A Whateley Academy Tale

Imp 9: An Imp-eriled Heart

by

Morpheus

Part One

Whateley Academy, Saturday morning, Dec 22nd 2007

I sat upon my throne and proudly surveyed my subjects, each petitioning for an audience with me so that they could hear my words of wisdom and vie for my favor.

“Ms. Imp,” one of my young subjects said while humbly seeking my attention.

“Yes, Sylver,” I answered as I stood up from the chair behind my desk.

I glanced around my classroom, which only had a handful of students currently present, each of whom was working on their individual projects. Winter vacation had started, but a lot of students hadn’t left the campus yet, and some wouldn’t be leaving at all, so I’d stayed behind long enough to hold a traditional Saturday morning cartoon session and then an open art classroom.

Sylver, or Sylver Stryker which was her full codename, was the one who’d called for my attention. She was a pretty girl with metallic silver hair and a somewhat depressed attitude. Apparently, she’d once been fairly powerful and had even been on the path to becoming a hero until she’d suffered a burnout that wiped out most of her powers… and most of her confidence.

“What do you think?” Sylver asked as she held up a piece of wood that had been carved into the shape of a wolf. She was still clutching a piece of sandpaper in her other hand.

“Very nice,” I said as I looked over the piece she’d been working on. Wood carving had never been my thing, but I could appreciate the time and effort that she’d put into carving this. “Maybe just a little more sanding right here… Then again, if you left it a little on the rough side, you could use the texture to represent the fur…”

Syler nodded at my suggestion. “I think I’ll sand it a little more since I want it to be smooth.” She gave me a self-conscious smile. “I made it for my dad’s Christmas present, and I really want him to like it.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” I assured her.

“Better than an ashtray,” Sylver responded in a wry tone, her eyes darting over to one boy who was trying to make a fast last minute Christmas present for one of his parents.

“A lot better,” I agreed. “But don’t tell Doorstop I said so.”

The girl smiled, looking pleased with her project as she began to clean up her workspace. I watched her for a bit, then began to wander around my kingdom to see which of my other subjects could use a bit of my wisdom.

“Ah yes,” I mused to myself, my tail swishing back and forth. “It’s good to be the Impress.”

Rochester NY, Saturday early afternoon, Dec 22nd 2007

“Home,” Chris Matthews said as he stood in the driveway of his house.

The flight from New Hampshire hadn’t taken very long, and he’d actually spent a lot more time in the airports than he had on the plane. Still, it was nice to finally arrive back home.

Chris looked around, then paused as he saw his neighbor’s house and the damage that was still in the process of being repaired. There was a large patch of missing shingles, which had been covered with a blue tarp that had been blown aside.

“What happened to Mr. Sheffield’s house?” Chris asked.

“Oh,” Chris’ dad answered with a chuckle. “Lightning.”

“Again?” Chris asked in surprise. “That’s like…the third time he’s been struck by lightning.”

“His house has been hit twice,” Chris’ mom corrected. “He’s only been hit once.”

Chris shook his head at that. Mr. Sheffield was a nice guy, but he had the weirdest luck. Between getting hit with lightning several times, he’d also won the lottery twice and once he’d even had a piece of airplane fall out of the sky and land on top of his car.

“If I didn’t know better,” Chris thought aloud, “I’d think he was a mangler…”

Then Chris paused, wondering if he really did know better. Mr. Sheffield had weird luck…both good and bad…and so did the people around him. That was the same kind of thing that happened around his classmate, Jinx. If Mr. Sheffield was a mangler, he might not even realize it. After all, probability mangling wasn’t the most obvious power and there were always other explanations for weird coincidences.

“Let’s get your stuff inside,” Chris’ dad announced as he opened the trunk of the car and pulled out Chris’ bags. “Then you can tell us all about that school of yours.”

“Sure thing,” Chris responded, quickly grabbing his own bags so that his dad wouldn’t have to carry them. “You wouldn’t believe how weird that place is.”

Manhattan NY, Sunday afternoon, Dec 23rd 2007

There were two days until Christmas, and I was out doing a little last-minute shopping. The idea seemed almost ridiculous. Me… Christmas shopping. It had been so long since I’d had anyone to shop for that the whole experience was completely novel.

“I’m as giddy as a schoolgirl,” I said aloud as I looked at the shops around me.

Of course, I was in disguise, and in my Christine Kade disguise at that. This kind of excursion demanded more than just a large coat, floppy hat, and sunglasses. This demanded that I look normal enough to actually interact with normal people without freaking them out.

