little girl, who promptly burst into a fit of giggles.

Everyone looked properly relieved by this, and resumed conversation amongst themselves, the room falling back into comfortable warmth just as quickly as it had stunted. Ernie and Mr. Hyunh chattered amongst themselves energetically, with Suzie adding in her two cents here and there with a feisty tapping of her foot. Stella placed a hand on Phil's shoulder as Miles tried to bring him out of his stupor and quell his fresh abhorrence with Sophie's now being in the room. Ham stood awkwardly in the corner, getting an impromptu palm reading from his great-grandmother and once again questioning his choices in life. Grandpa Phil meanwhile seemed more than content to watch the proceedings from his chair, sipping at eggnog and snickering under his breath. And Pam—naturally—was standing in awestruck elation, because, holy crap, there was a girl her age here now. Someone she could actually relate to. That hardly ever happened.

"Thanks for your service, Sophie." Arnold grinned, ever pleased with his son's choice in girlfriend.

"Oh, it's never any trouble. Whatever you need me for." She smiled, rocking side to side with Amanda in her arms. Zack was standing in the doorway staring when he snapped out of it and decided to try to join in the conversation. She was his girlfriend, after all—she wasn't dating his parents. She was dating him.

"So, Sophe," he bounced up to stand beside her, trying to hide how much her display had thrown his emotions in disarray, "how has your Christmas been so far?"

"Oh," Sophie let out a harsh sigh, surprising him. "I've been awake since five AM. There was an emergency or something—I don't know, they had it resolved by the time I got there. And by then we just decided to head out so we could get the toys to the orphanage before anyone woke up. It was exhausting, but I think they had a wonderful Christmas, so I'm very pleased." She grinned at him, the picture of loveliness. Zack felt a pang in his chest.

"I meant with your family," he chuckled, returning her grin teasingly.

Sophie's eyes widened. She looked genuinely surprised for a split-second, and then she let out a faint laugh, embarrassed. "Oh. Well, Mom actually helped with the toy drive, so most of the day was dedicated to that. Then we did stop by the house with Dad to have some hot chocolate and exchange gifts, but it was very brief. I had a few other engagements I couldn't miss." Bouncing a little on her feet and looking kindly at Amanda's happy face, she continued quietly, "This is actually the first moment I've had to breathe all day."

Zack frowned in time with both his parents, and the three blonds stared for a long moment as she swayed and exchanged smiles with Faith. Sophie didn't seem to notice. Finally, Zack said, "Well, what did you get?"

Sophie looked at him blankly. "Get?"

Zack gave a long-suffering sigh, only half-joking in the gesture, before he smiled patiently at her. "From your parents? As in gifts?"

"I got poems!" Amanda chirped excitedly, trying to help along the conversation. Sophie smiled widely at her and retorted, mirroring her excitement, "That sounds like a wonderful gift!"

"Suzie gave it to me." Amanda beamed, her bow falling over into her face. Helga unconsciously reached forward to push it out of the way, feeling a swell of adoration for her.

"I got a hat," Zack laughed, and produced said hat from where it was hanging out of his pants to place it on Sophie's head, grinning mischievously. A burst of air flew past Sophie's lips at the gesture, as a waterfall of black hair crowded both sides of her face, covering her eyes. Amanda giggled and pushed it back up, leaving Zack the happy job of pushing her hair back behind her ears, as her arms were currently engaged. Sophie smiled gratefully at him for it, and he worked hard not to let his softening heart show on his face.

"Well, dang," another voice intervened. This time Zack wasn't able to hide his face, or the grimace that had just taken hold of it. Pam came saddling up between Sophie and him, smiling at Sophie like she was the answer to world hunger. Which, in all reality, she probably was. Something changed in her face then, and she threw her freshly sarcastic eyes over to Zack, smirking ever so slightly. "That's the most action I've seen you get in weeks. You must be so proud. Your fingers tingling like crazy from such strange, foreign contact, Sassy?"

Zack snorted, shooting her a rueful look. "Oh-ho, you just wait. There's some mistletoe in the closet with our names on it."

"In the closet?" Sophie arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I was going to have it be a surprise," Zack stretched his arms out with an eye roll, joking, before he dropped the act for a devilish smirk in her direction. "But what the hey? Merry Christmas."

Sophie just blinked at him, eyebrow still arched, before shifting her eyes over to share a silent look with Pam. While Sophie's face was still for the most part expressionless, Pam held no qualms against showing exactly what her opinion of the matter was on her face. She rolled her eyes full circle and shook her head, her nose wrinkling slightly in distaste. Sophie couldn't help but smile.

"Yes," Arnold cut in flatly, his eyes hooded and glinting with subtle sarcasm towards his son's antics. Helga just smirked, amused. "Well, anyway." He smiled at Sophie, the joke of the moment forgotten. "You haven't said what you got for Christmas yet."

"Oh, well," Sophie reached over to hand Amanda back over to Helga, and lifted the hand still holding her leather gloves up for them to see, "I got some new leather gloves." She chuckled in her throat, the sound really more of an unstable hum. She looked down to her skinny jeans then, pulling her shirt up to show her belt. "And a new belt with some hoisters for my phone, pager, beeper, keys, wallet, band aids—"

"Wow, and what else, the lost city of Atlantis? What don't you have?" Pam looked at her incredulously.

Sophie graced her with a wide smile. "A sandwich. I haven't eaten in hours." Looking almost ashamed, she threw a look over to Mr. and Mrs. Shortman and quietly asked, her voice low and sultry even as she wasn't trying to make it so, "You wouldn't happen to have some food lying around here, would you?" Zack's eye twitched.

"We would." Arnold smiled warmly, gesturing a long arm out towards the kitchen. "Veggie sub and gingerbread cookies?"

"Sounds perfect," Sophie breathed in relief, and began following Arnold out of the room. She stopped, though, for just a moment to glance over towards the couch, feeling eyes on her back. Her eyes came in direct contact with sharp green, but rather than being uncomfortable with Phil's blatant staring, she smiled brightly and waved. "Hey, Phil. How's that flower I gave you?"

Just before she continued walking and disappeared into the doorway, he managed to answer, darkly, "It died." He glared at her retreating back, and muttered beneath his breath, "Yeah, you'd better run."

Zack stared after her as well, though with a much different expression, before one of his more characteristic grins burst onto his face and he bounced slightly, looking at his mother and sister. "I'm glad she was able to make it."

"Oh, I'm sure you are," Helga snorted, the broad smirk that had been inhabiting her face for the entirety of the exchange undimmed. "Mistletoe in the closet indeed. You mind if your father and I borrow this mystical closet afterwards? It sounds like a hoot."

Zack's face twisted in mortification. "Gross, Mom. We don't need anymore siblings."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Who said anything about siblings?"

"Pee-wee Herman over here, probably," Pam smirked, pointing a discreet finger out from her clasped hands towards what she was referring. "Guys minds are eternally skipping all the bases and skidding straight into the gutter."

Zack gaped at her, affronted. "Well, excuse me for trying to make a joke," he sniffed, his lets shifting subconsciously.

Amanda looked amongst them all, confused.

"Can I come in now?" Oskar Clause asked warily, sticking his head around the doorway to glance around.

Phil shouted "No," at the same moment Amanda firmly stated, "Yes," and Oskar looked between the two frantically. Helga just rolled her eyes and waved him over. "Come on in, Santa, it's not Christmas without your fat ass shagging around." Pam slapped a hand over her mouth quickly to smother her laugh.

