Hi, my name is Becks. I used to write Captain Planet fanfic. Nice to meet you! ;) Truth is, I STILL write CP fanfic...I just can't seem to finish them so they never get posted. But I had a little idea for Christmas (and you know how much I enjoy holiday fics!). It's NOT finished, but I don't plan on it being more than a few chapters so I'm confident I'll have this one completed by the new year. Since it takes place a few days before Christmas, I figured I better start posting. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making money from it. And thanks to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago for the information on Russian Christmas traditions.

Summary: Linka just wants to spend a nice Christmas with her family and friends all together on Hope Island. Will she get her wish or will an Eco-Emergency put a damper on her plans.


"One of these days, I'll have a real Christmas tree for Christmas," Wheeler says as he puts the top piece up on the artificial tree while Linka hums along to the Christmas music playing in the background.

"I think this one is very realistic looking, for being fake. Besides, cutting down a tree just to use it for decoration seems like a waste," Linka says while handing him a set of lights to start stringing on the tree.

"I'd replant a new one to replace what I cut down. I just never had a real one. Although this fake one is a million times nicer than the one I had growing up. That one was like a freakin' toilet brush."

She smiles and shakes her head at his colorful description.

"What about you? What was your tree like growing up?" He asks.

"Non-existent. Under communism, celebrating Christmas was banned since it was a religious holiday. It started to be more openly celebrated in the 1930s. But our celebration was very low key. A special dinner on Christmas Eve, followed by listening to my grandmother tell us stories of the legend of D'yed Moroz, Grandfather Frost, the Russian equivalent of Santa Claus. It was said that Grandfather Frost lived deep in the woods of Russia and came to town in a sleigh. Grandfather Frost had a reputation for bringing gifts to good children and forgetting those who were naughty. He could be both jolly and cold hearted. During the Christmas season, he would roam the streets, handing out toys to well-behaved children-and overlooking those who behaved badly."

"I'm sure you were one of the good ones...Did he look like Santa?"

"You know neither one of them are real, right Yankee?" She teases.

"NO! Say it ain't so!" He says in mock shock. "I meant, how was he SUPPOSED to look? In people's imaginations...or was that outlawed too?"

"Pretty much. There was no 'commercialism' of the holiday like there was in Western Europe and the US. But in the stories that Grandmuska told, Grandfather Frost dressed in red robes trimmed in white fur, his beard was snow-white and bushy, and long. Sometimes his outfit made him more like a wizard than the Santa Claus known in Europe who put gifts under the Christmas tree did. However, he did not come down the chimney because the houses in Russian cities had no fireplaces. He made house calls, delivering toys and gifts door-to-door. Some children opened their gifts on Christmas Eve, but others were told that Grandfather Frost wouldn't come until they were fast asleep, and they would find their gifts under the tree on Christmas morning."

"When did your family open theirs?" He asks.

"When I was younger, Christmas morning. When I was older and knew that D'yed Moroz was just a fictional character, we exchanged gifts after dinner."

"I always had to wait until Christmas morning...or afternoon. Whatever time my Dad woke up from his drinking binge."

"I promise I will not keep you waiting Christmas morning," she says as she kisses his cheek.

"Morning?! I thought you said you opened presents on Christmas Eve!" He pouts, putting his arms around her waist and holding her close.

"I told you, that was AFTER I stopped believing in fictional characters that deliver presents...you still believe!"

"Is that so bad? Wanting to believe that the good get rewarded?"

"When have you EVER been good?" She jokes.

"Last night? I don't recall getting any complaints from you," he leers.

"I think Santa would consider you were being 'naughty' last night," she counters.

"Yeah, but it sure was nice!" He says, bringing his lips down to nibble her neck.

She giggles, brings her hands to rest on the back of his neck, and plays with the sprigs of hair back there.

"We are never going to get this tree decorated."

"What tree?" He murmurs against her skin.

"Focus, Yankee."

"I am," he says, pulling back to look at her and then 'focusing' his attention on her lips.

She indulges him for a bit longer.

"Come on," she finally says, pulling out of his reach. "I thought the plan was to get this place decorated before the others get back."

"I have another idea of something we can do before the others get back," he says with a sly grin and pulls her back to him.

"Keep up this bad behavior and not only will I make you wait until Christmas morning to open your present, I will make you wait until MY Christmas morning."

"Your Christmas morning? What's the different between your Christmas morning and my Christmas morning?"

"About two weeks."

"Huh?"

"We still use the Julian calendar in the Russian church, not the Gregorian one used in western churches. The Russian Orthodox Christmas is on January 7th. I will make you wait until then to get your present if we do not have this place ready for our families' arrivals!"

"Ok, ok," he says as he reluctantly releases her.

"This is a big deal Wheeler," she says softly so he knows she's not really upset with him. "This is the first time your parents and my grandmother and brother will meet each other. I want everything to be perfect."

"It will be...but not because of some silly decorations...because we're together...FINALLY. I think both of our families are happy about that...Ma says you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Oh she does, does she?"

"I kinda agree with her."

"'Kinda'?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smiles and wraps his arms around her.

"You KNOW how I feel about you. I know this is a big deal...it's a big deal for me too. I'm just kinda nervous."

"Nervous? Why? You know Grandmuska and Mishka think very highly of you."

"I know...I'm worried about my parents embarrassing me."

"Is your mother planning on bringing old baby albums?" She teases.

"God I hope not! I just mean my mom will be making a fuss over us and my dad will be...well, my dad!"

"Ah...kind of like how I used to be worried about the other Planeteers teasing us?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And we endured it just fine. It was not so bad. Plus I am sure Grandmuska and Mishka are going to have a few comments of their own. We will just laugh it off like we did with the Planeteers. We know they approve. The only way we should be nervous is if they disapproved. THEN this gathering would be awkward and nerve wracking. Right now, I just want to finish decorating tonight so we can relax tomorrow before everyone starts arriving."

"Yes Dear," he says sarcastically.

He walks away to resume his light stringing duties while Linka hangs the stockings and she goes back to singing along to the Christmas music they were listening to.

"Yankee?"

"Yeah?"

She repeats the words being sung by Bing Crosby on the radio.

"You are all I want for Christmas."

He smiles and winks at her.

"Ditto Babe."


To Be Continued...