Jessie’s eyes were becoming fuzzy. She could feel them throbbing, stinging at the corners as they continuously watered. It was the fire, she figured, not blending well with the sleepiness that she had been fighting for a good portion of the night. Glancing briefly at her teammates, all snuggled into their thick sleeping bags with the zippers pulled way over their heads to beat the cold, Jessie shivered and brought her blanket closer to her.

Sleep was one of the last things on her mind. She was tired, all right, and the sight of the warm sleeping bags seemed extremely enticing, but she couldn’t settle in yet. There was something on her mind, something that had powerfully captivated her since earlier that evening.

Jessie lowered her gaze to the ground, setting her eyes on the little red present that sat gently and quietly beside the fire. It had been sitting there for quite some time, constantly stared at by the girl minutes at a time. Forcing herself to move from the long position she had cemented herself into, Jessie reached over and picked up the present delicately, feeling the same smooth paper slip against her skin as it had done since the first time she held it under the Ketchum Christmas tree. Bringing herself back into her comfortable stance and pulling her knees warmly to her chest, Jessie held the package carefully.

Her lips pursed as she rotated it. She was not getting the same jolt of thrill by holding it as she had previously. Nothing had been the same recently. Not since she had begun receiving the undeniably odd looks from James and the ambiguously hostile words he uttered. Jessie had thought that certainly by now James would have been enthusiastic, jumping about in excitement over what they had their hands on. Instead, he’d barely said a word to her from the time dinner was over till when he went to bed, muttering a listless "goodnight" and nothing else.

Meowth had kind of stuck neutral, not really caring what was to be done. As much as the thought of the present and what it could bring them, he also rationalized much of what James was saying. He never dared to say that he felt bad for Ash, but Jessie could sense it anyway. The Pokémon had given her glum looks as well throughout the night, but he had spoken more often to her and didn’t act as accusing as James was.

The wind blew roughly, rustling the tree branches above her head. Another shiver ran up her spine; not from the cold, but from the sounds around her. With the silence from her sleeping companions and the fire’s desolate crackling, she felt alone. But why was she feeling alone?

Jessie found herself looking at James. Through the bundled-up sleeping bag, she could catch a glimpse of his face and his stringy, blue hair popping out from the sides. Her mouth curved into a small, dreary grin. He was so distant tonight, so far away. Even though the reason for it Jessie knew, she still didn’t understand it. What had gotten into James? He was compassionate and sympathetic, but he’d never shown the side of him when it came to their heists. That was something he normally kept to himself, something that he applied only to their personal affairs and other situations that didn’t formally involve them. And for the twerp to boot! If James was anything like she thought he was, she would have figured he’d have been happily delirious over this event, totally up for it.

But he wasn’t, and it worried Jessie. No, it didn’t worry her . . . it frightened her. How James was acting around her was rare. It was rare enough to make Jessie’s stomach sink every time she thought of it, pondering what was making him think this way, and more yet, what she could to make it better. The intensity of disappointment in every word directed to her was not establishing well in her at all. She grew cold when she heard them, when she recalled them.

Jessie took her eyes away from James, allowing the pathetic grin to sink into a more distressed frown. She knew there was one way to make it all better. One way to bring back the James she knew. The words that he’d told her earlier, the prompting to go to the Boss with the gift -- without him -- and take the bonus, take the promotion . . . what did that mean, exactly? Certainly it couldn’t mean that . . . that if she didn’t give up the gift, they’d . . .

Taking a huge breath, Jessie attempted to clear her mind. It didn’t work. Nothing was going to work. She was hit with a choice, a most difficult one. It seemed so surreal, so delusional, and yet it was happening. It was true. Maybe -- maybe she would wait for tomorrow, and James would feel differently, but something was telling her no.

It was James or the gift.

Her eyes shut tightly and her teeth clamped firmly onto her bottom lip. The cold air struck her teeth fiercely. Wishing she could just sleep through the night and have everything turn out wonderfully in the morning was just a figment of her imagination. She knew it wasn’t going to go away, that James had fixedly planted the decision within her. He was a clever one, he was. If there was one thing he wanted her to do, he succeeded. He wanted her to think.

And Jessie had thought. The tag, its loving message in the beautiful cursive writing, struck her differently each time she read it. A few times, whether it be the result of her conscience or the tricks of her tiring eyes, she could see Ash’s name erased from the tag, replaced with her own. She was never going to get a present from her mother again. The thought brought heart-wrenching tears to her eyes, mixing together with the concept of what was occurring now. She wondered what Ash had thought this morning when he noticed his gift gone . . . what they had all thought. Ordinarily, Jessie would have delighted in such pathos, but something was different this time.

James was right. What Jessie had so disgustedly contradicted earlier was catching on to her now. It was cascading through her body and grabbing her, warring with every devious notion she held of the situation. Throwing one more gaze at James, who had since shifted in his sleeping bag to lay on his belly, she sighed. The fire was dying, the night was drifting on.

