As the lights of the proudly standing, beautiful tree twinkled in the dark, accompanied by the flickering of the black-and-white picture from the television, silence was finally taking hold of the active household, the end to yet another busy day. Ash, Misty, and Brock, wearied by just having the pleasure of a fun, easy-going day, sat side-by-side on the couch, their eyes fixated in carefree interest on the TV. A Christmas movie had kept them occupied for a good amount of the night, just what was needed for a wonderful Christmas Eve. Empty glasses of eggnog, trims of nutmeg rounding the edges, stood together on the coffee table beside a plate covered with the crumbs of what had been Christmas cookies, all devoured eagerly and happily.

The day had been long, and it was taking a toll on the kids’ droopy eyelids. But the feeling of Christmas, the wonderfully skeptical presence of the special holiday just a night away, kept them awake. They were too happy to sleep, too riled up to just settle in for the night. Misty and Brock were especially jittery, the thoughts of being home in mere hours to spend the first Christmas in years with their families making them considerably jumpy.

Smiles were spread across their faces as the movie’s final scene faded into the credits. At the same time, they all sat up and stretched. Ash yawned loudly as he did so, while Pikachu stretched himself out vigorously, claws extending and lightning-bolt tail stiffening as far out as it could.

Delia came in to see them loosening their cramped-up limbs and smiled. She didn’t know how many times she had come in that night just to watch them take in the movie, sitting so peacefully together. It had been a considerably lovely evening, the foreshadowing of what she believed to be a great day the next.

"You guys look tired," she said softly. The three looked around, slightly startled. Ash was the first to close his eyes and smile.

"Aw, we’re not that tired," he said.

Delia waltzed over, reaching over to rub her tired son’s head. "Yes, you are. You can hardly keep your eyes open."

"Yeah, Ash," Misty yawned. "It’s eleven o’clock, ya know. I’m getting sleepy."

"And we need our sleep," Brock added. "We have a trip to make tomorrow, you don’t."

Ash smiled weakly. "Don’t go," he begged softly.

"We’ll be back right after New Year’s," Brock tilted his head. "You can’t spend a few days without us?"

"No," Ash mumbled, frowning lightly. His eyes denoted that his pleas were playful, however, as well as the coquettish grin pulling at his lips.

"He’s hopeless, Brock," Misty said, rolling her eyes. "We’ve been around him too much and we spoiled him."

Brock nodded and chuckled, joining Misty as she gave Ash taunting looks. Delia watched them tease Ash, grinning. It was fun, but it was also getting late.

"All right, kids," she said, swinging her arms to direct them upstairs. "Time for bed."

"Mom, you don’t have to tell me when to go to bed anymore."

"On Christmas Eve, I do," Delia smirked. "Santa’s coming, after all."

"Mom!" Ash groaned, slumping peacefully.

Delia laughed, grabbing his chin and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Go . . . to . . . bed."

"O -- kay," retorted Ash, returning the kiss good-night. Letting Pikachu scamper ahead of him, he, Misty, and Brock gave their last good-night wishes to Delia and made their way upstairs.

They were upstairs for half an hour before Delia went to work, grabbing the brightly-packaged gifts from the coat closet. She worked quietly, making sure that none of the kids were going to come down, but nothing but silence came from the second floor. Smiling humbly, she delicately set the presents under the tree, a couple for Brock and Misty and two for Ash as well, including the one whose price easily outmatched all the others put together. Among them, also, were the kids’ gifts to each other, along with the presents that Tracey had brought and two presents for her. When they were finished, she held the diminutive, red-bowed box in her hands shortly before setting it down among the others, perched atop them all.

"Sleep tight, little Houndoom," she whispered, patting the box. "See ya tomorrow morning."

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

"Just a little more," James squeaked confidently, his eyes set deep in concentration at the hair pin pinched between his fingers. It was wedged into the lock of the back door, quietly clinking around the inside. "I think I got it."

"Hurry, James!" Jessie whined, though much of her tone conveyed encouragement. "I don’t think I can handle this cold any longer."

Narrowing his eyes, James fiddled with the pin more, praying that soon he would hear that welcoming click, their ticket in. He had done this before; his trusty pin hardly let him down. And it wasn’t going to tonight, either . . .

Click. James’ eyes widened happily at the glorious sound. "I got it!" he cried proudly, pulling the pin out and grasping the knob.

Jessie and Meowth were smiling wildly.

"Be as quiet as possible, James!" Jessie warned in heavy whisper. "This is one plan that we’re successfully going through."

"Right," James agreed, delicately turning the doorknob. The door creaked open softly and silently, much to their relief. As they entered the dark kitchen, the only light being the blindingly green analog numbers on the stove, they squinted to see where they were.

"Meowth, can you see anything?" Jessie asked.

"Not yet," Meowth replied, struggling to use his keen eyesight. It was very hard -- the house was very dark.

"We’re in the kitchen," James observed, not noticing the rolling of eyes performed by his teammates.

Jessie sighed. "We know that, James. I just wish we could see something."

"Are there lights around?" James walked slowly, yet aimlessly, around the room.

"We can’t use lights!" Meowth gasped, whispering. "Are you crazy?"

James searched for Meowth, though it merely resulted in his eyes darting around the dark room desperately. "Well, how are we suppose to do anything in this dark? I’m afraid I’m gonna trip or something!"

Jessie cringed as the last couple of words escaping James’ mouth were rather noisy. "Shh!" she hissed under her breath. "Would you two shut up? Your fighting is what’s going to get us caught."

Huffing, she promptly strolled over to the other side of the room, feeling her way around for the door handle to the refrigerator. It was their best option, hopefully full of more delectable options for them to feast upon. She hoped . . .