I hummed Christmas songs to myself as I practically skipped down the sidewalk, trying to think about what else I could get for Ryan and Melissa. It had been so long since I’d bought a Christmas present for someone else that I might have been going overboard just a little bit.

“And Suzie Q,” I reminded myself. Or Susan Matthews as she was now known, but to me, she’d always be Suzie Q. Now that I’d reconnected with my old friend, I needed to get her something too. “Maybe a whoopie cushion…to remind her of old times.”

Just then, I heard a window shattering a short distance away, followed by someone shouting, “NOBODY MOVE!”

Being the curious Imp that I was, I quickly moved closer to see what was going on. A few seconds later, I had a good view of the scene where someone seemed to be in the process of robbing a jewelry store by breaking in the front window and snatching up the display. What really caught my attention though, wasn’t the crime being committed but the person who was doing it.

I had absolutely no idea if the thief was a mutant, an animan, or something else entirely. What I did know, and could tell with a single glance, was that he was definitely not any kind of normal human. He looked like a giant, 6-foot-tall, anthropomorphic rooster with reddish brown feathers. The black domino mask he wore was pretty silly since it didn’t do a single thing to hide his identity, but the glowing red eyes all over his body were really creepy looking.

“What the…?” I blurted out.

“MY NAME IS FUSTER CLUCK,” the giant chicken announced, looking around at the gathered people who were all staring at him in disbelief. “AND NOBODY HAD BETTER GET IN MY WAY.”

“Fuster Cluck?” I gasped, about to burst into laughter. Even I couldn’t give him a better nickname than that, though of course, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.

A broad grin spread across my face while my tail swished back and forth in eager anticipation. I didn’t give a damn about this guy’s robbery, though I was burning up with a question that just DEMANDED to be asked. However, I couldn’t do it as is. A question this important required the Imp, not Christine Kade. So with that, I stepped into a nearby alley and took off my jacket while deactivating the magic pendant that hid my real appearance. I didn’t have my costume with me, so this would have to do.

“HEY, Chicken Boo,” I called out a few seconds later as I stepped into his view. I paused long enough to let him get a good look at me.

Fuster Cluck stared at me with his own look of surprise, which looked absolutely hilarious on his chicken face. “Who…?”

“I just HAVE to know,” I asked with a broad grin. “Why DID you cross the road?”

“What the cluck?” the rooster exclaimed, giving me an angry glare. “Do you think you can stop me? Nobody cock blocks Fuster Cluck.”

“Look here, Foghorn,” I started. “I don’t care about your little snatch and grab. I just wanted to…”

Suddenly, one of the eyes on Fuster Cluck’s chest began to glow more brightly, right before it fired out a beam of energy. I dove to the side and avoided being hit, though the attack caused several people nearby to scream before nearly everyone finally ran away.

“About time,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes.

I stood up and made a show of casually brushing off my clothes, wishing as I did so that I had my uniform. This kind of encounter really did call for the proper attire, and as nice as they looked, slacks and a blouse just didn’t cut it.

“Now, as I was about to say, Foghorn,” I started, only to pause as an idea suddenly came to mind. I began to grin evilly, then a giggle escaped. “Now, THAT is a great idea…”

Fuster Cluck fired another beam of energy at me, but I saw it coming and was able to dodge. While I was doing that, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, hitting a number on speed dial as I did so.

“Hey, Chickenhawk,” I told Ryan when he picked up. “I just ran into a supervillain who you just HAVE to fight. He’s called Fuster Cluck…and no, I did not give him that name. I think he actually gave it to himself. Anyway, he’s robbing a jewelry store and shooting up the town, so you’d better get here to stop him and FAST.” After that, I quickly gave Ryan the address and hung up.

“Now,” I mused, turning my attention back to the giant chicken. “How do I keep you here long enough for Chickenhawk to arrive?”

I was a woman of many talents, but one that I particularly excelled at was being able to get someone’s attention and keep them distracted. Now, it was time to put that talent to use.

"Come on, sing it," I called out excitedly. "Come on, we'll do a sing along... Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day..."

“Will you shut the cluck up?” Fuster Cluck shouted at me, firing another beam from an eye on his shoulder.

“Wow, Foghorn” I mocked him. “You have enough eyes to be a potato. Are you part potato?”

“SHUT UP,” he snarled, attacking me again.