It was an effort to stand, but Jessie managed. Quietly, she stooped beside her bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the tiniest slip of paper and a pencil. Resting the paper on her knee, she scribbled a few words on it and thrust it under the bow of the present. Her eyes never left James as she left the camp quietly, holding the present with care and the blanket wrapped around her. With a defeated slump of her shoulders, Jessie headed back towards the Ketchum residence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For about the tenth time that night, Delia yanked herself out of slumber. Straightened herself once again, she nuzzling her back into the comfy pillow behind her, pulled her knees to her chest, and watched the television. She figured it was about time she went to bed, especially since she didn’t feel like conking out for the whole night on the couch. Not only did she find it irritating, since most of the time the TV would still be on, but she’d have to live out the day with the worst backache imaginable.

She stared at the TV for a while, her eyes becoming more droopy by the minute, barely taking in the old sitcom that ran before her. She needed to get to bed now, she knew it. It was the chore of actually getting up and taking herself to bed that held her back. It didn’t sound too desirable, but just as her head dropped and she could feel sleep taking control of her again, she shook herself, switched the TV off, and swung her legs out from under the blanket.

Groaning as she got up, she rolled her eyes at how she could allow herself to be up so late. She fussed over Ash about it; maybe Ash should begin fussing over her. Grinning at the thought, Delia yawned and slipped her feet into her slippers. Her feet dragged along the floor as she made her way to the tree to shut it off for the night.

Delia froze just as her finger was about to flip the switch off. Her heart leapt abruptly to her throat as she let out a small, frightfully startled gasp, her eyelids widening like flapping window shades.

Someone had just knocked on the door. No, they hadn’t knocked -- they had pounded. Someone had just pounded viciously on the door.

For a moment, she kept completely still, listening for another knock. She hoped, partly, that there wasn’t going to be another, that perhaps it was just her imagination, a trick caused by her sleepiness. Slowly turning around, she caught the time on the mantel: almost eleven thirty. Who would possibly be knocking at this time of night? Hopefully, no one . . .

The pounding came again, sounding almost angry this time. Delia’s heart raced even faster, pumping wildly in her chest. Her stomach tightened painfully, as did every muscle in her body. There was someone definitely at the door . . . but who? Delia wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out.

She didn’t dare touch the switch of the tree, leaving it on as she got up as quietly as she could off the floor. For a moment, she didn’t even want to move. Maybe the visitor would realize that everyone was asleep, that coming at this time was preposterous in the first place, and would leave. But then there was the strong, yet incredulous idea in Delia’s head that perhaps . . . perhaps this was the same individual that was there the night before, making sure everyone was asleep before making the next move . . .

Delia shut her eyes, her breathing becoming coarse. Her fear sky-rocketed rapidly, and she silently began to pray in her mind. She wondered if she should call someone, maybe the police, her neighbors. Just someone to help her in case something was in fact wrong.

After a few minutes, the knocking never returned. But that didn’t make Delia feel any better. She could see the no movement outside, nor could she hear anyone at the doorstep. She wondered if they were gone, or if they were just standing as silently as possible, hoping that she was going to open the door. Delia was frozen as solid as stone. There were so many choices, yet she didn’t know which one to take. However, when she did begin to walk, she found herself inching her way to the phone. Her eyes never leaving the door, she picked the cordless up gently, and turned it on, her heart not ceasing to thump insanely.

Cringing as each press of the buttons beeped loudly, Delia was overjoyed when the dialing was over. She brought the phone to her ear with her shaky hand, praying that the line would pick up. Help was all she needed . . .

The phone rang again and again. Tears coming to her eyes, Delia began to hop fearfully in place.

"Please pick up, please pick up," she muttered in a deep whisper into the phone, terrified hiccups breaking through her pleas. She wondered why she hadn’t just called the police . . .

"Hello?" It was had been about the seventh ring before Professor Oak answered the phone, his voice groggy, apparently being brought out of sleep.

Delia was too afraid to talk, but she forced her mouth to move. "Professor Oak," she squeaked, her tone conveying sheer terror. "Oh my God, thank you for answering . . ."

"Delia?" he asked confusingly. "What’s wrong?!"

"There’s someone banging at my door," she told him, beginning to chew nervously on her long fingernails.

"There is?" he asked, his voice lowering to the volume of hers. "They’re still there?"

"I don’t know," she answered, still whispering. "They knocked twice, really hard, but they haven’t in a few minutes. I’m scared."

"Don’t be scared," he told her. "Just stay away from the door and the windows. Be very quiet."

"I know, but it’s hard," Delia cried. "I don’t know if I should go get Ash and get out of here, or call the cops, or look out the window . . ."

"No no, I told you, don’t look out the window. Don’t do that. If you’re really worried, maybe you should call the police," Professor Oak suggested. His voice stuttered around as he fumbled to think of what to say. "Unless you want me to call them for you."

Delia thought for a moment. "No," she said. "I don’t . . . I don’t want to have a bunch of cops here right now. I don’t want to scare my boy. I just . . . I don’t know. . ."

"Look, do you want me to come over?" he asked. "I mean, I can drive by and see if there’s someone there."

Delia was silent again, her eyes blazing at the front door. No sounds arose, but she wasn’t sure if that was calming her or making her even more nervous. "Would you do that, please?" she said gently, her voice quavering. "Please? Especially if no one’s there, I don’t want to have the police here and all."

"Okay," Professor Oak answered reassuringly. "I’ll have my phone with me and I’ll call if I see anything. All right? Just please don’t be scared, I’ll be right over."

"Thanks," Delia nodded. "Sorry to be bothering you so much lately, Professor Oak," she added, unbelievably managing a shaky chuckle.