As Oskar walked in and Helga served as his bodyguard, she shot a quick look to Zack. He understood, and grabbed Pam's arm so he could pull her in his brisk walk over to stand at the back of the couch. Distracting Phil while Mr. Kokoschka was tending to Amanda wasn't difficult, as all Zack had to do to capture his attention was to casually state within hearing distance, looking at Pam, "I think my only regret this year was that Sophie couldn't visit more often." He pursed his lips tight against a smirk as Phil predictably snapped his head around to glare at him.

Pam didn't get it, however, and slapped his hand away from her arm in disgust, which she quickly tried to cover up with a joking, "Ah, come on, Brow, one of you has earn the bacon out of the two of you if you're gonna get married, and it certainly isn't going to be you."

To her total surprise, both Zack and Phil snorted in unison at that. She'd only known the two of them a few weeks, but it had quickly become her impression that they never agreed on anything, ever, as a rule, so she was naturally taken aback by the smirk the two brothers exchanged, as if they found something immensely entertaining.

Phil was the first one to speak, in his usual droll fashion, "While I agree Zack is doomed to be a freeloading loser," Zack shot him a look that was utterly ignored, save the widening of Phil's smirk, "Sophie can't hold down a job to save her life. She'll be busy undoubtedly, but just as much a penniless loser as Zack."

Pam raised an eyebrow at this. Her first instinct was to defend her new friend, but she didn't, mainly because her experience with Zack had made her warier than usual of assumptions. Zack had judged her immediately based on the color of her hair, and she'd judged him by his popularity—of course, she'd reprimanded herself upon reading his poem and decided to give him a second chance, but he'd utterly shot that and reinforced her loathing, and now she found herself stuck with an intense dislike that drove a deep soul-defining urge to tease the hell out of him, even while doing her best to remain civil. Her first instinct wasn't usually to be hateful, but something about Zack brought it out in her. Still, she was trying to get along with him, and so far she hadn't killed him. Yet.

She had always liked Sophie, though. She doubted anyone could dislike her, and anyone who claimed so was merely a victim of jealousy. Even after her ditching her for dating Zack, and then becoming friends with the very same Zack on a deal and thus making her an extreme hypocrite, and then trying to reestablish the bud of friendship with her, Sophie was perfectly understanding, if not a bit amused by the whole affair. She seemed to have a deep sense of self-assurance in her—not like Zack's obnoxious egotism, but just a subtle confidence that flowed around her like a calming breeze. With her poise, drive and passion, Pam thought she'd be able to undertake any job that came her way with ease.

And yet, Zack shocked her, "Sophie'll never be a loser, Phil. But I will admit, her goodness can definitely be a flaw at times. She doesn't understand the concept of business." He chuckled slightly, as if he found it endearing and embarrassing at the same time. "She's gotten fired from so many jobs, I've lost count."

"Fifty-seven," Phil drawled.

Zack shot him the fish-eye as Pam blinked in confusion. "What does she do?"

Phil replied before Zack could, taking obvious joy in the topic, "She gives the merchandise away." He snickered then in the most startlingly malicious way, and Pam was struck by his sheer, unblushing hatred of Sophie. He had no reason to be jealous of her, though—and she didn't appreciate being proven wrong. How could anyone hate someone that disarmingly kind? It made little sense. Still, he went on, "Just last month, she was working at that old flower shop two blocks over, and any time someone took an interest in the front displays, she'd think to herself, 'Oh, it's just a few flowers, it couldn't hurt,' and hand them over. Next thing anyone knew, she'd given away two batches." Pam's eyebrows flew high.

Looking back to Zack, she noted with amusement that he had his head thrown in his hands. For a second she thought he was genuinely ashamed, but when he lifted his head up the slightest bit to glance at her she saw that his eyes were glazed over with laughter. He opened his mouth for a second, as if trying to say something, before closing it abruptly and throwing his head back into his hands, his shoulders shaking. Pam couldn't help but cough out a laugh or two herself, the energy contagious.

Finally Zack seemed to get a grip, and he threw his head back up with a hasty suck of air, before stating simply, though still clearly amused, "Sophie helps people. But she doesn't know how to help herself. It's adorable. It's not just the jobs either—she has all sorts of bites and marks on her arms and legs because she refuses to kill bugs."

"Zack has fire ant scars on his feet from one time he was out with her and she wouldn't let him kill them," Phil said cheekily.

"The things I do for love." Zack shook his head.

"Well, for Pete's sake, if all that's true, why are you dating her?" Both Zack and Phil snapped their eyes onto her, and she met Zack's look skeptically. "If she's got that many problems, it sounds to me like she needs to be with someone completely self-serving." Her eyes lit up then, and she smirked, shooting a look over to Phil. "Maybe you should date her."

For a split second he looked positively gobsmacked, then offended, then repulsed, and finally his face settled on horrified. Pam couldn't resist laughing at the extreme reaction and slapped her hands over her mouth to keep the volume down best she could.

It was to no avail, as Big Bob, who had been grumbling boredly to his wife nearby, heard the commotion and looked over. It didn't take long after that for him to decide he should be taking part in whatever was so amusing, and he began walking in their direction.

Neither Zack nor Phil noticed this however, and Zack began to get very defensive, his unibrow furrowing low. "Sophie's too good for someone like Phil, Pam. Why would you even suggest something like that? And while I'm right here, no less? She's my girlfriend."

Phil seemed to snap out of his horror at this, and his eyes caught fire in a very dangerous way that Zack didn't have the presence of mind to be concerned over. "Too good for someone like me? What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, please, Phil." A quick sigh escaped Zack's lips as he rolled his eyes, as if he expected better of him to even ask. "Besides the obvious fact you're the most unromantic person on the face of the planet, you're selfish, rude, socially inept, and just plain boring. You know I love you, you're my baby brother, but you're always saying honesty is the best policy so let's be honest here."

"Boring?" Phil all but squeaked in indignation. Big Bob was standing but a few feet away, but still neither noticed him. Pam looked between the two in concern, wary of the stout, bulking man.

Zack shrugged, looking at him levelly. "Well, yeah. I mean, you spend your days doing nothing but watching TV, you watch movies in black and white, you listen to the most mind numbing music, you read books that were written centuries ago that nobody reads anymore, and… hell, Phil, I can't even think of anything else. You don't really do anything."

"I don't do anything?" he seethed, rising up from the couch to turn around and lean over the back of it towards him, his jade eyes two clumps of slitted coal. He harshly retorted, "As opposed to doing what? What you do? Run all over the place like an obnoxious cur with people you barely even know? Listen to tasteless screaming that only pretends it's music by make-up wearing freaks that smash instruments for sport and don't even know what a shirt is, or a haircut, or a breath mint? Just because I do things that you and your grain of sand for a brain can't understand doesn't mean I'm boring."

"Uh, you guys," Pam said nervously, staring straight into the stone face of Big Bob Pataki.

Zack ignored her, too busy staring incredulously at his furious little brother. "Obnoxious cur?"

"You heard me."

"No, I really don't think I did." Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood high and proud as he replied, "You didn't need to go on insulting me, Phil, I was just trying to respectfully explain why you and a girl like Sophie would never work."

"By calling me selfish, rude and boring? And then going on to tell me exactly why you think I'm boring? What does any of that have to do with incompatibility?" Zack rolled his eyes very plainly at all that and Phil raised his voice slightly, "Most of those—according to you and Pamella over here anyway—are the antithesis of Sophie's 'good hearted selflessness,' and if what they say about opposites attracting is true, then you just explained why we would be perfect for each other." Rising a little higher on the couch with his arms locked, he said tartly, "And just for the record, just because something's old doesn't mean it's boring. Some old things are great. Way better than any of the crap television and music companies are vomiting out nowadays!"