Finding the handle, she pulled the door open. The fridge’s bright light washed over the kitchen, casting their long, black shadows against the back wall. Narrowing their eyes at the light, the team managed to focus them into the refrigerator, at which they widened excitedly.

"Look at that!" Jessie exclaimed jubilantly, her mouth watering.

"I’ve never seen sometin' so beautiful!" marveled Meowth, tears springing to his eyes.

"It’s almost like a dream . . ." James cooed, clutching his fists.

Sure enough, almost as if it glowed with its own light, the huge, 20-pound turkey sat upon the top shelf in a pool of its own juices. The sight of the bird literally made the team’s knees buckle.

Jessie swallowed her saliva. "Ooh!" she squealed delightfully. "We’re going to eat well this Christmas!"

"Christmas?" Meowth exclaimed. "We’ll be eatin’ dat baby till Valentine’s Day!"

"I can’t wait!" James was in heaven. "Come to papa." He reached into the refrigerator and clasped onto the large pan beneath the turkey, groaning as he hoisted it up. The turkey rolled from side to side in the pan, staggering the weight around haphazardly. James kept a tight hold on it, and brought it to the table to rest the weight for a moment.

"Okay, we got da bird," Meowth said. "Let’s split!"

Jessie gave the Pokémon a face. "Split? What for? It’s warm here. And perhaps we’re not done yet."

"Are you still planning on getting Pikachu?" James cringed gently, and glanced at the turkey. "I think Meowth might have a point, Jess. I think we should quit while we’re ahead."

Jessie simply laughed under her breath, turning her head around and allowing her eyes to roam around the rest of the dark house. The light from the open refrigerator lit the place up enough, and quickly she walked into the living room.

"Jessie?" She ignored them.

The streetlights lit up the living room slightly, enough for her to make out the outlines of the furniture and the towering tree by the window. Remembering its glamorous illumination, a tiny grin formed on her lips. Kneeling carefully beside the base of the tree, she extended her arm around it, patting around for a plug. Her eyes rose when she hit something instead . . . a surge strip, which she flipped the switch of like a gleefully curious youngster.

She jumped as the tree lit magnificently, the tinsel flickering the light in all directions. The chasing lights darted around the tree continuously. A gentle smile swept to her face as she gaped at the tree, breathing softly as she felt the strong feeling of happiness take hold of her. James and Meowth had finally followed her into the living room, and they stood in the doorway now, looking down at her.

Jessie didn’t mind who was looking at her. Her eyes searched ecstatically around the tree’s surroundings, from the shining star up on top to the flowing red blanket around its base, where numerous presents of all sizes sat patiently. She couldn’t resist reaching out for the presents, her smile curving more dubiously and her interest sparking.

"What do we have here?" she asked out loud to no one, running her hand along the packages. It was the smaller one, however, that caught her attention. Maybe it was its size, maybe it was its availability, or perhaps it was the beautiful little red bow that adorned it.

"Whaddah ya have dere, Jess?" she heard Meowth ask, coming over to her to see what had captivated her so powerfully. He didn’t need her reply, though. "Oooh! Presents!"

Jessie grasped the small present in her hands, her eyes widening as she was shocked at how light it was. She snickered as she pulled at the tag, reading it aloud to her partners.

"To my Ash. Merry Christmas. Love, Mommy," she recited. She made a face of taunting disgust. "Oh, how wretchedly sweet."

"Heh, it’s the twerp’s gift!" James said. He had since knelt down beside her.

Meowth scowled. "Since when does he deserve a present?"

Narrowing her eyes, Jessie brought the gift up to her head and shook it. Whatever was in the box was quite large for its confounds, she could tell. She took her attention off of it for a moment and joined James and Meowth, who were taking little look-sees at the other gifts. They found some for Brock and Misty, and one more long-shaped box for Ash.

"Wonder what they could be?" James said, his voice full of mystification. He sounded quite enthralled, if anything.

Jessie was thinking the exact thing, although apparently at a different level than James. She didn’t say a word as she held the box that contained the valuable Pokémon in her hands, much to her unknowing. Something didn’t settle well within her. She didn’t know exactly how this perception came to her, but she couldn’t help pondering.

Misty and Brock only had two presents each, one addressed from Santa and one from Delia. Understandable, since the kids weren’t hers and she wasn’t entirely obligated to give them a gift, let alone two. But only two for Ash? Her mother had never been rich, that was for sure, but Jessie recalled always getting more than she would have expected on Christmas, sometimes four to six to ten presents. Jessie knew the twerp’s mother was well off financially, far better off than her mother had ever been, and that said a lot. Two presents were all that were under this tree for her son, the son Jessie knew Delia adored with all her heart and soul, enough to wrench her stomach but all the same wash over her compassionately.

Jessie held the package in front of her face for a long time. Why was this suddenly getting to her? Why had she become interested in this present? At that moment, it all came to her that whatever was in this box was not that cheap. She didn’t know where that idea came from, but it held steady within her. It was just a tiny box after all . . . but what possibly could be in that box to give an eleven or twelve or thirteen or however old he was kid? Smaller boxes for girls made sense -- jewelry, lockets, watches -- but for a boy?

"What do you think could be in here?" Jessie asked, holding out the box to James. He picked it up and looked at it, shaking it aside his ear.

He smiled. "Heh, maybe it’s a lump of coal!" he chimed, laughing.

Jessie laughed. "As much as I would love to believe that, I hardly think that’s what’s in it, James."

"Hmm," James answered, staring at it intelligently, his nose thrust in the air and his one eye cocked.