"No, it’s okay," he answered. "This is different. Let me go now. Just be careful, and don’t open the door."

"Okay."

"Bye."

Delia kept the phone clutched fiercely in her palm after turning it off. She remained perfectly still, her eyes darting nervously from the door to the window. She didn’t know what she would do if she actually caught someone looking in on her or attempting to break in. Everything was a swirl in her mind, and she found herself becoming slightly dizzy. Her fear of what had happened the night before, how someone had been in her home and she hadn’t even know it, made this unexpected event utterly horrifying.

Delia stayed that way for a good five minutes. What was taking Professor Oak so long? As the time rolled by, she began to tremble. At least the pounding had not returned, otherwise she wouldn’t have known what to do.

She nearly screamed as the cordless went off in her hands, breaking her from her ghostly, attentive silence. Fighting to catch the breath and calm her tumultuously beating heart, her shaky fingers pressed the receiving button.

"H-hello?"

"It’s me." A quivering smile pulled at Delia’s lips. Her eyes closed in thankful relief. It didn’t last long, however, as another hard knocking came upon the door, causing her to leap in place.

"No, Professor, they’re back!" he shrieked into the phone. "The knocking came back!"

"Shhhh," he hushed her. "No, Delia, no . . . it’s me. I’m at the door."

It took a moment for Delia to grasp this. "You are?" she asked, gulping. "It’s really you?"

"Yes," he said in an assuring tone. "I’ll knock again." Two knocks resounded. "Nobody else is here, don’t worry. It’s just me."

Though Delia trusted him, she still felt weary as she approached the door, her restless free hand extending to the knob. Before opening, she pulled back the curtains of the door windows apprehensively and poked her head around to see out. Sure enough, the professor stood on the other side, his cell phone attached to his ear.

"It is you," she laughed ruefully.

"Yeah, it’s me," he replied, waving to her from outside. "So, you going to let me in, or what? It’s dark and scary out here."

A smile sweeping across her face, Delia opened the door. Professor Oak grinned as their eyes met, bringing the cell phone down and switching it off. His other hand was behind his back.

Delia came out, her smile fading to a look of confusion and still a tad of nervousness, and scanned the area of her front yard. It was so quiet, so peaceful out. Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to settle.

"No one’s out here, Delia," Professor Oak said calmly, looking about as well.

Delia gave him a sad look. "You don’t believe me then, do ya? I must seem totally whacked-out right now, huh?"

Professor Oak did a sort of half-shrug, his eyes rising. "Oh, I don’t think that at all. There was someone here."

"There was?" Delia asked, her fear creeping back into her voice. Professor Oak immediately put on a smile to calm her.

"They’re gone now," he said, nodding and placing a hand on her trembling shoulder. "But they left something behind."

Cocking a confused eye, Delia nearly did a flip of shock as Professor Oak pulled his hand out from behind his back. In his flattened palm, Ash’s present sat wobbly, its bow and tag blowing softly in the cold wind.

Delia’s face illuminated in pure surprise, her eyes widening as much as they could. Gasping, she covered her open mouth with her hands, shaking her head back in forth in utter disbelief.

"Oh my God," she muttered inaudibly. "How -- w-where?"

Professor Oak smiled. "It was just sitting on the doorstep here. I couldn’t believe it myself."

Breathing heavily, Delia reached out to take the gift from his hand, holding it in astonishment. Slowly but surely, her bright, overjoyed smile swept from ear to ear, and out came a shriek of glee.

"I can’t believe it," she exclaimed, small laughs of skepticism escaping her. "I just can’t believe this . . ."

"And look," Professor Oak said, pointing to the slip of paper underneath the bow. "The person left you a message."

"Huh?" Delia lowered her head to read the scribble, reciting it out loud as she did so. "I’m very truly sorry. Please accept my apology, I know what I did was wrong. Please have a nice Christmas. I’m sorry."

They were silent for a second as they took it in.

"You didn’t see who this was?" Delia asked.

Professor Oak shook his head. "I didn’t see anyone. They must have just knocked that second time and left."

"Probably loud enough to just wake us up," Delia mumbled in assumption, her smile hardly beginning to diminish. She marveled at the unbelievable miracle that had just occurred. After all, whoever heard of a criminal that returned what they had stolen?

Realizing that she was keeping Professor Oak standing in her cold doorway, Delia suddenly perked. "Oh, come in," she offered, stepping aside to let him slip through. She closed the door, her attention never leaving the gift.

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked her, smiling.

"Ooh," she shook her head happily, "I gotta go get Ash. I can’t wait any longer, especially now. This is so unbelievable!"

"He’ll be in for quite a shock," replied Professor Oak.

Delia nodded, handing Professor Oak the gift. "Here," she said. "Wait down here while I go get Ash, okay?"

"Sure," he said. He then turned around and pointed towards the back door. "In fact, I’ll be out back. You know he’ll want to see Houndoom right away and I assume you don’t want that in the house."

Delia grinned. "You know me," she answered. "All right, we’ll be down in a minute."

Professor Oak nodded while Delia sprang up the stairs, all of her sleepiness completely expunged, taken over by stimulated excitement. She couldn’t wait to get Ash downstairs, to finally hand him the gift she waited so long to give him, to see his face light up in a way that made her body shiver with pure ecstasy.

