For the majority of the school year, the students of Casper High went about their business with indifference. School could be a place of amusement, but often it was merely where the government made them go for most of the day five days a week. Holidays were merely an excuse to get out and added nothing to anyone's enjoying of the place. But somehow, no matter what, no matter how the year had gone, all this changed the day before Christmas vacation.

Despite its name, the resident ghost-hunters, and the constant hauntings, Christmas in Amity Park was as merry and joyous as anywhere else in the country. Teachers who were normally as tough as titanium loosened up and let students watch movies and play games in class. Almost every club, team and organisation in the school did some major project for the season. Even most of the shallow, self-centred popular crowd managed to act generous (Paulina and Dash among the exceptions, of course). Decorating began on December the first, and by the time the last day before vacation came around, the school was like a Christmas museum.

It was in these festive settings that Mr. Lancer walked down the hall. He had discarded his usual teacher's uniform, instead wearing a Santa hat, a brown woollen turtleneck, and kacki pants. His hands behind his back, his eyes closed, and his mind content, he headed to his classroom, whistling the tune of "Jingle Bells" to himself as he walked. He passed right by the open door to the teacher's lounge, taking not the slightest notice of the flickering lights of the television set. On screen was a weather report. Had Lancer stopped to see it, he would have heard the predictions.

"…And we have that massive storm system coming in that caused devastation all over the Midwest," the weatherman was saying, "Responsible for several deaths, injuries, and power outages, the storm system has picked up strength and set it's sights on Amity Park, so get those emergency supplies ready, folks, 'cause we'll be needing them."

(He's a Phantom)
(Danny Phantom)

Yo, Danny Fenton, he was just fourteen
When his parents built a very strange machine
It was designed to view a world unseen

(He's gonna catch 'em all cuz he's Danny Phantom)

When it didn't quite work
His folks, they just quit
But then Danny took a look inside of it
There was a great big flash
Everything just changed
His molecules got all rearranged!

(Phantom, Phantom)

When he first woke up
He realized
He had snow white hair
And glowing green eyes
He could walk through walls,
Disappear, and fly!
He was much more unique than the other guy!

It was then that he knew what he had to do
He had to stop all the ghosts
That were coming through
He's here to fight
For me and YOU!

(He's gonna catch 'em all cuz he's Danny Phantom)
(He's gonna catch 'em all cuz he's Danny Phantom)

Gonna catch them all cuz he's Danny Phantom

"Ah, Christmastime!" Lancer addressed his class flamboyantly, "I love it so! Even more than Spirit Week! Presents, family, good will, peace on Earth…one couldn't ask for a more perfect meaning to a holiday!" for once, his fourth-hour English class actually agreed with his praise on a subject. Almost everyone in the class was dressed in Christmas garb, looking forward to the two weeks' vacation ahead of them. Everyone had something to look forward to; vacations, family visits, food, and presents…even if you'd long outgrown ol' Saint Nick, there was something about gift-giving on Christmas that made you feel five years old again.

"Now normally, I'd assign you a book report to do over the long break…" Lancer said, and some started to groan, "But for the Christmas season, we'll instead be watching a video I'd like to call A Muppet Christmas Carol," he pulled the video out from behind his back, popped it into the VCR hooked up to the TV he had brought into the room for today, turned out the lights, and hit PLAY. Within minutes, the entire class was engrossed in the rendition of Charles Dickens's classic tale. They watched Gonzo's introduction to the story, got through the songs of Kermit and the Marley brothers, and had just finished the visit to Scrooge's past when the bell rang, sending them off to lunch or their next period, depending on their schedules. Tucker and Sam were stuck waiting for the crowd to pass on their way to lunch. Lancer jumped out himself, skipping down to the cafeteria for some coffee before his next class.

"Ah, Christmas," Tucker smiled, "Three hundred and sixty-four days I spend waiting for this day. A time of reflection. A time of joy. A time of…"

"Mindless commercialism and corporate greed combined foolish childlike belief in idealistic worlds that can never come true, endless low-quality specials on TV, and people you know making annoying, drawn-out speeches?" Sam cut in dryly. Tucker's smile faded quick.