"Definitely coal," Meowth nodded confidently, snickering. "Guess dat kid ain’t as sweet an’ cute as he tinks."

"Oh please, Meowth." Jessie rolled her eyes. "It isn’t coal, you numskull. What could be in it?"

"Why do want to know so badly?" James asked her. "C’mon, we have the turkey, let’s leave before it’s too late!"

James got up, but Jessie remained kneeling on the floor. Her leather boots squeaked as she sat down, the box still in her hands.

"Jessie!" James barked in a whisper upon seeing her sit. "C’mon. We better go!"

"Yeah, Jess," Meowth encouraged, too. They were both heading out, but their heads were still turned over their shoulders at Jessie.

It hit her so suddenly. It almost zapped to her mind, making her heart pump. She knew what was in it. How that came to be known she had no idea, but it didn’t stop her from looking surprisingly at James and Meowth, who gave her weird looks to match her own.

"James," she gasped, biting her lip as a lopsided smile took over her mouth. "I think there’s a Pokémon in this!"

James’ eyes rose. "A Pokémon?"

"Yeah," Jessie smiled. She shrugged, looking crazily down at the present. "I mean . . . it seems so obvious now!" Holding the package out for him to see, she added, "A Pokéball fits perfectly in this box! How could we not know?"

James folded his arms in front of him. "Well, why not? What else would that brat want for Christmas?"

Not answering, Jessie looked at the present. Very slowly, a wide smile swept from ear to ear, and she stood, the package still gripped in her hand. James and Meowth’s eyes widened as they watched her come towards them.

"Jessie?" James asked incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"What’s it look like I’m doing?"

"Are you takin’ da twerp’s present?" Meowth exclaimed in disbelief.

Jessie shrugged rather casually. "Why not? Look at it! Could you imagine what might be in this?"

James was silent for a moment before responding. "But it’s his Christmas present, Jessie."

"So?" Jessie scowled. "Like Meowth said before: he deserves it? After all that kid’s put us through, it’s pay-back time. And what better pay-back than getting a nicely wrapped little rare Pokémon, hmm?"

James reached up to push some stray hair out of his eyes. "But it’s his Christmas present," he repeated, his tone low. His eyes clearly showed that he was shocked. Jessie slumped at this. "I mean, normally, I would agree with you, Jessie, but it’s the kid’s present, and . . ."

"And?" Jessie demanded.

"And that doesn’t seem . . . right," he finished, shrugging helplessly. He gazed at her skeptically.

"Right?" Jessie spat. "James, you gotta be kidding me!" She managed a small smile. She spoke slowly and directly to get her point across. "Look, James. In this package . . . who knows what’s in it?! It could be something like a . . . like a . . . Ninetales! Or an Arcanine! Or maybe even an Umbreon! Who knows?! It could be anything! Think of it! You want to know where our Christmas bonus is? It’s right here -- in this box. This box is going to boost us up on the Boss’ side."

Although her little speech was enticing, James’ quizzical stare remained. He shared a glance with Meowth, who didn’t look entirely thrilled about it, either, but the good coming out of the steal was beginning to grasp him. The Pokémon shrugged, and turned away, leaving the situation to James.

"What the big deal, James?" Jessie questioned. "This is not like you!"

"I know," James replied, shaking his head. "I know, but . . . I don’t think we should do that. Wait till he gets it, and then we can steal it."

"Why do that? It’s right here!"

James simply looked away, and Jessie slouched. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

"Do what you like," James said inaudibly. "I . . . I just don’t think you should, though . . ."

He turned away at that, grabbing the turkey in his arms and leaving the house along with Meowth, headed for their camp nearby. Jessie was left alone in the dim living room, the tree lights still chasing around and around. Her face wrinkled in confusion, she stared down at the gift. A sharp pang of excitement and longing ran up her spine and she shivered.

"Who cares?" she mumbled to herself. Without another moment of hesitation, she held the gift tightly in her grip and scurried out of the house.

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

There was no pounding down the stairs, no stampeding. It was not the break of dawn, nor was it even before that. No silent whispering, no snooping around, no tip-toeing. The joys of having older kids in the house on Christmas.

It was a reasonable hour on Christmas morning that Ash, Misty, and Brock decided to quietly awake and go downstairs. Delia heard them talking softly as they passed her door. She lifted her head from her pillow groggily and noticed that it was eight A.M., which is what she expected. Not only was Christmas morning a very exciting event, but there was also that bus that Misty and Brock needed to catch at ten in order to get them home.

Despite still being a bit tired, Ash felt a chill of spunk rush through him as he descended the stairs. He hadn’t done this in two years, and how he had missed it. The morning shone brightly through the windows, livening up the living room and making the tinsel glisten. His eyes sweeping from the top of the tree down, Ash spotted the presents at the bottom and grinned widely.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu cried, dashing down the rest of the stairs before them all, skidding to a spot below the tree. He looked up eagerly as the others came down, all smiles.

"Wow," Ash said, not being able to contain the little giggle that escaped him. He couldn’t think of anything greater than this moment.

"Ooh, yay!" Misty squealed softly, kneeling down beside the tree gently with Ash, who had knelt down as well. Her teeth gleamed as she spotted a medium-sized box wrapped in blue snowflake paper, a tag hanging from it sporting her name. She carefully reached out and grasped it.

Brock was standing behind them, and Misty playfully pulled him down. "Here, Brock," she said, grasping a present in the same paper. "This one’s for you."

It didn’t take long for Brock to smile.

"Hold on a sec," Ash said, holding them back with his hand. He had turned away from the presents momentarily. "Wait for Mom to come first."