Fumbling around in the dark hallway, she approached Ash’s door quietly and opened it just the same, not wanting to startle her poor boy and scare him half to death. She entered the dim room and tip-toed over to his bed, silently climbing up the ladder. Gazing over her sleeping son, his outline lit solely by the faint glares of the moon, she beamed.

"Ash?" she whispered softly, ever so gently giving him a shake. "Honey, wake up. Ash!"

She did this a few times before the lump under the blankets began to stir, and Ash began to moan tiredly.

"Mmmisty!" he grumbled in garbled tone. "Lea me lone, I wan sleep."

Delia laughed. "No, sweetheart, it’s Mommy. C’mon, wake up."

More grumbling came from Ash as he lifted his wearied head abruptly. "Mama? Whuz matta? Why you wake me up?" he mumbled groggily. His head fell to the pillow again.

"C’mon, Ash, I have something to show you," she replied warmly, pulling his blankets off. "You’ll really like it."

Ash sat up in bed, his hand immediately going up to support his sleepy head. "But Ma, I’m tired."

Delia giggled gently. "I know, honey, I know. But trust me, you gotta see it! C’mon now, come with me. Get up, get up!"

"Mmmmm," Ash moaned as he kicked his legs free of the blankets. Delia stepped off the ladder and stood at its base while Ash attempted to get down it, but with his sluggish limbs and dormant mind, he stumbled going down.

"Whoa!" Delia exclaimed, catching Ash in her arms as he fell into her. "Easy there. Be careful, honey."

"Mm-hmm," Ash replied, not attempting to let go of her. With a smile, she graciously held him in a loose hug as he finished the descent down the ladder. He was wobbly when he stood, nuzzling his tired head into her warm side and shutting his eyes. Delia stroked his hair as she escorted him out of the room.

Ash became more awake as they made their way downstairs. He was surprised to still see the tree lit, but he was more shocked to learn that it was nearing midnight. He didn’t understand what was going on. His mother never liked him up this late, so why was she waking him up at this hour? What could possibly be so important? Ash didn’t even bother thinking about it, as it was difficult to think of anything at that moment but sleep.

They stopped at the base of the stairs, and Delia left him to grab his coat from the closet. "Here, Ash, put this on. It’s cold out."

Ash scowled confusingly as she assisted him into the coat. "We’re going outside? Why?"

Delia smiled, then went to get her coat. "You’ll see," she happily replied. She called him over with a wave of her hand. "Come on, now. Hurry!"

Ash followed her through the kitchen and out the back door, still baffled as ever. He became even more confused when he caught sight of Professor Oak standing in his backyard, giving him a toothy smile as he walked out.

"Hi, Ash," he greeted energetically.

"Professor Oak?" Ash exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I dunno," he shrugged. "Was in the neighborhood."

"At midnight?" Ash asked, cocking his head.

Professor Oak laughed, but said nothing else. Ash was about to ask more when suddenly he felt his mom’s hand on his shoulder, and he turned to her.

"Ash," she said, her smile gleaming broadly. "I got a little surprise for ya, sweetie."

"What is it?" Ash asked. Delia grinned even wider as she motioned towards Professor Oak. Ash turned around once again to face the professor, only this time he had his hand out of his pocket, and in it lay a tiny red present. Ash’s jaw dropped.

"M-my present?" he cried, reaching out to grab it. He held it in his hands, an incredulous smile taking over his face. He smiled first at Professor Oak, then spun around to face Delia. "You found my present?! This is it?"

Delia nodded. "That’s yours, Ash. Merry Christmas."

"But . . . but . . ." Ash gazed at the gift with wide eyes. Delia and Professor Oak exchanged a short, cheerful look as Ash gaped over it.

"Where did you find it?" he asked, his voice climbing with jittery anticipation.

"Oh, that’s not important, Ash," Delia said, shaking her head. "What’s important is that we got it back. Go on, open it."

Ash looked down at it, his body shaking. He was too excited, too thrilled to even realize that it still needed to be opened. Softly, he pulled at the tag, and upon discovering that it really was his, he began to rip at the paper.

Delia could hardly keep the smile off her face as she watched her son unwrap it, almost dropping the present at times. Finally, he got it all off and held the box in his hands, hesitating none in pulling it open. The look of pure, undeniable happiness and shock exploded to his face as he found out its contents.

Ash was at a loss for words. In the box sat a Pokéball, bright and new. His mouth wide open in amazement, he carefully pulled it out and held it. Feeling its slightly heavier weight, it took no thinking to realize that there was something in this ball, that it wasn’t just a Pokéball.

His eyes darted to his mom, her hands shoved into her pockets with just the tiniest coquettish smile curving her mouth.

"What is it, Mom?" he asked.

"Why don’t you open it and see?" Professor Oak suggested.

The smile extended on Ash’s face -- a crafty, little boyish one. With a shaky hand, he tossed the ball into the air, letting out a motivatingly loud: "Pokéball, go!"

With a brilliant flash of light, the form of a dog-shaped Pokémon materialized before their eyes. The Houndoom’s head was lowered as she appeared clearly, and gave a swift shake of her fur, her ears flapping against her head back and forth and her devil-tail wagging between her legs.

"Oh, cool!" Ash hollered, his face lighting up with joyous shock. "It’s a Houndoom!"