“If you are part potato,” I continued cheerfully, “that would make you doubly edible, wouldn’t it?” Then as if in sudden realization, I paused long enough to gasp, “That must be why you crossed the road. You were trying to get away from the Colonel.”

Fuster Cluck snarled at me and spat out, “You’re an annoying hero…”

“I am NOT a hero,” I protested, offended by the accusation.

“Then why are you trying to stop me?” he demanded.

“I’m not trying to stop you,” I pointed out. “I’m trying to MOCK you…and I have to say, I’m doing a good job of it too.”

Foghorn paused and stared at me in confusion. “You’re actually serious…”

“Not if I can help it,” I joked. “Being serious is nasty stuff…” I made a show of shuddering in disgust. “Mocking and heckling is more my thing… In fact, if you give me a good balcony box, I’d be happy just sitting up there and heckling people for the entire show.”

“Who are you?” the chicken demanded.

I grinned at that, always happy for a good chance for a dramatic introduction. “I am the beautiful, talented, and fabulous Imp.” I gave a sweeping bow and added, “Art thief and supervillain extraordinaire. Retired.”

Fuster Cluck stared at me for several seconds before shaking his head. “Whoever you are, I’m going to cluck you up.”

“You’re welcome to try,” I responded, gesturing for Foghorn to attack me. “Come and get me. Or, are you chicken?”

The rooster came running at me, throwing a punch which I easily avoided. Clearly, he wasn’t a brawler. Of course, neither was I, which was why I slipped back and out of his reach rather than taking advantage of the opportunity to hit him back.

“Ah say. Ah say boy,” I said in my best Foghorn Leghorn voice. “You’re thicker than a volume of the government tax code.”

“No one mocks Fuster Cluck,” He snarled as he charged at me again. “NO ONE.”

But just then, I saw movement from above and glanced up, only to see a familiar figure. Rapidly descending towards us was a man in a dark blue costume with white trim, which included a dark blue cowl that covered his head. As he grew closer, I could make out the logo on his chest, the symbol of a bird with its wings spread out.

“CHICKENHAWK,” I called out, grinning at the sight of my boyfriend and one-time archenemy. Then to myself, I muttered, “About time.”

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could have kept Fuster Cluck distracted without either running away or committing to a real fight.

“You must be the Fuster Cluck, I heard about,“ Ryan announced as he stared down at Foghorn. “Please tell me that you didn’t give that name to yourself, because it sounds like something that Imp would name you.”

“Another one,” Fuster Cluck snarled, glaring up at Ryan.

One of Foghorn’s eyes began to glow brighter, one on his thigh. A beam of energy shot out, but Chickenhawk was far enough away that it didn’t take much for him to dodge it.

“Go get that chicken,” I called out with a broad grin while backing away. I’d done my job by keeping Foghorn distracted, so now it was up to Chickenhawk. This was what I’d been waiting for. “All I need now is a bowl of popcorn.”

Chickenhawk formed a glowing ball in his hand, one of his signature gravity spheres. One hit was enough to completely mess with someone’s personal gravity, which could be annoying at best and devastating at worst. I was quite familiar with the effect since I’d been hit with those things before.

But before Ryan could actually attack Fuster Cluck, the rooster turned and began to run. Ryan fired the gravity sphere at the runaway chicken, hitting him before he could cross the road again. Suddenly, Fuster Cluck was flung to the side where he slammed into a wall.

“Ouch,” I said with a sympathetic wince. “Come on, Foghorn. Don’t give up that easily.”

“Don’t tell me that you called me here just to…,” Chickenhawk said as he landed beside me. He looked at me and let out a long sigh. “Of course you did. There is no way that you’d be able to resist seeing Chickenhawk go up against a giant chicken.”

“You know me so well,” I responded with a grin. If I’d been a dog, my tail would have been wagging back and forth. Well, I wasn’t a dog, so my tail was elegantly swishing back and forth instead.

Fuster Cluck was already back on his feet, looking dazed from the impact but not out. All of his eyes began to glow at once, and suddenly, each of them fired out a beam of energy, going in every direction at once.

I wasn’t sure if I’d actually been hit, but in an instant, everything changed. The sky was pink. The building beside me was made of melting ice cream. The air itself smelled green. It was like I’d just taken a strong dose of devisor LSD and was on a serious acid trip.

Just a couple weeks ago, I’d been near that green fairy girl, Absinthe, when one of her little fairy escorts had accidentally been popped. When that happened, I’d hallucinated pretty badly for a couple minutes, and this was just like that.