Misty looked startled. "Okay, Ash," she shrugged with a small smile. "Does it look like I’m in a rush?"

Ash smiled and shrugged. "Nah," he replied. "Just to tell ya. Mom got upset when I used to do that."

"Oh," she said, smirking. "Well, I’ll have to keep an eye on you, then."

Ash poo-pooed it with a wrinkle of his nose, and turned back to the gifts. Misty and Brock were already holding theirs, so there was no harm in grabbing one for himself. Searching around, he spotted yet another blue-snowflake package topped with a silver bow. The tag read: To Ash, From Santa.

Smiling, Ash snatched the gift and held it in his hands. He trembled excitedly at what it might be. The feeling became one of impatience, and he hopped in place.

"Mom!" he called out loudly.

"Ash!" Brock narrowed his eyes at him. "Don’t be so loud! It’s Christmas morning!"

"Mom’s being slow," responded Ash, grinning. "I know she’s up! I can’t wait to open a present."

Misty got up and sat herself on the couch, placing the gift on her lap beside Togepi, who began to play with the bow atop it. Brock followed her. "Be patient, Ash, not greedy."

"I’m not greedy!" Ash defended himself haughtily. He turned his head back at the stairs. "Moooom! Come on!"

Brock and Misty could just shake their heads and roll their eyes. It wasn’t much of a surprise when they heard Delia make her way down the stairs in her red Christmas pajamas, giving her son a friendly, stern stare.

"I used to like sleeping on Christmas morning," she shook her head. Ash beamed boyishly.

"C’mon, Ma," he said, "I wanna see what I got!"

"All right, all right," she sighed, coming down and sitting on the couch, her eyes scanning around at the happy Ash, Misty, and Brock, each clutching their presents stimulatedly.

"Here, Mom," Ash said, reaching under the tree to grab the present he had gotten her. She smiled as she took it in her hands.

"Thanks, honey," she said. "But you guys open first. I wanna see what you got."

Ash tore open the gift instantly and pulled back the white tissue paper. His jaw dropping in elation as he pulled out the plastic coated item, causing Misty, Brock, and Delia’s heads rise to see what it was.

"Oh, awesome!" Ash cried. He stared down at his gift, a deep blue CD Walkman, complete with mini speakers.

Delia looked interestedly at it. "Wow, look at that. I think those speakers will be nice to have on the road, don’t you, Ash? You guys can listen to music now!"

"That’s great!" exclaimed Ash, lowering it to show Pikachu. "This’ll be fun to have, won’t it, Pikachu?" Pikachu sniffed at it and examined it, pricking his ears and smiling. Ash chuckled. He had wanted one of these for the longest time, but he never expected getting it. He didn’t even recall asking for it, making him wonder what other gifts were in store for him.

Ash didn’t go for another present, however, as he respectively turned his attention to Misty and Brock and watched them open their gifts. Misty was overly delighted with the collection of precious ceramic water Pokémon figures she received, while Brock ripped open his present to reveal a series of hard-cover, full color Pokémon books centered on breeding and beauty.

"Ooh, I’m gonna have to steal those," Ash giggled, pushing himself up on his hands to get a look as Brock delicately turned the pages of one of the books.

Brock sneered and lifted the book high above his head. "Yeah, right, Ash. Nobody’s handling these but me! These books are great."

"And we know how Ash is around delicate items," Misty snickered, holding the box containing her figurines protectively to her. "Don’t even look at these, Ash."

Ash gave her a face and shook his head. He otherwise ignored the dig at his ornament breaking two days ago and dove under the tree yet again.

"Okay, Pikachu," he said, handing the Pokémon a small bag, "here’s one for you, and here’s another for Brock, and this is for Misty . . ."

He handed Misty his gift, after which his eyes momentarily locked with Delia’s. She gave him a wide smile and raised eyes as he did. He smiled back a bit oddly, wondering why she suddenly was looking so frivolous.

"Say, Ash, I thought I saw a little red package down there for you," she said, gesturing to the base of the tree with her a nod of her head. She couldn’t stand the wait anymore, and gripped her hands restlessly. "Why don’t you see what that’s all about?"

Ash smiled and turned around. "All right," he replied, beginning to rifle through the gifts. Delia couldn’t see the presents, since Ash was blocking the view, and she wondered why Ash needed to search for it since it had been on the top. Assuming it just got knocked aside, she took a deep, happy breath and waited for Ash to turn around with it in his hands, face glowing.

"Um, Mom?" Ash asked, cocking his eye and scratching his head confusingly. "There’s no red present down here."

Delia’s brow furrowed. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Ash turned to her, his eyes shrugging. "I don’t see a red present down here."

Brock and Misty startled as Delia leapt off the couch, falling to her knees beside her son. Ash jumped back at her unforeseen action, his eyes widening in shock.

"Mom?"
He shivered uncomfortably as she tore through the remaining presents, her face becoming paler by the second. Ash threw a nervous glance at his friends on the couch, their jaws dropped in stupefaction.

"Oh, no," Delia moaned dreadfully when her rummaging abruptly halted, panic taking over her expression and voice. She bit on her bottom lip fiercely, causing Ash to become even more worried. "Tell me no!"

"Mom, what’s the matter?" he asked frantically, coming over to her. She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes glued to the scattered presents, frozen still in disbelief.

Delia swallowed the huge lump that formed in her throat. "No," she said again, her voice distant. "It . . . it can’t be . . . no, it has to be here . . ."

"What has to be here?" Ash demanded, his tone full of fear. "Mama, what’s missing?"