Delia’s eyes widened immensely as she gawked at the creature, setting her shock on Professor Oak. "What do you mean that thing’s not huge?! Compared to what, a dinosaur?"

Professor Oak guffawed, just as Ash immediately turned to his mom, balling his fists. "You got me a Houndoom?!"

Giving a shake of her head, Delia laughed. "Yes, Ash, I got you a Houndoom," she replied relishingly.

Ash let out a whoop and jumped into her arms, grabbing her in the fiercest, loving hug his arms allowed him. He jumped up and down as they hugged, his excitement blasting into full mode.

"Thank you! Thank you! I love you!" he cried, reaching up to deliver his mom countless kisses to her cheek.

"All right, all right," she chuckled. "You’re welcome." He slid off of her and turned back to the Houndoom, who was now standing hunched in the cold air silently. Her eyes were wide and keen as she stared at the three humans before her cautiously.

Ash exchanged a short look with Professor Oak before he smiled gently at the Pokémon, lowering himself into a squatting position. He held out his cupped hand invitingly.

"Hi, Houndoom," he said carefully, watching the dog’s ears prick as he called to her. "Come here. I’m Ash. I’m your new trainer."

"Hou?" Houndoom stood still for a moment before walking slowly over to Ash, lowering her nose into his palm to sniff it. Ash lifted his hand and brushed it over Houndoom’s head, feeling her sleek black coat and the bony armor curved around her head. He massaged her comfortingly, allowing the Pokémon to relax at his touch.

Ash laughed quietly as Houndoom’s eyes shut in content at the petting. He couldn’t believe it. Now he understood what was so special about his gift. Where could it have gone, though? At that point, Ash no longer cared. As he heard Houndoom grumble in delight from the caressing, he felt a pleasing tingle shoot through him as he attempted to grasp the fact that this Pokémon was truly his.

"Looks like Houndoom likes you, Ash," Professor Oak said as he watched the two bond.

"Well, I like Houndoom!" Ash zestfully replied, turning once again to Delia. "Mom, thank you so much. This is the greatest present ever."

"You’re very welcome, Ash," she said. "I’m glad you like it."

Ash’s eyes returned to Houndoom, who looked up into the boy’s face interestedly. "We’re going to be great partners, aren’t we, Houndoom? Can’t wait to show you to Misty and Brock! And Pikachu, too! You’re going to like all of them!"

"Doom?" was all the Pokémon could reply. Suddenly, she thrust her head upward affectionately into Ash’s chest, nuzzling her snout against his face. Ash giggled as her wet nose brushed his skin.

Delia couldn’t help but admire the striking Pokémon whose head was cradled in her son’s hands. She didn’t care what the professor thought -- the thing still looked huge, but upon seeing its friendly and surprisingly calm disposition, she hardly worried. Tears pooled at the bases of her eyes as she watched the emotional moment, wondering why she hadn’t brought her camera out. Whether the creature was big or not, it was utterly gorgeous and Ash looked ecstatic beyond a doubt.

Suddenly, she remembered what Professor Oak had told her earlier. "Ash, you know, Houndoom’s probably really hungry. If you’re careful with her, you can bring her into the kitchen to feed her."

"It’s a her?" Ash asked, causing Delia to laugh.

"Yes, it’s a her," Professor Oak sighed. "I should have attached a sign around her neck saying: Hey, everyone! I’m a girl!"

The other two laughed, and Ash got up from his squat. "All right then! C’mon, Houndoom, let’s go get you some grub, okay?"

"Houn!" the Pokémon responded in a sharp bark.

However, before Ash was able to even start towards the house, Professor Oak spoke up. "Wait a second, Ash."

"Huh?" Ash stopped and looked back.

Professor Oak smiled. "That’s not all. I have something else here for you."

"Really?" Ash asked, his eyes lighting up in stupefaction. Delia looked just as surprised.

Professor Oak nodded, and unzipped his coat just enough to pull something out of his inside pocket. Ash stood silently as he watched him reveal a bright green envelope, which he handed to Ash.

"Merry Christmas, Ash," he said with an ardent smile.

Ash was shocked as he took the envelope from his hands. "For me?"

"Professor Oak!" exclaimed Delia lightly, a dubious smile coming to her lips. "You didn’t have to do that!"

"Yeah!" Ash agreed, feeling his body begin to shake again. "You didn’t need to give me anything."

"No, no!" Professor Oak negated, shaking his head whimsically. "I insist. After seeing how sad you were on Christmas, Ash, I wanted to give you a present. It’s just a little something, after all. Nothing big. I hope you like it."

Ash quieted, lowering his gaze at the envelope. It had no writing on it except for his name. He looked back up at Professor Oak’s smiling face.

"Go ahead, open it," he encouraged with a laugh.

Ash turned around to face Delia. "Can I, Mom?"

Delia was still flabbergasted over the overly generous offer. They never exchanged gifts with Professor Oak before, but seeing the smile on the professor’s face and the twinkle of gleeful hope in her son’s eyes, she nodded.

"As long as Professor Oak insists," she shrugged.

"Which I do," he confirmed, giving Ash a nudge.