"Not another anti-popular thing!" he moaned, "Why can't you just ever be happy about a holiday!? You blow off New Years, don't even talk about Valentine's Day, lock yourself in your room on the Fourth of July, don't touch anything food-related on Thanksgiving…the only holiday you don't do some protest for is Halloween, and you don't even make a big deal about that! Get with the season!"

"There's nothing to 'get into,' Tucker," Sam remained defiant. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't any meaning left in Christmas or any other of the holidays Tucker mentioned. It was the same thing, year-in and year-out. The hideous mess of coloured lights was slapped onto every house in a tacky display more fitting for a sign for some sick-minded shabby building in Las Vegas, TV advertisements encouraging people to waste even more of their money on low-quality mass products became more frequent than ever, and always there were mass rushes to the malls and stores by all the people dumb enough to fall for such shameless commercialism. Little kids acted overly sweet, trying to earn "brownie points" with Santa Claus, while parents obsessed over buying gifts for older children who'd long outgrown such juvenile magic. Corporate tyranny played on such young fantasies by using all their foolish notions to attract them to low-priced toys that they would lose, destroy, or abandon before the next holiday. And her family…she didn't want to have to think about it until Christmas. They say "'Tis the Season to be Jolly," but there was nothing jolly about Christmas to Sam.

"You know, you can like stuff that's considered 'in' and still be unique," Tucker said.

"Oh yeah!" Sam said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I forgot all about that! Do what everyone else does and call it a symbol of your individuality!"

"I meant with holidays! Not everybody's unique at everything!"

"I don't try to be, Tucker."

"I'll say," he mumbled. Sometimes Sam was so hypocritical. She was always on his case whenever he went in with trends or social labels. What did she call her Goth act, then?

"Why does everyone always try to change my mind about this!?" Sam suddenly turned angry, "I don't like Christmas! Why can't anyone just accept that!?"

"Because you don't have a good reason!" Tucker shouted back.

"I have plenty of reasons!"

"Besides the anti-popular thing!? Name one!"

"I…" Sam stopped herself. It was true; she did have other reasons; but she'd never told them to anyone before. Not even her own family (like they noticed it happening to begin with). And she didn't feel like giving them to Tucker just so he could keep making fun of her.

"Forget it," she hissed, and, shoving Tucker aside, headed off to lunch.

----

Even the school lunches seemed to improve over the Christmas season, though considering the way they normally turned out, that wasn't saying much. So, to be on the safe side, Danny had brought his own lunch and was now eating away at his sandwich. Tucker and Sam hadn't turned up at their usual table, so he just sat, ate, and waited. After a few minutes Tucker came by, an annoyed look on his face.

"Man, can you believe Sam!?" he said, looking over his shoulder as if she was about to leap out and tackle him, "She's doing another one of her anti-cool things by refusing to do anything for Christmas! She won't even try to like it! How crazy is that!?" he waited, but Danny gave no answer. Danny was staring past Tucker into nothing, a rather indifferent expression on his face.

"Danny?" Tucker asked again, waving his hand in front of his best friend's face. That brought him out of his trance.

"Wha…? Oh, yeah," Danny nodded lightly, "Sure, Tuck. Weird," in no time at all he'd returned to staring into air like before.

"Don't tell me you have the holiday blues too!?" Tucker moaned.

"What? No!" Danny shook his head, "No, I'm…I'm fine, Tuck. It's just…don't worry about. I'm fine," it wasn't a complete lie, but not honest. The truth was, Danny really couldn't understand why he was feeling this way right now. Just last year Christmas had been his favourite holiday. He couldn't wait for it to come, and was as into it, maybe even more, than Tucker, Lancer, and his whole family. Like so many things different this year, he suspected it was his ghost powers that brought about this change. No matter what, he always seemed to be thinking about ghosts whenever something Christmas-related popped up. It was a tradition for the entire Fenton clan to come by FentonWorks for the holidays, and it was a tradition for Danny's mom to fail at an attempt to make cookies several days beforehand. In the past, the smell always reminded Danny of the holiday just on the horizon. This year, all it did was bring back memories of all the times he'd been fried by his various ghost-enemies. Any talk of magic or Santa Claus, and his thoughts instantly turned to what Desiree might be up to now. Reindeer reminded him of hunting, which reminded him of Skulker. And any Christmas special that involved some sort of creature trying to "steal" Christmas; even the Grinch; somehow reminded him of Vlad trying to take away his father's family. On top of all this, this year he didn't feel like he belonged in anything relating to Christmas. His ghost powers seemed to put up a wall between him and all the holiday spirit in the world. He'd been watching his family get ready for the season all month, and honestly, he felt like helping, joining in; he tried forcing himself to do so, but nothing came of it. He felt like he would disrupt the cheerful atmosphere. So he'd done nothing so far for Christmas, and quite honestly found himself feeling depressed and indifferent to the holiday.

