Jamie flopped himself on the couch. He began to stare at the ceiling. The covered in tinsel ceiling.

"Oh my God! I like love the holidays!"

Jamie was taken out of his trance by the "valley girl's" bubbly voice. Kitty walked up to Jamie as the others entered the room sporadically.

"So Jamie, what'd you ask from Santa?"

Multiple turned to her in utter disgust. "I don't believe in Santa. I never did."

Kitty pouted. "Not believe in Santa? That's not right!"

Jamie stood up. "Well that's the way it is, so it has to be right!"

He then stormed out of the room, muttering something about our good old St. Nick.

Kurt walked up to her. "Katzchen? What was that all about?"

"The little guy doesn't' believe in Santa!" she practically shouted.

Kurt stepped back. "Not believe in Weihnachtsmann!"

Every one looked at the fuzzy elf, some cocking there heads in confusion. He sighed, "SANTA CLAUS! MEIN GOTT! DOESN'T ANYONE TAKE GERMAN!"

"Nope," replied Bobby nonchalantly.

Jean sighed. "That's really sad. How can someone not believe in Santa? That's horrible!"

Kitty nodded. "I'm Jewish and I believed in Santa! I remember, when I was a little girl, one of my babysitters, Mrs. Close, insisted on taking me to see Santa at the mall. She was such a sweet old woman! Always baked me cookies on the holidays, and would occasionoally go with us to the synagogue on Saturdays. My parents were a little stand off-ish, but they figured that if this neshomeleh- that means a sweet person- could go see Santa, why not me?

"Well anyway, Mrs. Close took me to see Santa. As I sat on his lap, he tasked me the typical 'What would you like for Christmas?' When I told him I was Jewish, he chuckled, you know, 'Ho Ho Ho!' That made me laugh too, though some of the kids began to cry. Then, he whispered in my ear, 'My wife's Jewish too.'

"I asked him if I could see Mrs. Claus, and he pointed to my babysitter! I spent a good four years believing that Mr and Mrs. Close were Santa and Mrs. Claus. It was so much fun!"

Jubilee smiled. "I remember my days as a mall-rat. I was fortunate enough to run across the Santa, the same one I went to as a girl He told me to wait for me by the book store.

"Well, I waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, I saw him come up to me. He had something behind his back. He had brought me food! It tasted so good! Better than all the crap I foraged for and stole. It was from the little Mexican restaurant down the road. Heh, I remember not knowing what to do with the food- I've never eaten this kind of food.

"He told me, 'Try it! You might like it. They're called tamales.'"

Sam smiled. "So that's where you got your love for tamales!"

Jubilee nodded. "After that, he told me that he couldn't bring my parents back. That they all went to heaven. He told me that someday, we all will go there. That's when I'll see my parents again.

"He asked me if I wanted a new home. I told him that I had ran away from my other parents, for lack of a better term. He then told me to show him my fireworks. I looked at him questioningly, at first thinking that maybe he was some sick old pedophile.

"He let out his booming, jolly laugh, explaining he meant my powers. When asked how he knew, he just smiled at me and said he saw me use them once, and was completely fascinated.

"I showed him, and he smiled wider than before. He told me he knew of others like me, with different powers, and he told me that I could come live with him and his wife if I didn't like the place. Obviosly I liked it: I'm sitting right in front of you."

Every one gasped. "You mean to tell me," began Bobby, "that you live here because of Santa Claus? That's freaking awesome!"

Kitty nodded. "So you all see that we need to get Jamie to believe in Santa Claus?"

Amara sighed. "Yes. But how?"