My surroundings became even crazier and more surreal until I couldn’t even tell which direction was up anymore. Then, it abruptly wore off with reality snapping back into place.

“Now THAT was weird,” I said with a shake of my head.

“You can say that again,” Chickenhawk said from beside me before he quickly added, “But don’t.”

I looked around but didn’t see any signs of the oversized chicken, which immediately filled me with disappointment. Even though I didn’t care about his little robbery or about his getting away, I was annoyed by the fact that the encounter had been cut so short.

“Darn, he got away,” I said with a sigh and perhaps even a little bit of a pout. “And I never even got to use the joke about Fozziwig’s Rubber Chicken Factory.”

“You can do that next time we run into him,” Ryan assured me before shifting into his best Chickenhawk impression and saying, “We’ll get that chicken the next time.”

I burst out laughing at that. This was the best day ever.

Rochester NY, Monday evening, Dec 24th 2007

“Leave your cousin alone,” Uncle Dave warned.

Chris looked at his uncle in surprise, then at his cousin Ron, who had just been mocking and insulting him. Ever since Chris had manifested as a mutant, a lot of his relatives had been treating him differently, giving him odd looks and worse.

“He’s not even a REAL cousin,” Ron protested, giving Chris a look of disgust. Then he snorted and stomped away, muttering, “Whatever.”

“That boy just can’t help but make a scene,” Aunt Rose said from a short distance away, giving Chris a flat look to let him know who she was referring to. “So dramatic all the time.”

Chris bit his tongue to keep from responding. “It’s the Christmas party,” he quietly reminded himself. Christmas eve was the day when the entire family always got together to have a big dinner and celebrate the holidays. He wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it for everyone else, even if everyone else seemed determined to ruin it for him.

For most of Chris’ life, his cousins had teased him about not being a ‘real Matthews’, and that had only grown worse since he’d manifested as a mutant. Ever since then, the teasing had become a bit more hostile, often turning into outright bullying. And in spite of their mixed jealousy and concern, they were still confident that he’d never actually use his powers against them.

“Are you okay?” Chris’ mom asked as she came up. She ran a hand through her blonde hair before glaring back at Aunt Rose. “As much as I love your father, I’m not exactly thrilled with some of my in-laws.”

“I’m fine,” Chris told her. He wasn’t going to be the one who made a scene and ruined things for his parents.

The rest of the party was relatively quiet, though Ron and one of Chris’ other cousins did keep giving him dirty looks. He was thankful when things wound down and everyone else went home. Only then did Chris let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Chris’ dad told him. “I had a word with Dave about Ron, but…”

“But nobody listens,” Chris’ mom added with a shake of her head.

“Ron told me that nobody wanted me here at the party,” Chris finally admitted. He’d meant to keep that to himself so as not to worry his parents, but the words just popped out.

“Well, we certainly wanted you there,” his mom assured him, momentarily glaring at the door. In a quieter tone, she admitted, “Some of the others, I could do without though.”

Chris gave a weak chuckle at that. “It’s just…” He shook his head, fighting the tears that were starting to emerge. Thise had just been words, but they were words that hit him where it hurt. “My birth mom didn’t want me either…”

His mom threw her arms around him in a comforting hug, quietly saying, “She did… She wanted you very much, and she had a good reason to give you up. I know she’s regretted it ever since.”

“You’re just making that up,” Chris told her with a pained chuckle. “For all we know, she…”

“No,” Chris’ mom told him, pulling back and staring at him with a strange expression. “I know…because she told me.”

“What?” Chris asked in confusion.

His mom gave him a nervous smile. “I… I met with your birth mother a couple weeks ago…”

Chris’ eyes went wide at that. Was she teasing him? No, his mom wasn’t the kind of person to make that kind of a joke. Maybe she was just making something up to make him feel better. However, she looked way too serious for that…and way too nervous.

“You…you met my birth mother?” he asked awkwardly.

His mom nodded. “It turns out that she’s someone I used to know a long time ago.”

“That’s a big coincidence,” Chris responded, still feeling skeptical.

“It’s not a coincidence,” his mom assured him with a chuckle. “It turns out, she knew that I was looking to adopt…so she arranged for me to be the one to get you. Your birth mother picked me to be your mom.”

“What?” Chris gasped, staring at his mom in stunned disbelief. His heart was racing in his chest. “Who… Who is she? What’s her name? Can I meet her?”