"Guys…" Pam tried a little louder.

Once again, she was ignored, and Zack actually almost looked mad. Amusement seemed to be the dominant emotion in his expression, but everything in his body language bespoke his defense. "Okay, fine then, Phil! Is this all your way of saying you want to steal Sophie away from me?" He held back a laugh.

Once again, horror was etched into every crevice of the young boy's face. "I would rather get eaten by a hoard of rabies-infested wildebeests!"

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much?"

"I am not a lady!"

"For Pete's sake, you idiots, shut up!"

Zack let out a sharp cackle and reached up to ruffle his hair so some strands fell over his right eye. Then suddenly he was declaring, waving his arms around, "Oh, look at me, I'm Phillip Shortman and I strut around talking about how much I hate girls even though I secretly am one! Who wants to sing show tunes and act out every scene from Macbeth with me before crying ourselves to sleep over how perfect Humphrey Bogart is?"

For one terrifying moment it looked like Phil was literally going to explode. His face was bright red, his arms trembling, and it looked to Pam like he was only seconds away from having smoke blow out his ears. But then all that changed, and he was grinning bright and his eyes were wide and giddy, his tone slippery as he mocked, "Oh, and I'm Zachary Shortman, at your service. But please, call me Zack, since Zachary is way too long and I don't think I trust you with that many syllables. By my introduction I'm sure you've figured out already I'm an arrogant, self-obsessed loser who thinks he's way more clever than he actually is, but why don't I just beat that fact into your skull a couple hundred more times before lunch? You can watch me have sexual tension with that water fountain over there and listen to me tell you about how charming I am with my horse face and marker smear for an eyebrow."

Both Zack and Pam stared at him in jaw-dropped silence. And then Pam lost it and doubled over, crying into the fabric of the couch as she laughed like a hyena. The dramatic response seemed to snap Zack out of it enough to ask, dumbstruck, "Since when do you know what sexual tension is?"

Pam turned her head out of her arms slightly to peer at him, and laughed out in disgust, "How can that be what you got out of that?"

"Because I swear two months ago he was as clueless as a newborn. Oh, Phil, please tell me you haven't been googling things you ought not. Tell me you just heard the phrase on television and thought it sounded cool." Phil just blinked at him.

Pam slammed her head against the couch. "Idiot."

Zack shot a look at Pam's slumped over state, his mouth quirked high in one direction, before his eyebrow narrowed almost into a V and he pulled his pants up high, sucking in a large breath. "Okay, point taken. You want to play it that way, little man? Well game on." He cleared his throat in a purposely obnoxious manner before making his face as flat as possible. His voice dropped into a derisive drone, "Hi, I'm Phil, and I know I've only known you for five seconds, but I already hate your guts. Don't let my height fool you. On the inside, I'm an eighty-three year old man and if you come anywhere near my lawn I'll scream so loud your ears explode."

Phil narrowed his eyes, and smirked so hard it almost looked like a sneer. "Yeah? Well, I'm Zack and I love everything and everybody no matter what. I have unrealistic expectations and am blindly optimistic about everything the world has to offer. I'm probably going to get murdered one day in a back alley but that's okay, 'cause violence is for the weak and I'm too good to participate in that drivel anyway." He sniffed pompously, holding his nose high.

"You sound like a pretty swell guy, Zack, but I'm Phil so I'm afraid no matter what topic you try to broach, I'll emo it up and make you really uncomfortable. Ope, what's that you say? Kittens? Rainbows? Rainbows are the product of light reflected off of filthy rainwater and kittens are nothing but fluffy rats. And while I'm at it, may I just say that you have offended me in ways you can't even begin to comprehend by trying to have a pleasant conversation with me. Good day, sir. I must go and sit in a dark corner now and listen to sad jazz tapes and contemplate all the reasons I hate humanity." Pam slammed her head into the couch again, shaking with laughter. Phil saw this and instantly tensed up, working hard not to scowl.

"Really? 'Cause I'm Zack and I'm a lying, dimwitted simpleton with nothing better to do with my time than twist words around in my favor and stick my nose in other people's business 'cause I think I know everything!"

Zack's squinted his eyes at him and pursed his lips very hard for just a second, before bursting out, "I'm Phil and all the voices in my head sound like Ben Stein! Unless I forget to take my medication, then they're all Woody Woodpecker! Want to see me lose my nut? Just mention girls! I dare you—no, I implore you. I love to give two-hour long lectures on pointless topics nobody wants to hear about." He snapped his feet together and arms to his sides, before yelling in a hush, "Girls are all evil! Love is a lie! I realize I'm only a kid but I've made a serious breakthrough and I must inform the masses!" He placed a fist under his chin, smiling as if he were having a pleasant conversation. "Did I mention I like to belittle my older and infinitely more attractive brother for thinking he knows everything, even though I'm the exact same way?" Zack smirked, and Phil broke character at this and reeled back, his face twisted in revulsion.

"Okay, okay, okay," Pam cried suddenly, pushing herself back up so she could grin at the two of them. "Let me do one now!" She cleared her throat, before stating in the pleasantest of tones, her voice clear and artificial, like a woman advertising diarrhea medication on TV, "Hi, I'm Arnold Shortman and I'm the nicest person in the universe. I have a perfect wife and giant family and we do everything together 'cause we're flawless. And if even one of my sons offends you in the slightest way and threatens that, I'll invite you into my social circle and treat you like royalty, because I am the embodiment of all that is good and kind." She fluttered her eyelashes. Phil stared at her.

"No! No, no, no, you did him all wrong." Zack gave a rapid back and forth of his head before clearing his throat, and looking down on her with gentle eyes and a hand to his chest. "Allow me." He took in a deep breath, before leveling his shoulders out rigidly and crossing his arms over his chest. The act was completed with a faintly tapping foot. "Zachary Shortman, what do you think you are doing trying to have a social life? I know I'm about as intimidating as a butterfly but maybe if I look at you hard enough and say your full name enough times, you'll finally just burst into flames. Then you'll never be able to do anything I don't like again."

This little speech elicited a snort from Pam and an eye roll from Phil. "You have a very warped image of Dad."

"I see what I see what I see." He chuckled, letting his arms drop to his sides. At Phil's continued expression of subtle disdain, he smirked very prominently and added, "Well, fine then, let's see your interpretation."

"No," he said flatly.

"Why not?"

"I don't think it was appropriate to even introduce him into the conversation." He flashed a look on Pam, making her blush slightly under his intense stare. "Especially not on Christmas and with a guest. Dad doesn't deserve it."

Zack's eyebrow flew skyward. "Oh, and I do?"

"Well, obviously."

Zack snorted and extended his arms out at his sides. "Please! Dad's not gonna get mad or anything. He knows how to laugh at himself. He needs to being married to Mom—speaking of which, I can do a killer impression of Mom. Check this out." He reached up to flatten his hair out and smirked, raising his voice into an overexaggerated falsetto, "Hiya, I'm Helga G. Shortman and you'd better not let me catch you doing anything bad because I'll introduce you to Betsy and the Five Avengers faster than you can say purple pumpernickel." He let out a shrill, girlish laugh.

"Betsy and the what?" Pam raised an eyebrow. Meanwhile Phil was in the process of thoroughly palming his face.

Zack broke the act to laugh openly, his hand still holding the top of his head. "Five Avengers. And before you ask, no, I don't know what that means."

Phil stunted for a second upon hearing this, before he whipped his hands off his face and shot him a look of disbelief. "They're her fists."

Zack stopped dead at that, and looked at him wide-eyed. "They are?"