Ash smiled humbly, turning the envelope around to pull out the folded-in tab. Inside was a long, check-like slip of paper, which Ash carefully took out. He set it in front of his face and looked over it silently, his face bunching in concentration. While Delia stood patiently waiting to see what it was, Professor Oak could detect the confusion Ash was experiencing. After all, the gift wasn’t that straight-forward.

"Do you know what it is, Ash?"

Ash looked a little sheepish when replying. "It . . . it looks like some sort of contract or something."

"Well, sorta," Professor Oak said. Ash looked attentively at him, waiting for clarification. "That paper in your hands there is what I received after I put a baby Stantler on hold for you."

Ash’s eyes widened and yet another exhilarated grin invaded his face. "A Stantler?!"

"Professor!" Delia exclaimed, shocked. She smiled.

"Mm-hmm," Professor Oak nodded, grinning at the responses. "You’ll be getting it in a few weeks. It’s just a few weeks old and it can’t leave its mother yet. But when it does, it’ll be all yours, Ash."

Ash was blown. "You’re serious?" His voice was high-pitched in excitement as he clutched the contract in his hands, wrinkling it.

Professor Oak shrugged kiddingly, giving Ash a what-do-you-take-me-for? look. To his surprise, Ash yelped and collided into him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Thanks Professor!" he cried fervently, pulling the hug tight. Professor Oak shook himself from the shock and hugged Ash back. "Thank you so so much!"

"Heh, sure," he replied, chuckling. "You’re welcome. You deserve it."

Ash pulled away and smiled up into his face, his brown eyes glistening with tears of happiness. He ran to his mom immediately after, hugging her once again.

"This is the best Christmas ever!" he shouted, lifting the paper up to show Delia. "Look, Ma, I’m getting a Stantler, too!"

Delia was at a loss for words as she smiled, shaking her head. "Well, what else is more appropriate for Christmas?" she laughed.

Ash laughed, too, and released her. Houndoom stood at his feet, looking up at him alertly. Smiling widely, Ash bent down and wrapped his arms around the Pokémon’s neck, resting the side of his face on top of her head. Houndoom maneuvered her head to lick Ash’s face, inducing the boy to giggle.

"Come on, Houndoom, you must be really hungry now!" Ash said, and the Pokémon barked again.

Ash started for the house then stopped. "Thanks again, Professor Oak!" he said, waving. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Ash," he replied. "Now go take care of that hungry Pokémon. And don’t lose that paper now!"

"I won’t! Don’t worry!" answered Ash, bounding into the house with the scampering Houndoom behind him.

As the screen door slammed shut behind them, Delia sighed peacefully, shaking her head.

"You’ve got a great kid there, Delia," Professor Oak said commendably, giving her a nod as she turned to him.

"I do, don’t I?" she agreed softly, gazing back fondly at the house.

"You sure do," Professor Oak laughed. "If he were one of my kids, he’d be asking: ‘What else did you get me?’"

Delia laughed, bringing her hand up to brush some of her stray hair away from her face. They were silent for a moment.

"Professor Oak, that was such a wonderful thing you did," Delia said kindly. "You didn’t have to do that, you know."

Professor Oak waved it away, scowling softly. "I wanted to do it. He’s a good kid."

Delia nodded, looking down at the ground. "Thanks," she said.

"You don’t know how much it bothered me to think of what you two were going through today," he said, shrugging. "As soon as you left tonight, I got right back in touch with those Houndoom breeders. They breed Stantler, too, so . . ." He grinned. "It was the least I could do."

"Well, I appreciate it, really," Delia replied, saying the same with her thankful face. "We’ve certainly made Ash happy, haven’t we?"

"I think we’ve given him a double heart-attack," he chuckled. "He has a lot of new work cut out from him, but he couldn’t be more thrilled. I know it."

Delia smiled and rubbed her chilly hands together. "Yeah, well I probably have more work cut out for me. I’m the one who needs to get him back to bed." She rolled her eyes in capricious agitation. She sighed fervently. "Well, it’s incredibly late. Guess we should call it a night, huh?"

Professor Oak grinned. "Not yet," he shook his head. "I, uh . . . I have something else."

"What?"

He reached into his pocket as Delia cocked a curious eye, wondering what else he could possibly have. He’d done enough that night . . . though she wouldn’t have been surprised either if it were the Houndoom bill.

It was hardly that at all. Professor Oak pulled a tiny box out of his pocket, much smaller than Ash’s present had been. Delia’s face lifted when she saw it.

"Here," he said, handing her the gift. "Merry Christmas."

Delia’s jaw dropped as her eyes set on the package. A present for her? She quickly shook her head and pushed his hand back. "No, no, Professor, you don’t have to do that," she said, giving him a languid smile. "You don’t have to give me anything."

"Yes, I do," he contradicted, extending his hand again. "Please take it. I’m insisting again. How could I give Ash a present and not you?"

Delia was ready to object, but as her eyes darted from the present to Professor Oak’s pleading smile, she carefully took the gift in her hands. "Thank you," she whispered. "You really didn’t have to."

"Oh, would you stop saying that? Just open it, please," he persisted placidly.

Delia gave him a fickle look before she gently tugged at the wrapping. Her eyes widened considerably as she pulled the paper off, revealing a jewelry box in her hand. Her heart leapt and she bit down on her lip, allowing her trembling hand to pull the box apart. Professor Oak just smiled as she did so.

