Chapter Three: Santa Baby

"There are some people who want to throw their arms round you simply because it is Christmas; there are other people who want to strangle you simply because it is Christmas." - Robert Straughton Lynd

I don't think Mom and Dad knew we'd left. Dad's pointing to the fireplace and shouting about how he's living proof that a fat man can fit down a chimney. (Yes, he shimmies down that thing every year.) Mom is demanding that he explain how Santa gets on the roof in the first place. (We don't tell her that Santa can fly and doesn't even use the chimney.) I wonder how Santa would get in if the Ghost Shield was active. Then, I remember that Dad turns it off on Christmas Eve without telling Mom. I asked him why last year, and he said, "Just on the off chance that it would give Santa any trouble. Can't be too careful."

Ugh. Little did we know.

After assuring Sam and Tucker that we were definitely fine, Jazz and I pushed them out the door with their sacks of presents. Mom and Dad don't notice my sister and I walking through the living room with nondescript sacks. I stop at the staircase.

"By the way," I say half-heartedly, "did you know I'm Danny Phantom?"

Fighting about Santa.

"It's true. Two years ago, the Portal electrocuted me and I died."

Still fighting.

"But, it's okay because I'm still alive. I can switch between forms. Watch. I'm going ghost."

At that point, Jazz grabs me and practically throws me up the stairs.

"I wasn't actually gonna transform," I assure.

"Either way," Jazz admonishes, "you can't just blurt all that out!"

I throw my hand in the direction of the screaming match. "Why not?"

Jazz stands there then groans. "I don't know."

We silently head to our rooms and put our gifts away. When I get to Bub's sculpture, I stare at it with longing in my heart. I should sneak back to the Ghost Zone. I'm sure Jazz would come if I asked her. Reaper wouldn't mind if we spent the night. Or, the rest of the month. Just until the break ends and we have to go back to school.

Mom and Dad probably wouldn't notice our absence.

(I wish I was still curled up on the couch and watching cheesy holiday cartoons with Mama and Grim.)

I perch the sculpture on my nightstand and blink away tears. I hear footsteps and turn to see Jazz standing in the doorway.

"You wanna talk?" she asks.

Part of me wants to be left alone. The other part wants to be with someone sane. That's the part that wins out.

"Close the door," I moan. "You're letting in the noise."

Jazz does what she's told and it gets much quieter. She stands there with her hand on the door, lost once again.

"At least the party was fun," I say when the silence becomes too much. "We can still say that we had a good time on Christmas." A sniffle is her response, and my stomach drops. "Sis?"

Jazz swipes at her watery eyes as she turns around. "I try, Danny." She tosses her hands at her sides and radiates exhaustion. "I-I try so hard to make Christmas fun for you, and-and it never works."

My throat tightens. No matter the situation, my big sister only ever seems to think about me and my needs.

Jazz shakes her head with a sob. "And now, there's no point! Mom and Dad - hic - they'll never stop and- Oh, Danny, I'm so tired!"

She throws her hands over her face and cries, and my core screams as loud as our parents. For as long as I can remember, Jazz has been the strong one. Not just strong, but smart, good-looking, put together. I've always admired her for it as much as I've envied her. But, everyone has a limit.

Jazz rarely comes to me for comfort; it's usually the other way around. My sister does everything for me. (To the point that she often feels more like a mother than a sister.) I need to snatch up these little opportunities to repay her. They don't come up often.

"I'm tired, too," I croak. Jazz raises her head and looks at me with wet blue-green eyes. "Jazz, don't act like your efforts were pointless. Maybe they didn't help much, but they meant something to me. Without you in this house, I…" (would have probably died fully years ago) "I would be alone. You may not have made me like Christmas, but you gave me someone to talk to." A tear rolls down my cheek. "I know I don't always act like it, but-but I appreciate you, Jazzie. More than I can say."

My sister's sobs start anew, and she crushes me in a hug. I wrap my arms around her while she finally lets it all out.