"Yes. I can't believe you didn't know that."

"It just never registered…" He blinked, his mind blown. His mouth slowly opened, a hundred realizations hitting him all at once, the force of which caused his hand to drop off of his head and flop to his side. "Ohhhh… wow… It all makes sense now." He became suddenly animated and grabbed at his head, startling both parties. "My whole life is a lie!"

"Yes," Phil responded in accordance, calmly. "Yes it is."

"Whoa, whoa, your mom names her fists?" She blinked incredulously, meanwhile shooting looks at where Bob was standing not a few steps behind Zack, trying to look casual even though to anyone watching it was obvious he was listening in on their conversation. He must be truly bored to be seeking entertainment in the form of two teenagers and a preteen but there it was. She felt an odd sense of comradery with the man at this point, being the only one to know of his presence. That probably wasn't wise but whatever.

Phil smirked at her question, clearly proud of this fact. "Yeah."

"Is nobody gonna comment on how dead on my impression was?" Zack raised his voice over their conversation.

Phil let out a sound snort at that and repliedl, "Your impression of Mom is weak at best. You only think you can do a good impression of her because you look just like her."

"He does?" Pam blinked at Phil, then at Zack, and looked at him very intensely. She tilted her head to the side. Then the other side. And pursed her lips. "I don't know. I don't really see it. I mean, they have the same eyes, complexion, and hair color, but other than that I'd say he's much too ugly."

Zack's lashes fluttered against an expressionless face, as if his brain didn't know how to process a comment like that.

"Are you kidding?" Phil gaped at her. "They're both tall, long-legged, bug-eyed—" he coughed, "I mean, big-eyed, in Mom's case—they talk in a very similar fashion, they smirk the same way, Zack has her unibrow…" He shook his head at the floor, as if he found it a pity. "Zack's like a newer, male, over-vamped version of Mom. Only instead of being an improvement, he downgraded, continues to get worse as time goes on, and consistently brings disgrace to the entire family."

"Wait, what?" Pam shot him a look of shock. "He got the unibrow from your mom?" A picture of the pretty blue-eyed woman flashed in her mind, and her eyes seemed only capable of growing wider at the moment. She tried to picture the woman with a unibrow but it just didn't seem to fit.

Phil blinked at her, his face blank and voice toneless, "You seem to have an innate ability at missing the point."

"Oh-ho-ho, okay, hold the phone for just a second here…" Zack rejoined the conversation unexpectedly, looking at Pam with a look of disturbance and unmasked derision. "Did she just call me ugly?"

"And you're unnaturally slow today. Okay, my patience is spent. This conversation's over." Phil turned back around and flopped back into sitting on the couch, before standing up and walking calmly out of the room.

Pam watched him go, and stared off in doorway he'd disappeared into for a few seconds, before looking back to Zack. "Your mom doesn't really have a unibrow, does she?"

Zack looked at her stonily. His reply was a terse, "Yes. She shaves."

"Like every morning? Next to your dad?"

"I don't know."

"Does she wax it then? Tweezers? Lasers?"

"Like I said, I don't know."

"How do you know she has one then?"

"Pictures."

"So you've never actually seen it?"

"I have."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"Is it really thick and luxurious like yours?"

"I guess, I—Are you asking me these questions just to get on my nerves?"

"Well, duh." She grinned.

"Great," Zack let out a slow breath, trying to summon his patience back. His shoulders went stiff suddenly then, and he began slowly backing away. His eyes focused resolutely on her chin. "I think Phil had the right idea. I'll go see what's keeping Sophie so long." And just like that, he had turned around and was gone, leaving her and her cheeky expression in the past, for now. Pam beamed at his retreating back, relieved to finally have that experience over with. She still found it funny that he was so determined to be on pleasant terms with her even though he clearly didn't like her. She continued to hang around him and Jaron at school purely because she was still somewhat new and wasn't really acquainted with anyone else, but he rarely addressed her unless he absolutely had to, and when he did it was often only in short intervals and always joking. Sometimes he had trouble even looking her in the eye, which she gave him a tough time about just… 'cause she could. It was a pathetic little excuse for a friendship they had, but there it was.

Ironically, the blustery, bad-tempered Phil had spoken to her more like a human than his older brother had—or ever had, really. After her past experiences with him she'd expected him to automatically despise her, especially after the intense way he'd taken to staring at her when she was around, but so far all she'd seen from him was the occasional look of annoyance and amusement. She didn't know why he wouldn't hate her. Based on Zack's assessments of him, he hated girls. All girls. As a rule. She fell under the category of girl, didn't she? Of course she did. There was no reason he shouldn't hate her. So why the hell didn't he?

Okay, wait. Was she actually getting offended over an eleven-year-old not hating her? Where had her sense run off to this time?

But then again, he did seem to like that she irritated Zack. Maybe he thought they were on the same side or something? The 'I Hate Zack' club? Not too many people seemed to dislike him, so maybe he thought of it as a really rare, admirable trait in a person. Enough so that he was willing to overlook her gender in order to have someone to share his dislike with. So… he looked at her like a unicorn. A hateful unicorn.

It was an unlikely notion, but it was the only thing she could think of that made any sense.

But, whatever the reason, she was just glad that the two of them were gone. Now that she was alone, she could dedicate her time to speaking with some more agreeable people. Like Mr. Hyunh. She'd wanted to talk to him for weeks now. She'd downloaded "The Simple Things" on her iPod a couple weeks ago for just such an occasion, and she had an autograph book with his name on it. Or rather, it would have his name on it. Very soon.

In her eagerness, she completely forgot about Big Bob and his odd lurking behavior, and didn't think twice about the fact he was no longer anywhere to be seen.

Despite the rocky beginning, Helga had to hand it to him. Oskar did a decent job pretending to be Santa. The 'ehehehes' were exchanged for 'ohohohos' and thanks to his freakish love of food that rivaled even Harold's, he didn't need the fat suit to look the part. It was strange, though—she hadn't been informed of any random Santas showing up today. She knew he'd been working at the mall downtown as the Santa Clause, of course, and she had nagged Arnold into nagging him into dressing up for Christmas, but he'd given a very whiny "No" as his answer so this was definitely unexpected. Not the bad, "I just lost my job again and need you to lend me money" kind of unexpected like she'd come to associate him with, either. Not that that happened very often, of course—or at least not as much anymore.

Oskar would always be Oskar, after all, but the years had definitely changed him for the better. Suzie had been on the verge of divorcing him (again) when Helga had come onto the scene, freshly engaged to Arnold Shortman and moved into the Sunset Arms.

His gambling addiction had always been well-known to anyone who spent more than five minutes in his presence, but nobody cared enough to really call him out on it, save Arnold a few times over the years when he'd gotten particularly exasperated. Oskar would often agree that he did have a problem and that he would do better in the future, but then go on to bet the microwave and DVD player in a game of Go Fish. Ordinarily Helga had little tolerance for that kind of bullshit, and she had resolved herself to totally ignore him – Arnold's family or not – but one day she'd caught him looking very defeated at the bottom of the stairs, and he looked up at her with the most forlorn expression she'd ever seen.

Oskar was the type of person to rely on people's pity, and Helga was the type to not care two wits about anyone unless she felt they were truly worthy of her time, so the puppy dog eyes did little to move her. She supposed that had always been the problem with Mr. Kokoschka—everyone always either ignored him, yelled at him, or took pity on him, and though normally Helga would have just spit on him and gone on her merry way, in that moment she found that she couldn't.