It was hard to turn to Ash and look at him. It was hard to do anything at the moment, as Delia’s head was spinning uncontrollably. Sure enough, among the presents that she had placed there that night, one was absent, the most important. It had not been tossed carelessly aside, as Delia had prayed -- it was gone. Slowly, she set her eyes in her son’s worried ones, which blinked in concern.

"Your present, Ash." Her voice shook. "Your present . . . it’s not here!"

"It’s not?" Ash asked, glancing down at the packages strewn under the tree. He noticed other presents addressed to him from Misty, Brock, and Tracey, but none of them were wrapped in red. It must have been his mother’s present to him.

Ash shook his head and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "It must be here, Mom. It couldn’t have gone anywhere."

His mother managed to nod, trying best to contain herself. Normally, she would not have worried so much . . . but this was not just any present. A living thing was nowhere in sight, the largest investment she had made recently. She couldn’t afford this trouble.

"You’re right, Ash," she murmured. "Presents don’t just get up and walk away."

Misty jumped from the couch and knelt beside them. "Ash, did you see that before? You were the first one here."

Ash tried to recall his first encounter with the presents, but he hadn’t paid much attention. The excitement had been too much.

"I don’t know," he said truthfully. He didn’t remember seeing one, but then again that didn’t mean it hadn’t been there.

Brock got up, placing his books on the coffee table. "Look around the other side of the tree," he said. "Or maybe under the couch. It might have rolled there."

Even though that seemed sort of preposterous, Delia didn’t ignore the suggestion. She couldn’t imagine Ash being so rowdy as to knock the present so far from where she set it, but she didn’t rule it out. She reached under the dust ruffle of the couch and swept her hand around, hoping to hit something. But there was nothing there. Meanwhile, Misty had gotten up and looked around the other side of the tree, but no bright red present jumped out at her.

Ash had gotten up and looked around the rest of the room, feeling ridiculous but still expectant. It was his present, after all, but that wasn’t the only thing urging him to find it. He gazed down fretfully at his distraught mother, who looked like she was about to have a conniption fit. He shuddered coldly.

After about five minutes of unsuccessful, panicky searching, Delia collapsed on the couch. Her head fell into her hands and she pulled at her hair anxiously. His heart thumping to his throat, Ash dashed to the couch and sat beside her.

"Mom?" he uttered nervously. She lifted her head and looked at him. "What happened to it?"

"I don’t know," she replied inaudibly. "It was here . . . I put it under the tree last night . . ." She trailed off and pulled Ash into a tight hug. "Oh, baby, I don’t know what happened to it."

Ash buried his face into her warm shoulder. "What was it, Mom?"

Delia pulled him out of the hug gently and gazed at him, reaching up to brush some of his uncombed bangs out of his face. He looked so worried, so sad . . . but hardly as sad as she probably appeared. He didn’t know the extent of the problem, after all.

"Oh, Ash, I don’t know . . ." she began, taking a deep breath, "I don’t want to tell you yet."

"Oh." Ash looked down.

"Ash, I promise you we’ll find it," his mom smiled softly. Her eyes glistened with on-coming tears. "I just don’t understand how . . . it could have just disappeared. It’s impossible!"

"It doesn’t make sense," Misty muttered, shrugging. "Unless . . . unless maybe . . ." She glanced down at Togepi and then at Pikachu, causing Ash’s eyes to widen.

"No, Misty, Pikachu wouldn’t have taken it," Ash protested. His glance met Pikachu’s. "You didn’t do anything with it, did you, Pikachu?"

"Piiika," Pikachu shook his head, waving his little arms about.

Ash slumped. "I didn’t think so," he said. He looked up at Misty and Brock. "Pikachu didn’t do it, and I didn’t think he would. Why do you think he might have taken it?"

Misty held out her one free hand in defense. "Hey, I’m not accusing Pikachu!" she exclaimed. "It was just an idea. Sorry, Pikachu."

"Pi," Pikachu nodded, smiling and taking no offense.

All of a sudden, Delia got up, reaching up to wipe her eyes. Ash figured it was either tears or her sleepiness.

"I need some coffee," she said simply, placing a hand gently on Brock’s shoulder as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. They remained silent.

Delia was astonished, her mind a mess of thoughts, all colliding together violently and recklessly. She dragged herself into the kitchen as if she was hauling a train behind her, shaking her head in disbelief. Reaching the counter, she leaned against it, much the way she had the night her ornament had been broken. She couldn’t believe this was happening . . . no it couldn’t be happening . . .

She lifted her arm up to get a coffee mug from the cabinets above her head. The coffee had already been prepared by the automatic brewer, and she precariously poured herself a cup. Her hand shook as she poured. The warm steam made her feel a bit better, but her heart was still pounding furiously. She placed the coffee pot back in the machine, sniffed hard, and went for the milk.

Delia nearly dropped her mug upon opening the fridge. The huge gap where her succulent turkey once sat leapt out at her, causing her jaw to literally drop to the ground.

"Oh my God!" she shouted so horribly that Ash, Misty, and Brock careened in barely a second later. They surrounded the refrigerator, their mouths agape.

"What happened to the turkey?" Ash exclaimed. Pikachu hopped onto his shoulder and gasped.

Her eyes wide in alarm, Delia slammed the mug down on the counter and glanced back into the fridge once again, hoping and praying that it was just an illusion, that she wasn’t really seeing this. It couldn’t be . . . no . . . how could her turkey just disappear?

"What is going on here?!" she cried between clenched teeth. "This is not happening!" The kids just stared aghast.