Until a sharp cold breath escapes me. There are two things my Ghost Sense is good at: alerting me to nearby ghosts on Earth and killing the mood. No pun intended.

Jazz sniffs and starts to loosen her grip. "Was that your-"

I tighten my own grip. "It's still the Christmas truce. I can ignore it."

"Uh, Danny-"

"Sis, I can ignore it."

"No, you can't."

Something bumps into my leg. I look down and find Cujo gazing up at me with his tongue out and his tail wagging. And, I don't believe he was wearing those reindeer antlers before. Antlers that look suspiciously similar to Mira's headband.

I reluctantly let go of my sister. "Um, Cujo," I say, "now's not a good time."

"Not even for us?" another voice chirps. Mira is poking her head in through the wall. She phases in all the way. "Surely, you can make time for us."

Bub flies in right behind her with a small sack over his shoulder. "Hi, Danny! Hi, Jazz!"

What in the world?

"Bub? Mira?" Jazz says and quickly wipes her face on her sleeve. "What are you guys doing here?"

"I'm not Bub," Bub says. "I'm Santa. Ho ho ho."

Mira does a twirl. "And, I'm his trusty elf! And, Cujo is his faithful reindeer!"

That explains the antlers, I guess. The other ghosts are also decked out. Bub is wearing a onesie that is designed to replicate Santa's suit and a matching red stocking cap. Mira is wearing a sexy- I mean short red dress with puffy white buttons and equally fluffy trim on the bottom and the ends of the long sleeves as well as black…mary janes, I think they're called. Her hair is still in a braid, but it looks neater than before.

Jazz and I glance at each other, and I ask, "Did we miss something?"

Bub holds out the sack. "There are a few gifts left, and I need my elves to help me deliver them."

"You mean, us?" Jazz asks, pointing between herself and me. "Why us?"

Mira puts her hands behind her back. "We just want you guys to enjoy your Christmas. So," she shimmies, making her dress sway around those bare thighs that I really shouldn't be staring at this much, "how about a night on the town? It'll be fun!"

It would be nice to get out of the house again…

Bub gives his sack a shake. "Santa needs help finding the rest of the houses." He bats his reptilian eyes. "Please help me deliver the gifts!"

Mira pats his head with a smug grin. "How can you say no to that face?"

To hammer it home, Cujo runs in front of them and shows off his best sad dog eyes.

I admit, I wouldn't mind spending more time with these guys. Anything's better than hiding from the fight downstairs.

"What about me?" Jazz says. "How would we explain a random human flying around with all of you, particularly Danny Phantom?"

I hadn't thought of that. "Here's another thing. What if word gets out that Jazz was spending Christmas with ghosts? Our parents would freak."

Mira waves off our concerns. "Ah, no one's gonna pay attention. Everyone will be too busy celebrating the holiday. Come on, you two. What have you got to lose?"

I'm still not sure, but as long as we're careful, it should be okay.

Jazz walks to my door and opens it. She closes it again when the shouting match breaks through the friendly atmosphere. "I'm willing to risk it."

Well, that answers that. I let the icy rings roll up and down my body, turning me back into a ghost. I'd changed clothes in the Specter Speeder on the way home - much safer than doing it in my room, distracted parents or not - so I'm back in my usual jumpsuit. "Alright. What's the plan?"

"The plan," Mira says with a slight bow, "is to hit the houses of all your friends and deliver the gifts that Bub picked out for them."

"I'm not Bub. I'm Santa," Bub repeats. "Ho ho ho."

Mira just smiles at him and walks up to me and Jazz and whispers, "He actually just grabbed some random crap from your yard and put it in a bag. But, this is just for fun anyway."

"If we do this, maybe we should stick to Danny's friends," Jazz suggests. "That way, we won't have to explain why I'm with all of you." Because the few human friends I have all know my secret, but Jazz's friends don't. "Besides, all the friends I don't share with Danny are out of town for the holidays."