He was just as pathetic as her. Just in a different way. And try as she might, she couldn't deny that he did try. According to her fiance's past stories of him, he'd worked hard on his paper route, worked hard to learn how to read, loved his nephew to death, and let his wife keep the money from time to time. She thought that a part of him clearly wanted to be good, but he just didn't know how. Like her.

Likening herself to Mr. Kokoschka had made her want to fling herself off the nearest skyscraper, but it was at that moment she decided she was sick and tired of him and she wasn't going to deal with seeing him and Suzie at odds anymore. After so many years of marriage, he obviously wasn't going anywhere. Suzie loved him despite what a douche bag he was and though Oskar didn't always act like it, he obviously loved her too. Whether anyone liked it or not, he was a part of the family, so if she was going to be stuck with him for the rest of forever, she decided she was going to whip him into shape. Besides, if everyone had taken one look at her, declared her a lost cause and walked away, she'd still be screaming at people and crying herself to sleep. She couldn't in good conscience leave him. Not without at least giving him a chance.

She cursed Arnold every day for that.

But then of course there was the fact she really loved Suzie and hated to see her stuck with such a loser, so there was that too.

Dr. Bliss had moved upstate long ago for one reason or another, so she'd had to seek out someone else for help on her project. And so, it was through a lot of hunting and performance reviews that she found Dr. Viksten, a marriage counselor who had had a lot of experience with "Oskar's kind." Suzie had been reluctant at the idea, but agreed to try if Oskar would pay for half of the costs, which basically meant he'd have to quit the paper route and get a real job. She hadn't expected him to actually do it, but three weeks later he was working in a tie factory. It was repetitive, menial work, easy to do but mind-numbing, and Oskar had whined a lot and cried that he hated it.

He went anyway. He eventually got fired, but he did go, which was a huge improvement (even if Helga was often the one grinding her teeth and daring him to go against her). And thus began a long chain of him gaining and losing jobs. He managed to pay for his half of the costs most of the time, and then other times found himself making calls and asking for a spare twenty dollars here and there. It was a very long, drawn out, rocky path that he rode on, but as long as Helga was around to glare at him and Dr. Viksten a phone call away, it was also a very effective one. He did treat Suzie better… he didn't treat everyone better, but Suzie was appeased, so Helga was too.

To summarize, Oskar would always be Oskar, but he would also always be a part of the family. That weird, lazy uncle that gave you canned vegetables for gifts, smelled funny, and nobody liked, but a part of the family nonetheless. A part of the family who had dressed up as Santa Clause on Christmas day to make her little girl smile.

Later on she would find out the only reason he did it was because he lost a bet with Ernie and Mr. Hyunh, and her pleasant surprise would melt into smug, sadistic satisfaction, but that was later on. Now she was just happy.

Amanda was eager to hop into his lap and chatter his ear off, and chatter she did. She started off in a string of apologies for her "silly older brother's" actions, which Oskar had responded predictably to—he wouldn't dare veer off script, not with her standing right beside them staring stony-eyed throughout the entire exchange. After the apologies had been extended, Amanda went on to tell him Phil really wasn't so bad and that he shouldn't hold the little mishap against him, to which Helga had broken her severe countenance just to beam at. She was just like her father, always looking for the best in people. Despite the mannerisms she'd picked up from she-who-shall-not-be-named and endless spouts of creampuffy enthusiasm, she could never have been more proud of her little ray of sunshine than at that moment. After all, it was that attitude that had won her Arnold's affections.

After that, she went silent and looked down at her lap, and Oskar asked very nervously, "Ohohoho, what is the matter?"

She looked up at him with big jellybean green eyes and quietly replied, "I can't think of anything that I want."

Oskar went blank-faced at that, and blinked a couple times. He couldn't very well understand that. Finally, he suggested, "Well, maybe you should ask for a peppermint candy. I have lots." He reached up and pulled his hat off, letting loose three of said candies to fall into her lap. He laughed his slippery laugh then as he placed his hat back on, saying, accent heavy, "See? Magic!"

Amanda picked up one of the candies and giggled. Her eyes lit up then with an idea, and she whipped her head at him in excitement. "Oh, I know what I want!"

Oskar relaxed back in the chair, his tone casual, "Oh? What's that?"

She pulled a small wrapped gift out from behind her back and held it up for him to see. "I got this gift for Uncle Oskar but I haven't seen him all day. Do you think you could give it to him for me? And make sure he's okay?"

Her eyes were so wide and earnest that Oskar felt oddly touched. He flicked his eyes over to glance at Helga, then quickly glanced away from her stone-cold face out of anxiety. She wasn't giving anything away. But Amanda was, so he 'ohohohoed' and asked a tad smugly, "You want me to give your old Uncle Oskar a present?"

Amanda nodded, holding the gift up higher for him to take. "And make sure he's all right."

Oskar hesitated only a second before taking the box from her, weighing it with his hand. It was light, small, and short. Definitely not anything very expensive. Humming, he asked, examining the box further as if he could see through the packaging to what lay beneath, "What is it?"

"A tie," she chirped, and Oskar dropped his eyes from the box to her face in disappointment.

"For his new job," Helga's voice came from behind him and made him jump. Snapping his eyes to hers, he found that she was smirking now, in that broad, evil way he'd become so unfortunately accustomed to. "He'll be working at Big Bob's unloading merchandise." Oskar's brain stuttered to a stop at this news and his neck nearly snapped from turning his head so fast in Big Bob's direction. He was standing casually against a wall across the room, his face wrinkled but serious as he gulped down his eggnog before crushing the cup in his fist. Oskar's pupils dilated.

And Helga grinned a grin that wasn't a grin at all. "Merry Christmas, one and all!"

Oskar slammed his head back against the chair with a groan.

The rest of the day went off without further disruption (or at least not any disruption they hadn't already expected). They sang Christmas carols to Ernie's new accordion and Gertie's piano. The Johanssens came over to wish them a Merry Christmas and Jaron and Zack guffawed over how big the tree was, with commentary like, "Now this is Godzilla's Christmas tree!" They ate their dinner over a loud, chaotic table and snorted and made funny conversation over bad Christmas specials. They went outside shortly to throw snowballs at each other at 8 PM while Phil scolded and yelled at them – which resulted in him getting a snowball to the face – before they all rushed back inside to gulp down a gallon of hot cocoa. Mr. Hyunh's daughter and her family showed up at one point in the day to visit and exchange gifts. Pam's brother honked her out of the house to go home not long after the visitors arrived, and Helga was almost as relieved to see her go as Zack was—she'd been giving her the funniest looks all day, and they made her feel very self-conscious for some reason.

Sophie stayed over an hour after Pam left, and talked in friendly, quiet tones to Mr. Hyunh and his daughter. Helga watched Zack stare at her and smirked to herself whenever she saw him try to drag her out of the room. Most likely to that closet he'd been talking about, but Sophie kept finding new people she needed to talk to that stalled the proceedings. If the girl was trying to make Zack crazy, she was certainly doing a good job. Helga mentally applauded her. She left shortly after speaking with Lola on coral reef preservation before looking at her watch and making a hasty departure. Zack had been bummed out ever since, but on the bright side her and Arnold got to test out the closet mistletoe. She made sure to let Zack know it worked great. And the day was an overall success.

Arnold had hem-hawed most of Christmas eve in worry over whether or not today would go well. She'd told him everything would be fine, but hadn't been very forceful with it's delivery, as she knew he had reason to be anxious and there wasn't much she could say. There had been a few disastrous Christmases in their past that had made him wary, what with the Patakis and Shortmans all being under the same roof, but as usual, his worrying was a pointless effort, and of course, she was right.