Shutting the door forcefully, Delia held her face frenetically. She began to pace the kitchen, her eyes shut and her head shaking back and forth. Ash, Misty, and Brock were rendered speechless, unable to grasp what was occurring. They all knew what had happened, of course, but the reality of it was far too shocking.

Delia stopped in her tracks and looked at them, totally in a state of disarray. "I can’t believe it," she gasped. "We were robbed."

A chill ran through Ash. "W-we were?"

"Did they take anything else?" Brock asked, inducing Delia to shut her eyes almost painfully. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what else might be missing.

"I hope not," was all she could reply. Needing to sit down, she rushed to the table and pulled a chair out. Her eyes stared at the ceiling.

"Kids, go back in the living room," she told them softly, not looking at them.

"But Mom," Ash said, "what are we going to do?"

Delia held her hand up and took a deep, calming breath. She knew she couldn’t be upset, that she needed to focus. "We can’t do anything right now Ash," she responded, giving him an easy gaze. "I want you guys to go in and finish opening your presents, okay? Let . . . let me take care of this."

"Is there something we can do?" Misty asked.

"No,’" Delia shook her head, trying so hard to fight the tears that were rushing to her eyes. This had never happened to her before, and as this event was unfolding before her, it seemed surreal. Especially being Christmas morning.

"Please, it . . . there’s nothing we can do just yet," she said. "I don’t want you kids to worry. I want you to have your Christmas morning, so please, go in and finish opening your presents, all right?"

They stood there instead, glancing uneasily at each other. Then, without a word, they sauntered into the living room and seated themselves on the couch, showing no enthusiasm to open another gift. Ash stared forlornly at the presents, not able to understand how this could have happened. Why was his present gone? And what was so . . . so special about it?

All the while, Delia had got up to pace the kitchen again, trying desperately to compose herself, to organize her thoughts. She didn’t know what to think or do. All she could think of was Houndoom, the Pokémon Ash should have been jumping around with at this time. Where was she now? Who had her? What disgustingly horrible person had her little boy’s Pokémon, and worse yet, what was he or she doing with her?

Suddenly, her head shot up. "Professor Oak," she mumbled, racing to the phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed the number, finding the tears starting to conquer her. The line ringed a few times.

"Hello?" Professor Oak sounded so happy at the other end.

"Professor Oak!" Delia wailed into the phone, the first sobs breaking coarsely through her voice.

"Delia?" he asked, panic rising in his voice. "What’s wrong?!"

"Oh Professor Oak!" she cried, feeling herself become hysterical. Steams of tears drained from her eyes and down her cheeks. "It’s . . . I was robbed last night!"

There was pause as this hit Professor Oak. "Oh my God, is everyone all right?"

"Yeah," Delia nodded. "We’re all okay . . . but . . ."

"But what?" he asked rapidly. "What’s missing?"

She cried loudly. "Ash’s present, Professor . . . they took it . . ."

"Houndoom?! No!" he gasped. "No, you’re not serious!"

"It’s gone, Professor Oak," Delia mumbled, her words garbled. She kept the present’s identity private as she knew she could clearly be heard from the living room. "They took it, and they took my turkey!"

"They took your turkey?" Professor Oak just sounded flabbergasted now. "Why would anyone take that?"

Delia sniffled hard. "I don’t know! But they did! What am I going to do?"

Professor Oak cringed as Delia began to cry even more boisterously. "Calm down, Delia," he tried to soothe her in the calmest voice he could produce. "It’s all right, everything’s going to be okay. Just calm down."

"I can’t calm down!" she whimpered. "What am I going to do, Professor?"

She could hear him breathing agitatedly at the other end. "Listen, first off, you should call the police. They’ll come to help you. I’ll be over in a little while, just as soon as I can get dressed. Okay?"

Delia could do nothing but accept. It was difficult, but she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered into the phone. She reached up to wipe her wet eyes.

"We’ll get Houndoom back," Professor Oak assured her. "I know we will. I’m going to help you, okay?"

"All right," Delia said. "But, why the present? Why couldn’t they take the TV or the stereo? Why the present? How did they know?!"

"I don’t know, I really don’t. Is Ash okay?"

"Sorta," she replied. "He’s trying not be act sad, but I know he is. I can’t believe this happened. My poor boy . . ." She trailed off into sobs.

"Okay, Delia honey, I want you to stop crying and calm yourself," he said comfortingly. "Please, don’t worry. I’m telling you this, I’m promising you, that we’re going to find Houndoom. All right? Just please, try to relax. I’ll be over in two minutes."

Shutting her eyes to block the tears, she took a deep breath to let his advice soak into her. She needed to take it, and she reluctantly nodded. "Okay," she squeaked through a sob. "Please hurry."

"I will," he answered. "Bye."

She didn’t even say good-bye back. Delia hung the phone up and shut her eyes, swallowing the rest of her tears. All she could do now was wait.

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

The dancing light of the fire wavered lightly off Jessie’s face, bringing out the curves of her humble grin. She was totally hidden in the large blanket except for her hands, which popped out of it and folded before her eyes. In her hands lay the little red package, the tiny bow still dressing it and the tag flapping gently in the wintry breezes. The humble grin slowly grew.

She was thinking about what was in the present, what wonderful, rare, and impressive Pokémon it could possibly be. Christmas had come and gone, and as the sun set behind the Pallet Town mountains and a huge chunk of the Ketchum turkey roasted on the spit above the flame, Team Rocket was just settling in for a scrumptious dinner and a good, long night.

"Will it be ready soon, James?" Jessie asked gently, her blue eyes darting from the present to her partner.

James nodded and beamed. "It took a while, but it sure is worth it!" He glanced at her fondling the present and quickly looked away, his smile diminishing.