"Fair enough," Mira says. She turns back to the window. "Shall we?"

"Wait," Jazz says suddenly. "What if Mom and Dad check on us and see we're not in bed?"

To alleviate that, Jazz and I quickly head into her room and do what they do on TV: cram a bunch of stuff under the covers so it looks like there's a person under there. Let's hope Mom and Dad don't look too closely. While Jazz throws on her pink jacket, hat, and gloves, I conjure a duplicate to sleep in my bed for me.

Once all that's taken care of, we're ready to go. Cujo leaps into Mira's arms. Bub hoists the sack back over his shoulder. I lift Jazz bridal-style in my arms, and we all phase out of the house. I scan the area, but the streets are bare. Hopefully, Mira's right, and no one will see us.

"Elf Danny," Bub says. "Where is Santa's first delivery?"

"Well, Tucker's house is the closest," I say.

Bub points in a direction. "Onward, Cujo!"

Cujo can't fly, so he starts panting and spinning his legs around when Mira holds him out. She giggles at the dog-ghost's antics. Jazz covers her laughter with her hand.

I chuckle and nod down the street. "Actually, it's this way."

Mira directs Cujo in that direction. He doesn't stop "running."

"Onward!" Bub shouts.

He flies in the right direction, and we follow him. Jazz and I grin at each other. Maybe this will be more fun than we thought.

When we reach the Foley house, I direct everyone to where Tucker's bedroom is, and we phase in through the wall. I've been here so many times over the years, I could see it clearly even if I didn't have impeccable night vision. His computer sits on his desk in the corner. Next it is a cabinet where he keeps various tech gear neatly organized, and one drawer is exclusively for video games. His backpack rests beside the door, and there's always an article of clothing or two lying on the floor. That part drives his mom crazy.

Tucker is curled up under the covers and snoring quietly. I try shaking his shoulder, but he just rolls over and mutters, "Not now, Mr. Penguin."

Mira nudges me with a grin. "Do the snow thing."

Her mischief is contagious. I form a cloud over my best friend's head, and snow plummets on top of him.

He snorts and bolts upright with a cry of, "Okay, I'll ride the snowmobile!" We ghosts and Jazz start giggling as I let the snow disappear. Tucker hears us and fumbles to turn on the lamp at his bedside before grabbing his glasses. He takes a long look at us and says, "You guys aren't penguins. What's going on?"

"That's what we're still wondering," Jazz says, and I shrug in agreement.

Cujo leaps out of Mira's arms and on to Tucker's lap. Tucker smiles and runs his hand down the dog-ghost's back. "Hello, Cujo." To us, "Seriously, what are you all doing here?"

Mira curtsies. "You've been a very good boy this year, Tucker, so you get an extra present from our tiny Santa!"

Tucker grins at Bub and rubs his hands together. "Is that so? And, what does tiny Santa have for me?"

"Behold," Bub says. He reaches into his bag and hands Tucker, "A stick!"

Jazz and I try not to laugh.

Tucker's smile is much more forced now as he stares at the twig in his hand. "Oh, wow. Thank you, Santa."

"You're welcome!" Bub chirps with a salute. "Bye bye!"

He flies out of the house, and Cujo chases after him but stops at the wall to wait for us to carry him.

"I repeat," Tucker says, no longer putting on a front, "what is going on?"

"We're just a couple of ghosts and a human having a good time," Mira says. "Merry Christmas!" She grabs Cujo and phases through the wall.

"I'm still confused," Tucker tells us.

"So are we," I confess.

Jazz chuckles and shakes her head. "It's going to be an interesting night."

Tucker shrugs and tosses the twig aside. "Well, whatever you're doing, have fun."

We wish each other a merry Christmas before I pick up Jazz once more and follow my fellow ghosts.

Sam's house is next. It's a huge structure that screams, "I have money." Sam's complained about her parents' needless spending more than once. She's the type of person who would gladly live in a hut if her money was going to a worthy cause. I think her parents are disappointed in her because of it. Parents are weird.