Chris paused, suddenly realizing that he must sound like Melissa with the way he was just blurting things out without giving his mom a chance to answer. But this was important. He’d never thought that he’d ever have a chance to meet his birth mother and ask why she gave him up.

His mom looked down, not meeting his eyes. Then, she finally said, “I’m sorry, but she asked me not to tell you who she was…” He gasped at that and his mom continued, “She… She’s not ready to meet you yet. She’s interested in you and wants to know how you’re doing but… I think she’s afraid that you’ll reject her.”

“Like she rejected me,” he spat out bitterly.

Chris found himself embraced in another hug. “She didn’t reject you,” his mom insisted. “She didn’t throw you away. She did the best thing she could for you…and it broke her heart.”

“But,” Chris started to protest, no longer fighting back the tears in his eyes.

“I’ll work on her,” his mom told him with a gentle smile. “The next time I talk with her, I’ll try to convince her to reveal herself.”

Chris nodded at that and wiped the tears from his eyes. His birth mother wasn’t ready to meet with him, but she was willing to talk to his mom. That was something, and it was more than he’d had before. And maybe, maybe one day soon, he could ask her why she gave him away.

“Enough with the serious talk,” Chris’ dad announced from the other side of the room. “It’s Christmas eve… We need to get the milk and cookies out for Santa.”

“Really?” Chris asked his dad. “I think I’m a little old to believe in Santa.”

“What?” his dad asked with a bit of a smirk. “You don’t believe someone can have amazing powers?” Chris paused at that and his dad continues, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Santa is some kind of avatar who hosts the spirit of Christmas or something.”

Chris stared at his dad, his mouth dropping open. Ever since Chris had manifested, his dad had been doing a bit of research on mutants and the different types of powers, and it showed.

“That…,” Chris started slowly, considering what his dad had just told him and all of the strange and unbelievable things that he’d seen at Whateley. After a few seconds, he grudgingly admitted, “I’ve heard of weirder things happening.”

With that, Chris went to the kitchen to get the cookies for Santa while his dad stood back with a triumphant smirk.

Manhattan NY, Tuesday morning, Dec 25th 2007

“Coal,” I exclaimed as I pulled the black lump out of the box it had come in.

It was Christmas morning at the Chambers house and I had been invited to spend the morning with them. I was looking forward to spending a little time with Ryan and Melissa, though this also meant that I also had to deal with Ryan’s sister Brandy, whom I wasn’t quite as fond of.

After a French toast breakfast, prepared by Brandy and earning a few more points in her favor as a result, it was time for presents. Melissa had immediately pulled one present out from under the tree and handed it to me, insisting that I get the ‘honor’ of opening the first present.

It was a small box, about five inches on each side and wrapped in festive green and red paper. There was even a fancy bow on top, along with a label that read ‘TO IMP, FROM SANTA’. And of course, when I opened the present, I found a nice lump of coal.

“It’s just what I always wanted,” I gushed, enjoying the look of surprise on Melissa’s face since she obviously hadn’t expected this reaction. “After all those years and years working my way up Santa’s naughty list, I knew that one day, I’d finally earn this… And it was all worth it.”

With that, I leapt to my feet and made a show of admiring the lump of coal, knowing that every eye in the room was locked on me. And since I had their attention, I held the coal up so that they could all see it as I began my acceptance speech.

“I would like to thank Santa for this greatest of honors,” I announced, swishing my tail back and forth behind me. “And I would like to thank the little people…the elves…who made this possible…”

At this point, Melissa was rolling on the floor laughing while Ryan was trying hard not to laugh and failing. He finally burst out laughing as well. Brandy stared at me as if I was insane, then glanced at her brother and niece, seeing how much fun they were having. Only then did she begin to chuckle as well.

Once I was finished with my antics, I sat back down and proudly announced, “This is going to get a place of honor on my shelf.”

“I’m sure you earned it,” Ryan told me while Melissa continued to giggle.

I carefully set the lump of coal back into the box it came in, grinning as I did so. Sure, it had been given as a gag gift, something that I could readily appreciate, but I really was grateful for the present anyway, and not just because of the laughs. This was the first Christmas present that I’d been given in over a decade.

“I suppose someone should hand out the rest of the presents,” Brandy said as she moved over to the tree and crouched down. “I guess you can call me Brandy Clause.”

“What did I get?” Melissa asked excitedly.

“Let’s see,” Brandy mused as she looked over the pile of gifts. “This one is for you…”

Melissa got the present and tore it open, only to pause as she pulled out a single pair of white socks. She looked confused until I began snickering, then she immediately knew who’d given her the socks.