Jessie smiled and looked down at the present once again, unopened. She had not even attempted to open the present since she had snatched it from under the twerps’ tree, and to be honest, she didn’t know exactly why. Thoughts of what it might possibly be stimulated her like nothing else, but at the same time she was pleasantly shaking, a little nervous to open it. Her anxiety caused the shivering, and each hour that passed made the feeling even stronger.

Jessie was going to open it eventually, but the excitement was too great. All day long she had gotten stares from James and Meowth, some of which were not all the pleasing. At times, Meowth looked a bit fed up, waiting for her to finally open the blasted gift to see if what they swiped was even worth it. James, on the other hand, didn’t look too happy. She even caught him glaring at her at one point, but she simply looked down, finding that gazing at the gift created a more powerfully positive, and not to mention happy, feeling within her.

She didn’t care what they thought. James was not enthralled with the idea, she knew that. But she would soften him up. As soon as he saw what was in this package, his mood would rapidly change. Jessie was almost certain of it.

Just as James was tediously ripping off some flaming hot pieces of the turkey and handing them to Meowth, Jessie suddenly burst. Her smile widened from ear to ear and she hopped up, her waiting process finally reaching its peak. She needed to know what was in the present, to know how big of a bonus they were going to receive and what their rank would increase to.

"I can’t wait any longer!" she proclaimed gleefully. "I need to know what it is!"

She grabbed at the bow on top and pulled it off swiftly, tossing it to the ground below her. But just as her fingers slipped under the taped paper to rip it open, she gasped as a thick hand grabbed hers, halting her in the process.

"Huh?" she uttered, startling. She looked up to see James staring down at her, his face flushed with concern.

Jessie narrowed her glare at him. "What are you doing, James?" she demanded, trying to yank her hand free of his.

"Please, Jessie, think about what you’re doing first," he replied, his tone begging. She scowled, not believing what was going on.

"I don’t understand you!" she cried. "All day long I’ve been looking at this present, and you haven’t said a thing! What gives now?"

James sighed and shook his head. "I thought you were thinking about it," he explained softly. "That you were trying to decide. I wanted to see if you would make the right decision on your own."

"The right decision?!" she spat. "James, what the heck is the matter with you?"

His pleading eyes glistened into hers. Breathing quite heavily, James’ face lowered. "Nothing is wrong with me, Jess," he answered. "I just . . . I just think this isn’t right."

"Since when do you think of things being right?" she questioned, causing James to draw back. She was right in a way; this was not the way he normally acted, but this time was different. If only she understood . . .

"I don’t," he admitted, shrugging. "I don’t usually care if things are right to do, but this is different."

Jessie turned away, but James clutched her chin gently and pulled her head back so that her attention would be his. "What you have there is somebody’s Christmas present, Jessie. Whether it be the twerp’s or some other little loser kid’s, it’s still a present, and it’s still theirs. This is different from anything else we’ve ever stolen. I want you to think about it, Jessie. Could you imagine not getting a present on Christmas? I don’t know about you . . . but I certainly couldn’t."

He released her chin after that and turned back to the fire, glancing down at Meowth, who had watched the whole thing speechlessly, a turkey wing clamped between his paws. Meowth’s eyes lowered from James’ to Jessie’s. Her mouth was agape as she stared at James’ back, almost like she was expecting more. When a few moments passed, she closed her mouth and looked at the present, making no movements as to continue what she had begun. Meowth could feel himself reclining, much to his confusion.

"I don’t care what you do with the present," James suddenly said, jerking Jessie’s head up. His back was still turned to her and he was speaking in an inaudible tone. "Give it to the Boss, get your raise, whatever. I just don’t want to be a part of it."

James . . . Jessie thought, blinking long and hard. She wanted to say something to him, but nothing came to her lips. Her words were locked in her mouth, bouncing around in her mind. Keeping her eyes once more on James for a quite a few seconds, she glanced down at the present, to that same tag she had read disgustingly that night to her friends.

To my Ash. Merry Christmas. Love, Mommy.

Turning it around, Jessie looked at the part of the wrapping she had slightly detached. She gently pressed the tape down again and twirled it upright. She wanted to know what was inside more than anything. This present could be their ticket out of the miserable life they endured, the difference between further neglect from the Boss or being handsomely promoted. What great things this one little present could bring . . .

But . . . why couldn’t they have it all together?

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

"Thank you so much for dinner, Professor Oak," Delia said gratefully, giving him a warm smile as he opened the door for her and Ash. "It was wonderful."

"Yeah, thanks," Ash smiled softly, zipping his coat to his chin. He held Pikachu snugly in his arms. "It was really delicious!"

"You’re welcome," he replied. "It’s the least I could do."

"Well, we really appreciate it," said Delia, resting her hands lovingly on her son’s head. She gazed down to look into Ash’s tired face, then smiled back at Professor Oak. "It’s been a hectic day."

Professor Oak nodded. "Yes, it has. I’m glad you came. I hope you had a nice time."

That morning, Officer Jenny had checked out the house for any clues supporting the robbery, but other than the unlocked kitchen door and a few tracks of dirt on the carpet, there were no dead giveaways as to whom may have been in the house that night. All she could do was promise to be on the lockout for the criminals, especially since it had been a Pokémon that was stolen. Delia filed the report, teary-eyed, as Professor Oak looked on with support. Ash, Misty, and Brock had sat silently on the couch watching the action and answering a few simple questions from Officer Jenny.