This time we go in (literally) through the window. Sam's room, another place I know well, is as fun but gothic as its owner. She has a four poster bed that would fit perfectly in Dracula's mansion. There's a group of bat and black cat plushies that are piled up as if posing for a photo. Posters of everything from "Hollow Knight" to "Courage: The Cowardly Dog" cover the walls. There used to be one for the "Kenny Dhampir" movies as well, but the director recently became one of our enemies, so…

Sam is easier to wake than Tucker. All I have to do is give her a little shake. She mumbles something and blinks groggily at us.

"Merry Christmas!" Bub shouts, and we all shush him.

Sam shakes her head as if that will remove the bizarre scene. She reaches over and flicks the light switch beside her bed. When we're still here, she asks, "What's all this?"

Mira does another curtsy. "You have been an extra good girl this year, Sam. Jewish or not, you're still getting a gift from tiny Santa."

Sam sees Bub reaching into his bag and smirks. "In other words," she says, "you guys are screwing around."

"Pretty much," Jazz says.

"It is kind of fun, though," I admit. "Weird but fun."

Bub pulls something out and hands it to Sam. "For you, young lady."

I swallow a laugh when Sam stares in confusion at the pebble in her hand. "Uh, thanks, Santa," she says. "I'll put this right next to the rock my friend, Bub, gave me."

"Ho ho ho!" Bub shouts. "Now, off to the next house!

He flies through the wall. Cujo leaps out of Mira's arms and onto Sam's lap. The dog-ghost presses his paws on Sam's chest and gives her face a huge lick before running to the wall to wait for us. Anyone else would be delighted to get licked, but Sam is less than amused.

Mira laughs at Sam's expression. "Ah, lighten up, Sam." She skips over to grab Cujo. "Merry Christmas!" She adds before jumping through the wall.

"Are you guys pulling pranks or something?" Sam asks.

Jazz grins as I lift her into my arms. "We don't really know what we're doing."

"Those two just barged in and recruited us," I add.

Sam yawns. She's not a morning person, especially when it's nowhere near morning. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

We say our goodbyes and part ways. Once outside, I direct everyone toward Paulina's house. On the way, I notice that my sister has a bright grin on her face. And, I realize that I'm sporting a similar look.

What we're doing is absolutely ridiculous, and I think that's what makes it fun. Good company and mindless fun. This is what Christmas should be.

"Whoa," Mira says as we approach a massive building with a front lawn the size of a mall parking lot. The structure itself appears to have a small house attached to it, but that part is actually a huge garage. "I didn't know there was a fancy hotel in this town."

"There isn't?" Jazz says unsurely.

Oh, that's right. None of these guys have ever been here before. "Actually," I say, "this is Paulina's house."

The girls' mouths fall open. Mira asks, "Are you sure that's not a hotel?"

"For royalty?" Jazz adds.

"What's wrong?" Bub asks because he probably has no idea what they're talking about.

I just shake my head. "It's nothing, Bub. I don't know where Paulina's room is, so we'll have to do some searching."

I turn myself and Jazz invisible, and the others follow suit. We head in and fly around. Everyone but me gawks at the expensive decor as we search, though I think I'm the only one paying attention. And, even I'm noticing things. Seriously, I know Paulina's parents are successful, but how rich are they? I recall Paulina once saying that two hundred dollars for a blouse was a clearance price and stifle a shudder.

We finally reach Paulina's room, and I'm starting to wonder if this really is a hotel for royalty. The room is twice the size of the living room at my house, and the four-poster bed could fit four people and leave everyone with plenty of room. The vanity has a gigantic mirror, and its drawers must be filled with fancy makeup, possibly from Mrs. Sanchez's own company. The closet door is slightly ajar, and Jazz opens it experimentally. It's a big walk-in with clothes lining one side and, to all but my own surprise, overalls and tools and car stuff on the other. This must be where Paulina hides her passion from her close-minded parents.