“Everyone needs socks,” I explained, trying to keep a straight face. “These are devisor socks, guaranteed to prevent athlete’s foot and foot odor.”

“Really?” Melissa asked with a disappointed look on her face.

“Nope,” I responded with a grin. “They’re just ordinary socks. I just wanted to see the look on your face.”

Melissa glared at me and then stuck out her tongue. “That’s not funny.”

“Actually,” her dad responded with a chuckle. “It kind of was.”

“Socks should NEVER be Christmas presents,” Melissa insisted. “They’re a total waste of Christmas present space.”

“And lumps of coal should be given?” Brandy asked with a smirk of her own.

“That’s different,” Melissa responded with a pout.

“It always is,” Brandy said before handing Melissa another present.

Melissa saw that this present was also from me, so she gave me a suspicious look before tearing it open. A few seconds later, she held up a pair of goggles. Not swimming goggles, but larger ones with round lenses.

“Goggles?” Melissa asked curiously.

“Devisor goggles,” I told her, only to get a blank look in return. “Night vision,” I explained. “Along with some other things, like letting you see through some illusions and invisibility type tricks.”

“Really?” Melissa gasped, giving me a suspicious look.

“Really,” I assured her. “And these will even double as a mask when you’re in the arena.”

“YES,” Melissa exclaimed as she began dancing around. “I’ve got you now, Geist.”

Brandy stared at the goggles with an envious expression before asking me, “Where did you get something like that?”

“This place up north,” I responded with a smirk. “What was it called…? Oh yeah, the Santa Clause and his Old Lady Commune.”

“Now I know you’re messing with me,” Brandy said with an exasperated sigh.

“Actually,” I told her with a chuckle. “I got it from a guy I know. Sort of a grey hat type who will sell to both sides.”

Melissa jumped to her feet and put the goggles on, then looked around the room through the lenses. She hadn’t figured out how to activate the special vision yet, but she was still excited anyway.

“THANK YOU,” Melissa exclaimed as she threw herself at me and grabbed me in a hug. “Thank you so much…”

Brandy gave me a look of annoyance, suggesting that I may have just made her present look cheap in comparison. However, the present that she’d given Melissa for her last birthday had been a custom made jacket that Melissa was rarely without, so she clearly knew what the girl liked. I wasn’t going to count on my victory in the present giving game quite yet.

Then Brandy gave Melissa her present, a pair of red gloves. “These ones have a better battery than the last pair,” Brandy explained.

Melissa’s eyes went wide. “New zappy gloves,” she exclaimed as she jumped back to her feet in excitement. “I’ve been wanting a new pair of zappy gloves ever since my last pair burned out.”

“Built in joy buzzers,” I commented, not missing the smug look that Brandy gave me. “Touche.”

About this time, I decided that it was time to give Ryan my present. The shape of the package would have made it easy to guess what I was giving him, so I put some Styrofoam noodles under the wrapping paper in order to distort the shape and make it more difficult to tell.

“Thank you,” Ryan told me, giving the package a curious look as he began to open it.

I sat there silently, biting my lip as I waited for his reaction. A few seconds later, the styrofoam noodles fell to the floor along with the wrapping paper and ribbon, revealing a nicely framed painting of a cityscape.

Ryan stared at the painting in silence, carefully taking in every detail. I was about to burst from nervous anticipation. After all, I’d spent a lot of time and care to paint it.

“A painting,” Brandy commented before giving me a curious look. “Where did you steal this from?” She was only half joking.

“She didn’t steal this,” Ryan answered for me, a bit of a catch in his voice. “She didn’t buy it either. She painted it…”

“Let me see,” Melissa insisted as she moved closer for a better look.

At first glance, it simply looked like a painting of a cityscape, but closer examination would reveal the details, details that most people would never really notice, or at least, never understand.

The building in the very center of the painting, which first drew the eye, was the museum where I’d first met Ryan, or at least, where I’d first met him as Chickenhawk. I was there to pull a job and he’d shown up to stop me. It had been our first encounter and the start of our complicated relationship.

In the shadow of this building were the silhouettes of the two of us, locked in battle. They were subtle, carefully hidden so that you had to really look to see them. And even then, most people wouldn’t know what they represented.

Another building showed where Ryan and I first met, with him as Ryan. It had been at an art show at a nice gallery. Each of these buildings in the painting were familiar, a place where we’d fought, where we’d gone for a date, or which had some meaning to the two of us.