At present, she stood on the roof of the Sunset Arms, staring down at the snow piled high on the stoop. It had snowed not a half hour before, and Helga had always enjoyed the snow. The air was frisk and biting, her face was no doubt flushed pink and her arms were wet from leaning against the wall, but she loved it. She knew she should probably be getting back inside, that everyone was undoubtedly falling asleep and she should too, but it was the first moment of peace she'd had for three days, and she wanted to take advantage of it.

She didn't know when they'd be heading back home—over the holidays Arnold's family had a knack of convincing them to stay longer than they normally might. They could very well be here for another week, and Helga wanted to brace herself for the impending arguments, yelling and being dragged around the city. Helga had always been more accustomed to silence, as her own home had always been so, but the colorful liveliness of Arnold's family never failed take her breath away. She loved them all dearly, but she valued her alone time, especially since she had gotten married.

Not because she wanted to be away from her husband or kids – hell no (or at least not too much) – but just because, when she was a child, the silence had always been suffocating. She'd hear a blender going, the television on, maybe the occasional argument, but otherwise she was alone and the house was silent and dead, and she'd felt it acutely. Being alone hadn't been pleasant back then, and she'd forced herself to adapt and take advantage of her parents' absence, but now she had the benefit of living in a happy household. Her private time now wasn't because she had no other choice. She had no reason to ever feel lonely or depressed anymore, and hadn't for a long time. No, now her time alone wasn't spent wallowing in self-pity and bitterness or trying to lose herself in thoughts of her beloved, but rather a time for pleasant reflection and lazy musing.

Still, she and her husband shared a mutual appreciation for silence, and had enjoyed many evenings in each other's company either working or reading. They led a very comfortable existence—or at least, they had before she'd gotten pregnant. Silence seemed all the more rare now, and so she found herself seeking it out whenever possible, especially now if she had an adventurous week ahead of her. She needed time to be away from people. Even if those people were her family… Especially if those people were her family. Her lips pursed together unconsciously.

Arnold, with his naturally quiet, thoughtful disposition, didn't take long to join her.

She turned her head after hearing the latch click to see her husband making his way in her direction. She couldn't control the smirk that involuntarily came over her lips at how predictable he could prove to be. "Well, hey there, stranger, you come here often?"

"It's my roof," he replied archly, returning her smirk.

She raised her eyebrows at him, her look unchanging as she watched him saunter his way over to her. "Is that supposed to answer my question?"

She saw him roll his eyes, before he stopped at her side and draped a long coat over her, smoothing the fabric over her shoulders to ensure it stayed in place. Though it smelt of him, it held none of his warmth, and she knew then that he'd gotten it out of the closet for the sole purpose of giving it to her. His concern warmed her more than the coat could ever hope to, and she gave him an affectionate look. He just smiled and squeezed her shoulders before letting her go.

"So…" he leaned against the wall beside her, leaning on his blue-covered arms with his hands clasping together, "pretty crazy day."

She snorted, her eyes rolling over to focus back on the snow below them. "Naturally."

He hummed his agreement, undertone mildly amused, and then all was silent. They stared out over the neighborhood's lights and half-melted snowmen. The streetlights were all bright and giving a good view of the mix of black and white snow below them. Only a few lights remained on in the building across from their own, and amidst their thoughts neither noticed one of those lights click off.

The sound of Arnold taking a deep breath made her look at him. "You did like your gift?"

Helga coughed out an incredulous laugh and turned her back to the wall, shifting to support herself on her elbows as she leaned up against it. She sent him a saucy look as she replied, "Oh, yeah, new jewelry and a night on the town with my favorite husband? I can't wait."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Sarcasm?"

Her look softened. "No."

The smile he was trying to hide broke loose and he reached over to give her a push in the shoulder. "And since when am I your favorite husband? I'm the only one you've got."

Helga gave a mock gasp and slapped a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in shock. "Oh, gosh, did I really say that?" She turned her back to him, and gave a shaky jerk of her head back and forth. Her voice trembled, as if with anxiety, "Oh dear, I didn't want to break the news to you until after Christmas, and especially not like this, but…" she sent a look to him over her shoulder, face half in shadow. "I may have had a little too much fun in Vegas last year."

Arnold seized her from behind and held her tight up against his chest, growling laughingly into her ear, "Impossible. Not my saint of a wife! It can't be true."

"Oh, but it is," she cried in anguish, hiding her eyes behind her hand in shame. "And that week I spent abroad back in college—Oh, I can barely speak of it! I have husbands everywhere, all over the world, and you – you poor clueless sap – can never know the full truth of it! Oh, so many lies—"

"Shhh, shh," he shushed her, pressing his lips against her temple and closing his eyes with a smile. "You'll wake the kids…" She fell quiet at that, and pretended to be tense in his arms. After a long moment of just holding her against him, he asked quietly, a note of hopefulness in his voice, "I'm your favorite?"

Helga barked out a quick laugh before silencing herself quickly. Clearing her throat, she responded in kind, "Of course, my love. You'll always be at the top of the heap."

"What makes me better?"

Helga snapped her head around to look at him skeptically, one eyebrow raised high. "Excuse me?"

He met her eyes evenly. "You heard me. What makes me better?"

She blinked a couple times as she processed this, before a smirk slid slowly onto her lips. "Football Head…" she batted her lashes at him in an exaggerated fashion, her smirk more than a little amused now, "are you asking me to stroke your ego?"

He pursed his lips and looked up momentarily in a show of contemplation, before he met her eyes again and nodded. "I think it's the least you can do."

"Oh, of course, 'cause your head's not nearly big enough."

"Never."

She looked down at his arms encasing her around her middle and toyed with the end of his sleeve. "And you have that pesky male pride to deal with, of course…"

His smirk could be heard in his voice, "Of course."

"And then there's that whole competition with Zack going on—"

"Oh, he won that a long time ago."

Helga snickered under her breath. "Agh, yeah, sorry. Didn't mean to bring up old wounds."

They were both silent for a beat, before he muttered in her ear, "Well?"

Licking her lips, she held tight to his arms and silently wondered when they'd started swaying back and forth. With a wicked grin, she ended his suspense, "Well… let's just say, my many – and I do mean many – dealings with men over the years have given new meaning to the phrase 'It's a small world after all'—"

The swaying came to an abrupt stop and he crushed his forehead against her neck. She could feel his breath coming a little too fast against her back and smirked deviously to herself, squeezing his arms a little in a gesture of support. The next second he was speaking, "Oh, Helga, you didn't—"

"And yet I did, and I know you're not deaf. Don't tell me we're gonna be having denial problems again with you? I don't know if my delicate constitution can deal with that shit a second time."

She heard rather than felt him give a particularly heavy sigh in response, before he lifted his head back up and picked her up into his arms. She squeaked and grabbed tight to his neck, but he just laughed as he carried her back over to the skylight.

"I think I've heard enough for one night," he decided, giving her a very indignantly self-important look. "I've been mocked, teased, outright insulted and informed my wife has on more than one occasion defiled the sanctity of our marriage. That's more than enough, thank you."

She calmed down at his declaration, and looked at him with a wide grin. "Not half bad, huh?"

He rolled his eyes at her and stopped in front of the unlatched window. "Definitely more than half."

"Oh, get off of your high horse, Football Head, I'm sure I can't be the only one who's had a little fun." She played with the top button of his shirt peeking out through his sweater, smirking.

Arnold stopped dead, caught in the process of bending down to unlatch the window, and looked at her with the most concerned expression she thought she'd ever seen on him. She instantly had to hold back a laugh, but his expression remained unchanged by the struggle reflected in her eyes. "Oh, Helga, I could never do that to some poor girl. Her death would be cruel and unusual. No one deserves that."