"Oh my God," Delia gasped, her mouth agape in astonishment. She held the open case in her hands as the object twinkling into her bugged-out eyes. She reached in and grasped the precious treasure, a gold necklace. At the end dangled a Rapidash, pure gold as well, holding its front foreleg high in elegance. Its head was arched magnificently, but even more magnificent was the shine it flashed into Delia’s eyes, which were wide with disbelief. They slowly rose to meet Professor Oak’s.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his eyebrows rising.

Delia was at a loss for words for a moment, gazing down at the necklace in her hands. She let it suspend in front of her face, taking in every part of its beauty and worth. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was so gorgeous, so pretty, so very real . . .

"I -- I can’t take this!" she stuttered, shaking her head swiftly as she offered the necklace back to the professor. He gave her a slightly pained look but then smiled, pushing her hand back.

"No, it’s yours," he said calmly. "Take it."

"I can’t!" Delia insisted again. Her eyes flickered reticently.

"Don’t you like it?"

"Are you kidding me?" Delia silently exclaimed. "I love it, it’s beautiful! But I can’t take it! I just can’t accept it. It’s too much!" She looked down to gaze at the beautiful necklace again. Her fingers brushed gently along the Rapidash’s smooth body.

"I want you to have it, Delia," Professor Oak said. "After hearing how upset you were over your ornament, I knew you’d love this. I know it’s not your ornament, but I thought it would suffice, no?"

Delia was still in disarray. "But . . . this -- this is real gold and all! It must be worth so much, I can’t . . ."

"It didn’t cost me anything." He smiled longingly. "It was my wife’s. Her favorite was Rapidash, also."

"Really?" Delia sighed. "Then . . . then this must be special to you. I don’t want to take it."

"Trust me, Delia," he said, "you’ll get more use out of it then I will. Besides, it’ll be nice to see someone wearing it again." He cringed slightly. "That is . . . if you’ll take it."

Delia fell silent, her face ever so softly falling into a modest smile. "It’s so beautiful, Professor Oak." Her eyes gleamed. "I just feel bad. I have nothing for you, I’m sorry."

Professor Oak shook her head. "Your smile alone is all I could’ve wanted," he replied, leaning over to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. "Take care of that for me, okay?"

"O-okay," she answered, biting down on her lip.

Professor Oak pulled back his sleeve to find out the time, which upon he sighed deeply. "Guess I’d better be going. It’s really late, and you got a kid and an evolved Pokémon running around your house."

Delia brow furrowed. "Oh, do . . . do you want to come in for a moment? I can make coffee or something . . ."

"No," he smiled, shaking his head. "Thanks, but I really ought to be going."

"Okay." She looked down at the delicate necklace in her palm and then back at him. "Thanks again."

"Sure thing. Have a nice night, Delia. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she replied. She waved as he made his way around the corner of the house. Only after she heard his car start up and pull away did she walk calmly back to the house.

She shut the door behind her, leaning her weight against it as she slowly turned the lock. Pausing for a moment, she slid around to lean on her back, closing her eyes reposedly and taking a deep breath. Lowering her head idly, she opened her palm to take a glimpse at the necklace in her hand. A smile inadvertently crept to her mouth as she pushed it around with her finger, feeling its fragility and golden smoothness.

Suddenly, she felt a rush go through her as she gazed at it, her heart speeding up just a bit. She needed to breathe hard to settle herself. The necklace was truly beautiful, something she felt she didn’t deserve for some reason. Its beauty and shimmer seemed to stimulate her, the thought of where it had come from, its age and significance. As she looked at it more deeply, she found herself becoming mesmerized, the tiny Rapidash sprinting nobly in her mind. Professor Oak didn’t need to do this . . .

"Mom?!"

Her head was yanked up abruptly as her son careened into the kitchen, Pikachu and Houndoom hot on his heels. He skidded to a stop before her, his face positively glowing, giving her a strange, yet cheerful, look.

"Why is your face so red?" he asked.

Delia slipped the necklace into her coat pocket, shaking her head as she tried to find herself. "Oh . . . I -- I dunno. It must be the cold." She swallowed and smiled, extending her arms to invite him into a hug.

Ash melted into her arms, burrowing his head into her cold jacket. He didn’t mind, though; he was too happy to think of anything else. Pikachu and Houndoom watched on, their heads held in attentiveness.

"I love you, Mom," Ash said, his words muffled as a result of his head being buried in her side. "You’re the best."

Delia squeezed him hard, taking a deep breath in bliss. "I love you, too. I’m so happy you got your present."

Ash pulled away and smiled into her face. "Me, too."

Delia nodded, maneuvering her head to look down at Houndoom, her tail wagging gently and her head arching from the sudden attention. So that was what three hundred and twenty dollars looked like. It was worth every penny to her. Delia shook her head internally, wondering what a Stantler could possibly have cost Professor Oak.

"So, what are you going to name her, Ash?" Delia asked, stooping down beside Houndoom to stroke her head. She was amazed at the firmness of the creature, how powerful it felt at touch. Delia feared to wonder what it looked like when fire shot from the Pokémon’s mouth.

Ash smirked at her. "Mom, you know I don’t name my Pokémon," he said, shrugging slightly.

"Oh, but you got to name her, Ash," she replied, lowering her hand to scratch Houndoom’s chin. She looked utterly delightedly. "She’s special."