Jazz closes the door and whispers, "When I heard Paulina got a job at an auto shop, I thought it was a joke."

"I knew about it," Mira says, letting Cujo hop out of her arms, "but I didn't realize how much she liked that stuff."

Bub grows bored and breathes, "Present time!"

He floats up to Paulina's sleeping form, and the rest of us follow. Paulina is in the center of the bed, and I have to float to nudge her shoulder. She moans a little before blinking up at me. I give her a wave, and she shakes her head and blinks some more.

"Danny Phantom?" she croaks, slowly coming to life. "In my room? At night? Am I still dreaming?"

I snort. "Sorry, but this is not one of your erotic dreams."

Paulina's dark skin pales, and she shoots upright. "You know about those?" When I hover there with my mouth open, she turns bright red. "You were joking, weren't you?"

I thought Paulina had gotten over me, but apparently I was wrong.

No words form, so Mira leaps into the air and pushes me out of the way. "Hi, Paulina! Please accept a gift from Santa before this gets any more awkward."

Paulina turns to where the rest of our group stands/floats. Jazz waves at her with an uncomfortable smile, Cujo sits on the bed with his tongue out and his tail wagging, and Bub digs into the bag, totally clueless.

Bub pulls out another pebble and floats forward to give it to Paulina. "Here you go," he says. "Also, what's an erotic dream?"

Why do I have to make jokes? Why?

All of us stammer for a moment before Jazz says, "It's a special kind of dream that only grown-ups have."

Bub accepts the answer and bids Paulina a merry Christmas before shooting through the wall.

"So, uh," Paulina says, her wide eyes glancing between me and Mira, "you guys have a baby now."

Oh god.

"He's not ours," I say at the same time Mira says, "Bub's not our kid."

Cujo breaks the tension by trying to lick Paulina's face, but she shimmies away from him. Mira grabs the dog before Paulina falls off the bed.

"Sorry, Paulina," Jazz giggles as I float over to pick her up. "Danny and I got recruited for some weird delivery game."

"Okay…" Paulina drawls. I get the feeling that she still thinks she's dreaming.

My sister and I are both laughing as we follow Mira through the wall where Bub is waiting.

"Where to next?" Bub asks.

"Dash lives close by," I suggest. "After him, I've only got one more friend in this realm."

Mira coughs a laugh. "What was I thinking? You should be carrying Cujo. You've gotta lead the reindeer in the right direction."

Cujo barks in agreement, and I say with a wide grin, "Of course!"

We land on the roof to safely make the switch. Now Jazz is in Mira's arms, and Cujo in mine and making those running motions before we've even gotten off our feet.

Once we're in the air, I hold Cujo out and say, "Cujo, with your glow so bright, won't you shine our way tonight?"

Cujo barks and spins his little legs even faster. We all laugh at his antics as he "leads" the way.

"You guys look happy," Mira comments, flying a little closer to me.

"I am," I say when I realize that it's true. "How 'bout you, sis?"

"I'll admit," Jazz says. "I thought this was stupid at first. But in practice, it is kind of fun."

Bub flies forward, his sack trailing behind him. "Are we there yet?"

I spot Dash's house and lead everyone down there. We phase in through the wall, and I see that the room is no cleaner than the last time I was here. Clothes and school supplies are scattered about, and the waste bin by his desk is overflowing.

We don't have to wake Dash up; his dog does it for us. Pookie, a brown chihuahua with black circles around his eyes, had been sleeping in a dog bed in the corner of the room when we entered. Animals are sensitive to the presence of the undead, and Pookie's head shoots up at our presence. Luckily, he's familiar with me and Mira and he's very familiar with his best pal, Cujo.

Cujo leaps out of my arms, and Pookie meets him halfway across the room. As the dogs roll around together, Bub laughs at the sight and Dash snorts and mumbles before sitting upright in his bed. He mutters his dog's name as he fumbles to turn on his lamp.