It had certainly been an odd Christmas morning. After Jenny had left, Professor Oak stuck around for a short while, talking to Delia and the kids and watching them open their remaining presents. It was not as thrilling as it had been previously, the joy having been completely sucked out of the occasion. It pained Professor Oak to see such sadness on such a lovely day, especially that of Delia and Ash, both of who constantly looked like they were about to cry. Ash fought the urge more than his mother did, but it was still present in his droopy expression and quiet voice.

When the subject of the turkey came up, the delectable dinner that Ash and Delia were to have feasted upon that night, Professor Oak made no hesitation to invite them to dinner with his family. They accepted the offer humbly.

They had a good time, but it didn’t seem that way the whole time. Delia had her down-spells when she glumly remembered the reality of what had happened, shaking and holding her head in her hands often. Ash was blue, which was totally expected and understandable for numerous reasons. Misty and Brock went home earlier that day, barely making their bus after Ash insisted on the prolonged hugs that he gave them. It was evident he missed them, being more quiet and withdrawn than he normally was. His normal spunk only made an appearance certain times during the night, and a lot of the time he looked as if he was engaged in deep thought. Probably thinking about his present, Professor Oak had figured.

The dinner had done them good. Professor Oak felt this, particularly now as he saw them out for the night, their smiles thankful and warm. He was glad that at least something nice was there for them, to help them through their dispirited Christmas.

"We had a very nice time," Delia replied. "Thank you."

"Oh, stop thanking me," Professor Oak grinned. "You two deserved all of it. I’m so sorry for what happened today."

Delia and Ash could only nod as the cold drifted through the doorway and into the house.

"Get home safely, okay?" Professor Oak said worriedly. "I don’t need anything else happening to you kids."

"I know, right?" Delia answered with a grin. "Goodnight, Professor," she said, ushering Ash out the door before her.

"Goodnight Professor Oak," Ash repeated. "Merry Christmas!"

"Pika pika!"

"Goodnight and Merry Christmas to you, too," he said, giving Delia a compassionate smile as they left. He then looked down at Ash. "And we’ll find your present, Ash. Don’t you worry now."

Ash smiled weakly. "I’m not worrying," he said. "I know we’ll find it."

Professor Oak nodded. "Yes, we will. All right, goodnight."

They waved good-bye as they walked briskly from the house and down to the car at the base of the hill. Professor Oak watched them attentively till they got to the car and began to drive away before closing the door.

Not three minutes later, Delia opened the house and let themselves in. She was sure to lock it in all places, wondering at the same time what was the purpose if the crooks got in anyway. When she was done, she turned to see Ash kneel down beside the tree to turn it on, staring up at it in marvel afterwards. She smiled, and gently knelt down beside him.

They looked at the tree together in silence for a few moments before Delia pulled her son into a tight hug, tears beginning to once again sting her eyes.

"I’m so sorry, my baby," she whispered into his head, cradling his head.

Ash hugged back. "It’s okay, Mom. You had nothing to do with it."

Delia tried to block the tears by shutting her eyes forcefully. This was not fair for Ash. Why did he have to suffer? Why couldn’t they have taken anything else? Nothing but the present and the turkey had been taken. Delia would have gladly handed over her money, jewelry, anything . . . to get back Ash’s gift. Would they ever find it again? She tried not to ask herself this question, feeling a pang of fear sweep through her each and every time.

"I promise I’ll get it back for you," Delia said fervently, kissing his cheek. "I don’t know how, or what I’m going to have to do, but I promise you I’ll find it."

Ash nodded, even though it was difficult with the hug he was restrained in. His eyes never left the glistening tree. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too," she replied, her voice still barely above a whisper. "I hope you had a least a little bit of a nice Christmas."

"I did," Ash said. "Professor Oak’s dinner was nice. I like being with his family. They’re really nice."

"I know," Delia smiled softly. "That was very nice of him."

Ash was quiet for a moment. "Did you have a nice Christmas, too, Ma?"

Delia sighed dolefully. "Yeah," she lied. "Yeah, Ash, I did."

Another pause. "Mom? I think I’m going to go to bed," he announced, breaking gently out of the hug. He placed a hand on Pikachu’s head and rubbed it.

"Oh . . . okay," she said, sounding a bit surprised. "Are you sure, honey? It’s kinda late, but you don’t have to go to bed. I thought maybe you’d like to watch a Christmas movie or something."

Ash smiled at his mom’s offer, but he shook his head. "Nah," he replied, shrugging. "I’m kinda tired."

Delia reached out and caressed his chin. "All right," she said. She smiled as Ash got up and stretched. "Don’t get too scared sleeping alone tonight, Ash."

Ash playfully scowled at her. "I’ll try not to," he giggled. He looked down. "I miss Misty and Brock."

She smiled sympathetically. "I know you do. They miss you too, I’m sure. You can call them tomorrow, all right?"

Nodding softly, he started up the stairs, Pikachu jumping up ahead of him. "‘Night, Mama."

"Goodnight, precious. Sleep tight."

"Okay."

Delia watched her son ascend the stairs, blinking haggardly. Poor little guy, she thought sadly. You don’t deserve this . . .

She stayed up after that, making herself cozy on the couch with a steaming cup of tea and a randomly chosen Christmas movie. She hoped that it would make her feel somewhat better, to try to boost her spirits. The movie was making an honest attempt, but after a while she just couldn’t care anymore. She left it on, but eventually her eyes began to droop and she would nod off into sleep briefly. Even after falling asleep and waking up many times, she still had no ambition to get up and go to bed. With the fire crackling beside her and the tree shining on the other side, she didn’t want to leave. The room was warm and comforting, a feeling that Delia felt considerably welcoming . . . a feeling she wished the whole day would have had . . .

STAY TUNED FOR THE CONCLUSION!