"Ahhh, Arnold, Arnold…" She shook her head at him, looking at him with an adoring smile. "Nice try, but that's not the correct answer. Although you are right, I'd put every Saw movie to shame if I ever found her."

"Oh? And if that's not the right answer, then what is?"

"Why, 'I worship the ground my eternally flawless and intelligent wife walks on and other women have ceased to exist,' of course."

"So I have to worship you but you get to have an exotic husband collection?"

"Who said anything about exotic?" She shook her hair out and pushed some out of her face. She paused a moment then, her eyes shifting up in intrigue. "Then again, that's not a bad idea. When's our next trip to San Lorenzo?" He jostled her in his arms and she laughed, batting him in the arm. "Kidding, kidding—but let's be realistic here. Point one: I worshiped you for a long time, so it's only fair you return the favor." He twisted his face slightly and she chuckled, winding her arms snugly around his neck. "Point two: you're the do-gooder, saintly Samaritan type, Sweetheart. Sorry to disappoint you there, but I'm the wild one in this relationship. If either one of us was ever going to stumble into an unexpected relationship, it'd be yours truly." She touched a hand to her chest and smirked at him. He just raised an eyebrow.

"On a more serious note," he grunted slightly as he bent back over and worked to unlatch the window while having to support her in his arms, "what's with you and giving people ties lately? Not to say I don't love my new ones, but it seemed a bit out of the blue."

She hummed. "Avoiding my little speech, are you?"

"I have no response."

"You just don't want to admit that out of the two of us, you're the boring one."

"Louder and flashier doesn't necessarily mean less boring, Helga."

"Actually that's exactly what it means." She reached over and easily lifted the window open, so he could stop struggling with it. At her smug look, he tried to look angry, but it didn't last long. He smiled at her and set her down on her feet.

As she pulled the coat more firmly about her shoulders, she commented, "You know you were going to have to put me down anyway, I don't know why you didn't just do that before you started trying to open the stupid thing."

Arnold shrugged, already on his way down the steps. "I wasn't thinking."

"I think it was that male pride taking dominance over your brain again." He sent her a look and she sniggered, crouching down so she could begin her way down the steps after him. She spoke as she started her descent, very quietly but with a laugh in her voice, "Or maybe your more primitive side reacted unconsciously to our conversation and you wanted to keep a tight hold on your woman—" Halfway down and only a couple steps from hopping safely onto the bed, her foot slipped from the snow still stuck to the bottom of her shoe and a quick, concise screech that she tried desperately to keep quiet escaped her as she fell back, instinctively twisting her body around to hopefully catch herself on her hands. Instead she fell half twisted into her husband's arms, and Arnold caught her with a muffled yelp, stumbling backwards before he slammed his back against the shelf.

For a moment they just stood there, the bed still bouncing beneath them from the episode and her body held tightly and at a very awkward angle in his arms. Then, with no little amount of caution, Helga turned herself fully around so she could face him properly, practically having to pry herself out of his arms in the process, and looked him in the eye. The moonlight cast a shadow over his face, and she couldn't very well make out most of his features, but his eyes were there, white, wide and a beautiful emerald green. He stared back.

After a long moment, he whispered, "Why do I have a feeling you'd have been dead a long time ago without me around?"

There was a sudden burst of hot air against his face that smelled heavily of chocolate and popcorn, and he humphed and blew back. She broke into a silent coughing fit and pretended she was choking the second he did it, no doubt to annoy him, but he just laughed quietly under his breath and pulled her closer. She seemed more than happy to oblige him, because she quit the act and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He had been shorter than her for a good chunk of his life, but one thankful growth spurt in his mid-teens set him at equal height with her. And then an inch taller. And then an inch taller. He had been ecstatic at his growing, but it hadn't lasted for very long. Now deep into adulthood, he was only a few inches taller than her, but he found that he really couldn't complain—not with his wife so close to him, with her eyes a hypnotic and deceivingly innocent blue, and the moonlight casting a lovely glow over her pale face—and especially not when it was so easy for her to reach his—

"Don't even think about it," a sleepy voice croaked in the darkness.

The two adults stopped dead at the voice, and flushed a brilliant shade of pink, feeling much like naughty teenagers at the moment. But then they remembered themselves, and Arnold coughed out a laugh the same moment Helga cursed under her breath. It was like he had a sixth sense or something. He never missed a chance to break a mood. This – this right here – was exactly why there needed to be more closets in the world, and she resolved to tell Arnold as much the next moment alone they had.

"Sorry, Sport," Helga responded after deciding this, extracting herself from her husband's arms to lower herself down to sit on the side of the bed. "Didn't know you were awake."

"Like that's an excuse," the voice muttered, sounding even sleepier than before. Helga smirked at her youngest son, sprawled on his stomach across the mattress they'd laid out long ago for some of their longer visits, that they'd been too lazy to ever really put away. Lord knew no one was ever going to be renting this room anyway so it hardly mattered.

Ham laid to Phil's right on his side, a bright pink blanket pulled up over his head, and Zack was spread out over the couch with his legs hanging over the other side, mouth wide open and out like a light. That boy could sleep on spikes and still be comfortable, she thought with a wince in his direction.

Arnold chose to respond this time, "We really are sorry, Phil. Go back to sleep."

Phil just gave a close-mouthed moan as his response and let his head plop back into his pillow.

After a moment or two, Helga stood up and turned back around to face her husband. He lowered himself carefully down to sit, and she took advantage of being the taller one in this position by grabbing him by his ridiculously tiny ears and planting a kiss on him. It lasted exactly three wonderful, blissful seconds, before the sound of a dying whale came from behind them and they broke apart, grimacing. Helga sent a sharp look at Phil over her shoulder, while Arnold felt a new level of awkwardness descend upon him and reached a hand back to rub the back of his neck.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" His quiet assumption grabbed her attention back, and she looked a bit unsure.

She asked, slowly, "You think Faith's still awake?"

Arnold smirked slightly. "Wide."

Helga sighed and drew herself back, her arms falling to her sides as she shifted her head back to stare blankly through the skylight. "Oh, joy. Crazy seven-year-old at 12 AM. Yippee."

"It won't be so bad," Arnold chuckled.

"Arnold…" she shot him a derisive look. "Did you see how many sugar cookies and hot chocolates that girl consumed?"

The pink blanket mound decided to answer this question, "Twenty-eight cookies, six hot chocolates, extra whipped cream on each, five with rainbow sprinkles."

"I thought it was thirty-two cookies," Phil said, lifting his head slightly to showcase the confusion on his face.

The pink mound responded simply, "No."

"Excuse me," Helga raised her voice slightly, not bothering to turn around, "this is your father and I's private conversation!"

Phil dead-panned, "You're having it three feet away."

"Private!"

Zack gave a loud snore suddenly and turned over on his side, murmuring something about whale tacos. Phil made another dying whale noise and let his head fall down into his pillow.

"Okay, look," Arnold brought the conversation back to the point, not wanting to wake up his eldest and most difficult-to-deal-with son, "you know Amanda, just get her to drink a big glass of water and pop in Oliver in Company. She'll be asleep before you know it. And if that doesn't work, you can always—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, break out the hungry, hungry hippos and warm milk." Helga grunted and grumbled something incoherent under her breath. She sighed then, glaring at a random spot on the carpet. "I know the drill."

Arnold smiled, and reached up to lift her chin so her eyes met his. "Hey, it won't be so bad. If she's still not asleep in an hour you have my full permission to wake me up and we'll get through this together. We both need to get some sleep, though, so the sooner you go down and face her the sooner we can all be in bed."