And all around the city, hidden in the shadows and shapes, there were more images of the two of us. The one that I was most proud of, was the larger image hidden in the shading of two buildings, which if looked at just right, revealed us in a passionate embrace.

“This is amazing,” Ryan said, indicating a billboard which had a clear image of a very familiar looking cartoon bird. He chuckled at that, then sort of traced the images of us kissing. “It’s beautiful…”

“I’m glad you liked it,” I told him.

Ryan carefully set the painting down, then turned back to me. “I love it,” he told me. “Thank you.” Then he grabbed me and a moment later, the two of us were locked in an embrace that matched the one I’d painted.

“That’s quite the reaction,” Brandy mused as she looked over the painting with a confused expression.

“Now, for your present,” Ryan told me.

He went beneath the tree and pulled out two small boxes, handing me one while keeping hold of the other. I opened the package and found a jewelry box, and inside that, I found a gold metal card that was about the size of a standard business card.

At first, I was confused, but then I looked closer at the card and immediately began to laugh. On the face of the metal card, were the very recognizable words and images from a ‘GET OUT OF JAIL FREE’ card.

“This seems like a good match for the present you gave me,” Ryan told me with an amused look.

“Oh, definitely,” I agreed, grinning at the memory.

During one of our encounters as opponents, Ryan as Chickenhawk, managed to corner me. I responded by pulling out a card, straight from a Monopoly set and handing it to him. Of course, that hadn’t worked, but it had distracted him enough that I was able to escape.

“I can’t wait until I can use this,” I announced with a grin. “I love it.”

“And then, there is this one,” Ryan told me as he gave me the second present.

The second present was just a little larger than the first, though not by much. I saw Ryan’s look of anticipation while Melissa watched with a grin. Those reactions told me that this had to be an interesting present. When I opened it up, I found another jewelry box, but bigger than the last one. And inside of that, there was a necklace.

“It’s beautiful,” I said with a gasp.

There was a gorgeous pendant with a glossy black metal that matched my horns and scales, with a bright red ruby right in the middle. The whole thing hung from a fine chain that was made from the same black metal.

“My colors,” I announced as I carefully put on the necklace. Ryan helped with that clasp in the back. “How do I look?”

“It looks awesome,” Melissa told me. Ryan just stared at me with an appreciative look.

I just looked down at the pendant, smiling as I did so. It was quite a beautiful piece, and obviously one that had been picked out to match my own coloring. Being given jewelry by someone I cared for was quite a novelty for me, and one that I could easily get used to. In fact, I even had to wipe the tears from my eyes before I kissed Ryan in thanks.

“Now, we’ll have to go out sometime soon so I can show this off,” I told him.

After this, a few more presents were handed out, though most of the big ones had already been given. I’d bought a couple more small gifts for Ryan and Melissa, but those were mostly small items that were little more than glorified stocking stuffers.

Just a little later, once all the presents had been given out, Melissa suggested putting on a Christmas movie.

“But which one,” Brandy asked. “There are plenty of good choices…”

“I vote for Nightmare Before Christmas,” I suggested. “Or Muppets Christmas Carol…both classics.” Then almost as an afterthought, I added, “Or maybe even Angels with Filthy Souls.” That one earned me a blank look in response.

I might have suggested the Grinch, with Jim Carrey as well, as that was a good Christmas movie with lots of fun hijinks. However, there were a few elements of that story which hit just a little too close to home.

And thinking of notorious Christmas haters, I absently wondered what Krampus was up to. He was a supervillain over in Europe, who was known for only pulling one big job a year, while spending the rest of the year planning it. His jobs were always impressive.

Then my thoughts drifted to Fuster Cluck, and I felt just a little guilty for mocking him as hard as I had. If anyone knew what it was like to deal with GSD and the insults that came with that, it was me. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a jerk about it all…or if he hadn’t named himself THAT. After a few seconds, I decided that if I ran into him at the Black Mask, I’d buy him a drink as an apology.

While Melissa put on the movie, I climbed onto the couch and cuddled up next to Ryan, feeling quite comfortable where I was. Then, with a contented smile, I said, “God bless us, everyone.”

Rochester NY, Thursday afternoon, Dec 27th 2007

Chris sat on the hard and uncomfortable bench that was just inside the entrance of the store. He’d been sitting there for far too long, long enough that his butt was starting to go numb.

“Your mom should be done soon,” his dad said from beside him, just like he’d been saying every five minutes for at least half an hour.