Ash sat down on the floor, whereupon Pikachu immediately hopped into his lap. Houndoom moved her head from Delia’s fingers and bent down to sniff the yellow mouse, causing Ash and Delia to chuckle. Pikachu just chirped happily as he reached up to touch Houndoom’s nose.

"Hmmm," Ash thought, rubbing his chin with his finger as he pondered a good name for the Pokémon. It was hard; he’d never had to do this before. But as Delia sat there smiling at him, awaiting his answer, he knew he needed to come up with a good one. After all, Houndoom was special, and he needed to do it for his mom.

"How about . . ." Ash sighed, looking around the room. Suddenly, he perked visibly. "Eggnog!"

Delia had to laugh. "I think that’s an adorable name, Ash," she agreed, placing her arm around his shoulder and brining him close to him. "Very appropriate."

Her son beamed, petting Houndoom’s head once again. "How do you like it, Houndoom? Would you like me to call ya Eggnog?"

"Hou!" she replied, letting loose her slobbery tongue over Ash’s hand. Her tongue was considerably warm . . . almost hot. But it felt great, and Ash giggled.

"All right, then," he said. "Eggnog it is!"

Delia got up, yawning. "How ‘bout some of the real stuff before bed?" she asked Ash, who got up right along with her. "It might help you get back to sleep."

Ash smiled. "Sure," he said. He looked down at Eggnog and Pikachu. "You want some, too, guys?"

"Pika!" Pikachu replied.

"Hou!"

Ash laughed. "Two more eggnogs, Mom."

After Ash set a bowl down for Eggnog and gave a small glass to Pikachu, he and Delia sat at the table with their own, watching the Pokémon playfully scowl as the liquid glided down their throats.

"You know what, Mom?" Ash asked after a short period of silence.

"What, honey?"

"This has really been the best Christmas," Ash nodded matter-of-factly, blinking contentedly.

Delia couldn’t have been more happy with that statement. She beamed. "I’m glad," she replied. "I guess after you look at everything and the way it all turned out, heh, you’re right. It has been the best."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why does it have to be so cold? Jessie thought miserably as she trekked back to camp, bundling the blanket around her shoulders. The walk back had seemed a lot longer (and colder) than the walk to Ash’s house. But as the faint glow of the fire caught her eye, she felt considerably better.

Jessie was surprised to see James sitting up before the fire, absent-mindedly poking it with a stick. Small sparks flew out into the dark as he did so. Upon hearing her approach, James startled slightly, his eyes widening.

"Jessie! There you are!" He began to get up but Jessie motioned for him to stay down. Her face glumly sagging, she set beside him and hunched from the cold, reaching her hands out to catch the fire’s warmth.

James looked at her worriedly. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently. "Where were you? I was so worried!"

Jessie swallowed and looked into his eyes, smiling wanly. She shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards the fire, sighing heavily. James’ eyes rose, and he managed a surprised grin.

"You didn’t do it, did you?" he asked, giving her a nudge.

Looking back at him, Jessie nodded again. "You were right, James," she replied inaudibly, the wind blowing her hair behind her.

James gave her a relieved smile, reaching his arm around her to pull her close to him. Jessie relaxed, feeling the extra warmth from his body spread to hers. Tiredly, she rested her head on his shoulder and allowed him to rub her side up and down. She shivered delightedly at the touch.

"I’m proud of you, Jessie," James said silently, squeezing her. "You did the right thing."

Jessie nodded, though it felt like a mere nuzzle on James’ shoulder. "I feel so much better about it, James," she replied, staring into the fire. She closed her eyes and nestled his shoulder. "It was hard, though. I mean . . . we had it right there, it was ours for the taking . . . but, I thought about what you said, and how wrong it was starting to feel . . ."

James chuckled, giving her side a small tickle. He felt Jessie jump. "I know," he said. "I’ll be honest, I was getting excited about it, too . . . a little. But then I thought about it being Christmas and all . . . I hope you haven’t lost respect in me," he giggled.

"No," she giggled in reply. "So, you’re not upset with me anymore?"

"I never was upset with you," James answered. "I mean, we’re Team Rocket, we’re supposed to do things like that. And especially you . . . being so dedicated and all, I think it took a lot of heart and guts to do what you did. I’m very impressed, Jessie."

"You are?"

"Of course I am."

Jessie face fell again. "Could you imagine, though, what we could’ve been with that present? How much better everything would be?"

"Don’t worry, Jess, we’ll have opportunities like that again," he replied reassuringly. "And we’ll get our respect sooner or later, I know it. Our day just has yet to come."

"You really think so, James?"

"I know so," he replied, resting his head on top of hers.

"How about Christmas?" Jessie asked weakly, her voice lowering. "Will we ever have a nice Christmas?"

James smiled, bringing his hand up to stroke her long hair. "Jessie, I promise you, someday we’re going to have the best Christmas ever. We’ll have a beautiful tree -- even more beautiful than the twerps’, and we’ll have a nice warm house with a wreath on the door, and we’ll have the biggest, most delicious turkey roasting in the oven . . ."

Jessie lifted her head softly. "Really?" she asked hopefully, setting it back down sleepily.

"Really," James replied, his warm breath blowing to her ear. "You and me."

"You and me . . ." Jessie repeated, her voice mumbling off into slumber.