"Yeah, Mom, get out, it's boy's only."

Helga flew around to face Phil and cut her eyes at him dangerously. She spoke in a whispered shout, "Hey, hey, hey, I was here long before you, Buster! Don't use that tone with me. Especially not at this hour."

"But—"

"No."

"Mom—"

She made a soft buzzing noise.

Phil huffed impatiently and flicked his eyes to the sky. "Mom, if you'd just stop for—"

"Nope." She sliced her arms through the air, before folding them over her chest. "Access to snark denied. I am confiscating your snark, officially. You can have it back once you've learned to use it against people who are not your mother. Like your father, for example. Snark him." She threw her thumb in his direction, still giving her son her best 'I'm the boss around here' face.

Arnold's face went flatter than paper. "Helga—"

"Ope!" Helga whipped her head around to grin at him. "And there's the tone you'll be using in defense to his snark. There we go, all sorted out." She dusted her hands off and traipsed over to the door, opening it up as quietly as possible so she could escape. Just before closing the door, she looked back at them all and smirked, nodding her head at them each individually. "Goodnight, husband, children…"

While Arnold stared at her, Phil and the pink mound both muttered a quiet, "Goodnight, Mom…" And with that, she was gone, the door softly clicking behind her.

A particularly phlegmy snore erupted from Zack's mouth, before he smacked his lips a couple times and fell back into the dead of sleep.

The pink mound remained completely frozen for a few seconds more after these sounds, before the blanket was cast aside to reveal a white-bearded and very paranoid Ham. "Phew, I thought she'd never leave."

A small crease appeared between Arnold's eyebrows as he stared down his only truly sensible son wearing a Santa Clause beard in bed. He blinked a couple times, tilted his head slightly to the left, and raised a very reluctant eyebrow, before finally finding the stamina to open his mouth. After a few more seconds, sound even came out, "Ham… normally I would let this go and not ask, but I really didn't expect this from—" A sigh tumbled out of his lips and he skipped straight to the point, sounding tired, "Why are you wearing a beard?"

Ham huffed in mild irritation, reaching a hand up to scratch around his lips. "It was Oskar's gift to me and Christmas is the only time I'll ever be able to wear it so I'm trying to enjoy it for as long as I can. I know it's stupid but I'm…" he pursed his lips, as if he wasn't entirely sure, "trying to make the best of it, I guess…"

"Oh." Arnold brightened, deeply pleased by this news. "I'm happy to hear that, Ham. Are you succeeding at all?"

Ham reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No."

"You can always become a hobo if you want," Phil suggested, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Thank you, Phil. That's always been a dream of mine."

Their father's sleep-hazed chuckle caught the two boys attention, and they watched as he yawned and stretched himself back onto his old bed, hands stretching back to pillow his head. He whispered, just loud enough for them to hear, "Well, overall I'd say we had a good day today. Wouldn't you, boys?"

They both murmured their mutual agreement, and Arnold hummed his approval, his eyes already shut. Ham seemed to hesitate at the silence that came upon them. And then he asked, "Did you tell her?" At the continued silence, he elaborated, "On where you and her are spending your day out?"

Arnold opened his eyes and stared at the stars straight above him. Focusing on one in particular, he responded, "Not yet."

Ham blinked a couple times rapid fire, before squinting at him in the darkness. "'Not yet'? But… Dad, that was the entire point of your gift. Heck, that was the gift."

Phil seemed to share his skepticism, as he decided to flatly state, "This is usually the place I'd interject with a sarcastic comment but my snark's been taken away so I'll just lay here in silent judgment."

"Did you just snark about being unable to snark?"

"Yes, and there's nothing you can do about it." He gave him a petulant look, before smashing his face back down into his pillow and pulling the blanket he'd thrown away over himself.

Arnold spoke before Ham could form a proper response, "Our anniversary's not for another month and a half. I've got plenty of time to tell her. Now's not the right time." He smiled then, thinking of the gift he truly meant to surprise her with, and closed his eyes in the total contentment of the thought. He may not be the most exciting dad, and he certainly wasn't the richest husband, but he always pulled through in the end. He didn't always know that, but he did at the moment, and the feeling was a source of liquid peace running down and settling somewhere inside his heart. Now hadn't been the right time to tell her but the time would come, and in the meantime he just wanted to savor his little secret.

Ham seemed to want to say more on the subject, but he couldn't come up with anything, so after a couple minutes of struggle he finally just fell back into his pillow and whispered, "Whatever you say, Dad."

Exactly one hour later, his wife yelled in his ear, "Hey Arnold, your daughter won't stop not touching me!"

And all was as it should be.

A/N: So, let's see, what do I want to say after this leviathan of a chapter... Well, for one, I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand, but let's face facts here. I have no control of any of this. I've been at the story's disposal for some time now. xD I am essentially it's b*tch.

I did go ahead and start some future plot points that I'll be needing... Lots of bombs for Phil are in here that are gonna be going off next chapter (AKA part one to Phil's Shortman Secrets portion). And one in particular that's for Ham's. :) And I gave a proper introduction to Sophie at last. xDDD I swear, a lot of you guys have been all, "Sophie's no good for Zack!" and comparing her to Lila but I swear if you guys knew who her parents were you'd be staring at her in jaw-dropped shock and awe. XD I hope to tell her parents story someday, probably sometime after finishing my Shortman Secrets arc. I have all sorts of inspiration for it... Like, seriously, it's eating my soul... Kinda like this entire story. u_u *Cries into emo jeans that I can't get off*

I know the entire point of this was to show Arnold's insecurity as a dad and how he overcomes that, and in order to do that I probably should have shown the gift-giving, but I think the fact that it didn't even need to get shown is a testament to how much Arnold really feels better after everything. As for his kids leaving one day... well, there's really no way to feel better about that. You just have to grin and bear it. xD Christmas really isn't about gifts anyway, and they raised their kids well enough to know that, so it's hardly consequential. The moral here: *Austen Powers voice* It's all about the love, ba-by. ;D ...And the jokes. All dem cheesy jokes. :B

NOW THEN :D

Q - can we seriously ask questions?! Because I'd love to know why Arnold insists on including Pam in things when he knows Zack is uh... Less than comfortable. Is it still because he was caught being a pervvy peeping Tom? Or does he like the idea of Pam and Zack, y'know, together? :o

A - Yes, you can certainly ask questions. To me or to the characters, whatever you guys are curious about, I'm more than happy to elaborate on. :) And well, Arnold's been Zack's father for sixteen years now... and I think he harbors a lot of guilt in that, to be honest. xDD Of course Arnold loves Zack, but he knows his son has a tendency to getting in trouble and hurting people without meaning to, so he often feels responsible, especially since Zack doesn't give two craps and denies everything. XD So it's definitely because of the Peeping Tom thing still. He's trying to make it up to her and, also in part, he just likes her. xD

As for what he thinks of her with Zack: Zack's ill temper around Pam really alarms him. He's not used to Angry!Zack, and it makes him worry a little bit. xD I do believe he has a secret part of himself that enjoys seeing HIM get riled up for once, though. So that just might be a contributing factor in all this, too... XD ;)

Q - Is it bad that I got terrified of Arnold getting mad I mean HE COULD KARATE CHOP THE KIDS HEAD OFF jeez scary stuff ha

A - I know this wasn't really meant as a question I should answer but... ROFLMBO bless you

And that's all, folks! :B Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion to ghdhhjGNLSNGKLSNHLS...

Blank screen

REVIEW!