“Sure,” Chris agreed without any confidence.

Chris’ family had gone out for lunch at a favorite diner, and afterwards, his mom had insisted that she needed to run into the store for ‘a few minutes’. Her quick errand of ‘a few minutes’ had stretched into an hour and then some.

“Just a few more minutes,” Chris’ dad said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than he was Chris. But after a couple seconds, he chuckled. “Who am I kidding. Knowing your mother, we could be here for another hour.”

“Maybe we should wait in the car,” Chris suggested. “Comfortable seats and a radio.”

“Not a bad idea,” his dad agreed with a thoughtful expression. “Not a bad idea at all.” But in spite of that, he made no move to get up.

Chris shook his head, then glanced at his watch, smiling faintly as he did so. He wasn’t used to wearing a watch or having something wrapped around his wrist like that, but he enjoyed having it. It was a nice watch, something that he was proud to show off.

The watch had been a Christmas present, though Chris wasn’t sure who’d actually given it to him. All he knew was that it had arrived in the mail, labeled, ‘To Chris, from Santa’. The same box had included a present for his mom, a DVD collection of some old TV show called ‘Laugh In’, which had immediately made his mom burst into laughter.

“That is so her,” Chris’ mom had said when she saw her DVDs, but she hadn’t explained what she meant.

“One hour and fifteen minutes,” Chris told his dad, using this as an opportunity to show off his new watch.

“Maybe we should head back out to the car,” his dad responded with a chuckle, only to pause and look towards one of the registers. “Or wait just another couple minutes, because Susan is finally about done.”

Chris let out a sigh of relief as he stood up and stretched. He could only imagine how much worse that bench was for his dad, who was old and didn’t have the benefit of mutant powers.

“Sorry I took so long,” Chris’ mom said when she finally rejoined them. She held up her shopping bags and added, “And I only came in for one thing.”

A few minutes later, they climbed into the car and began the drive home. Chris settled into the back seat, wishing that he’d had a bit more time to stretch his legs before sitting again, but at least the car seat was a lot more comfortable than that bench had been.

Then Chris suddenly noticed something from the corner of his eye. He snapped around and looked out the window, only to see a car barreling through the intersection without stopping, coming right towards them.

“LOOK OUT!” Chris cried a moment before the impact.

Manhattan NY, Thursday evening, Dec 27th 2007

I was settled comfortably into the couch with a good movie on the TV, a bowl of popcorn in my lap, and my boyfriend’s arm wrapped around my shoulder. I smiled contentedly, absently swishing the tip of my tail back and forth beside me.

“You know,” I told Ryan with a grin. “I do love a good heist flick.”

Ryan chuckled beside me. “Looking for new ideas, are you?”

“Always,” I agreed. “Besides, I’m teaching a winter term class on heists, and a little extra inspiration can’t hurt.”

“I’m signed up for it,” Melissa offered from where she sat on the floor with her own bowl of popcorn. “I can’t wait to do a heist.”

Ryan hesitated for a moment, looking like he was caught between amusement and concern. After all, as one of the ‘good guys’, he was usually on the opposite side of the heist and I knew that he definitely didn’t want his daughter doing that kind of thing.

I was tempted to tease Ryan a bit, but instead, I reassured him. “It’s mostly theory…the kind of things that security can use to prevent a heist and that law enforcement can use to investigate one afterwards.” I gave him a wry smile. “After all, Whateley teaches both sides, so I need to keep the class suitable for a variety of students, not just the ones wanting a criminal career.”

What I didn’t tell Ryan was that we were going to use the arena so the students would be able to plan and execute a heist of their own. I was really looking forward to setting that up, and as I’d said, a good heist flick was inspiring me with new ideas for how to do that.

Just then, my phone rang. I recognized the number as belonging to Elizabeth Carson and immediately answered with a cautious, “Hello.”

“Hello, Christine,” Carson said, her tone even more serious than usual. I sat up straight, realizing that this wasn’t going to just be a friendly chat. “Theres a situation with one of your students, and I thought you needed to know about it immediately.”

My eyes immediately went to Melissa, the student who was most likely to get into a ‘situation’, or at least, the one whose mischief I was likely to be called about.

“It’s Chris Matthews,” Carson told me.

I immediately tensed up upon hearing that name. Carson knew of my interest in Chris and why, which was clearly why she’d called me. Then as she explained what was going on, I gasped, “No,” and dropped the phone.

To Be Continued