Dash blinks away his sleepiness and sees the dogs on the floor. "Cujo? What are you-" He spots the rest of us and stares in confusion before his eyes lock on Bub. He grins and chuckles in disbelief. "Danny, you didn't tell me you had a baby!"

I smack my forehead, "Bub is not my kid. This better not become a recurring thing!" (And yet, there's a nagging feeling at the back of my mind as I watch this sweet child giggle uncomprehendingly at us silly grown-ups.)

Bub pulls a twig out of his bag and flies over to Dash. "This is for you!"

Dash hesitates before taking the twig. He looks at it, looks at Bub, rinse and repeat. "Thanks?" he says.

Bub takes a bow. "You are most welcome, little boy. Next house! Bye bye! Merry Christmas!" And, he's out.

Jazz shakes her head. "Sorry about this, Dash. Danny and I don't really know what's going on either. We're just along for the ride."

Dash ignores her and squints at me. "Are you sure that wasn't your kid? You do have the same hair color. At least, your ghost-form does."

I roll my eyes. "Come on, Dash. I'm not even old enough to be his- Oh, I guess I am." I cross my arms. "But, I'm not his dad." (Why does saying that feel so…wrong?)

Mira lifts Jazz in her arms. "Okay," my girlfriend says. "Santa's gift has been delivered. Let's move on."

"Cujo," I call. The dogs halt their wrestling match. "We're leaving."

The dogs bark their goodbyes, and Cujo runs over to me. As we all head out, I hear Dash say, "That's the last time I drink eggnog before bed."

"Alright," I say when we're all floating outside. "Valerie's the only one left. Lead the way, Cujo!"

The dog-ghost pumps his legs as I fly him to our final destination. We reach the apartment complex and manage to find Valerie's apartment. When we find her bedroom, we discover that there is barely enough room for all five of us to squeeze in without going intangible.

We scrunch together beside the bed, and I shake Valerie's shoulder. She grunts and blinks up at us for a moment.

Bub floats forward. "Merry Christmas! I'm Santa. Ho ho ho."

Valerie rolls over to turn on her lamp then sits up and stares at our group in disbelief. Then she points to Bub and says to me, "Phantom, since when do you have a kid?"

"He's. Not. Mine!" I snap (even though that still feels weird to say).

Mira clears her throat. "Tiny Santa here just wants to give you a present."

"You've been a good little girl this year," Bub announces. "I think. I've never met you before."

He pulls out another twig and shoves it in Valerie's hand. Valerie holds the twig like it might explode then raises an eyebrow at us. "What game are you people playing?"

"We're not sure," Jazz confesses with a smile.

Cujo leaps into Valerie's lap and gives her a huge lick before she can stop him. Like with Sam, she is less than amused, though she looks a lot more murderous.

A theory proven when she says to Cujo, "You're lucky Danny put you on the 'do not destroy' list."

I grab the dog before Valerie can remove him from that list. "Maybe we should get going," I suggest.

Mira grabs Jazz, and we take our leave. We've run out of destinations, and that makes me oddly sad. As weird as this endeavor was, I did enjoy it, and I can tell Jazz liked it too. But, it's pretty late, and while Bub and Mira don't need sleep and I'm good after about four hours, my sister is still fully human. I'm tempted to just drop her off at home and keep hanging out with my girlfriend and my baby…friend, but I wouldn't feel right leaving Jazz out of it.

"So, what do we do now?" Mira asks as we fly aimlessly.

"I don't know," Bub says, happily flapping his empty bag in the air as he soars.

Jazz sounds just as disappointed as me when she asks, "Do we just go home, or…?"

We have our answer when the icy sting of my Ghost Sense bursts out of me. Dread knots in my stomach. "Uh, guys, is it still Christmas?" Because, if it's not…

We're all on edge now as Jazz pulls her phone out of her pocket. The redness in her cold cheeks disappears. "No, it's after midnight."

Oh, crud.