"Am I the only sane one of us left!?" Tucker sighed, "What's with you two!?"

"Hey, I already said I'm alright!" Danny said, "I'm just not feeling like doing anything right now, is all."

"Ah, Mr. Foley," Lancer came running up to them, finishing the conversation, "I was on my way back from the cafeteria here, and there was a pencil on the floor, and the coffee went flying, and…" he grinned nervously, "You think you could take a look at my VCR?"

"Sure!" Tucker said cheerfully, forgetting about his arguments with Sam and Danny. He headed off to Lancer's room. Instead of following, Lancer sat across from Danny.

"Why the long face, Mr. Fenton?" he inquired, "Holiday blues?"

"I'm just…thinking," there was too much unease in Danny's voice to be believable. Telling lies or even half-truths to Lancer wasn't as easy as doing the same to Tucker. To his surprise, Lancer smiled.

"Danny, do the words Dickens, Disney, and Suess mean anything to you?"

"Why?"

"Good books. Good movies. Capture the holiday spirit perfectly. Take a look at them."

"You're giving me homework over Christmas break!?" Danny panicked.

"No, no, not homework. Merely suggestion," Lancer said simply.

"Oh. Thanks, but really, I'm fine. You should give that advice to Sam. I'm just preoccupied; Tucker says she actually hates Christmas."

"You know, I was wondering where she was. Usually you three are inseparable," he looked around. Sam was sitting off by herself, her head resting one hand propped up on the table and her other hand poking at her salad with a fork. Her expression was bored and dismal. She barely looked up when Lancer came over and sat across from her.

"Holiday blues, Ms. Manson?" he asked, making the same inquiries he had with Danny.

"If there was enough meaning left in this time of year to justify worrying if someone did have the 'holiday blues,' then yes," Sam muttered, "Tucker try to get you to get me into Christmas?"

"Not quite," Lancer said. Amazingly, he was not put off by Sam's rudeness, "I'm going to give you the same advice I gave Mr. Fenton; read through and watch Dickens, Disney and Suess," with that, the English teacher got up and headed out. Sam looked around and saw Danny, also sitting by himself. His also being negative this time of year was news to her, and surprising news at that. He always seemed to enjoy Christmas. For a second, Sam felt like going over to their usual table and joining him, but reconsidered. After her fight with Tucker she didn't feel like being around anybody that much, even Danny, and talking about the holidays might end up making both of them feel worse. With one last look up at him, she turned her attention back to her salad.

----

The second hand on the school's clocks seemed to go slower than usual as it approached the 12 at the top. Every student in the building (and even some of the teachers) had their eyes on the clocks. The second hand continued to tick away, the suspense mounting with each slight twitch up it made. Then, finally, it reached the twelve. The bell rang. The school seemed to explode from the inside out, everyone rushing out and to their rides. Cheering, paper being tossed high in the air, and jumping up into the air were among the expressions the students chose to employ. Even Mr. Lancer joined in (though he lost himself halfway up on his jump and ended up landing flat on his back). Last out of the building were Danny, Sam and Tucker, Tucker the only one looking excited.

"Freedom at last!" he declared, "And, with everything packed in the van, I go straight from here to our little vacation spot in Maine. Beats the traffic later on," he explained to Danny and Sam. Soon, he heard the honking of a horn, and a red van pulled up, supplies loaded on the top and in the back seat.

"And there's my ride. See you in two weeks!" he called back to Danny and Sam as he ran over. He scrambled into the van like a squirrel, shut the door, and was off with his dad. Danny and Sam stood alone in the doorway, the rest of the student body out on the grounds.

"So…" Danny finally said, "Have fun on break."

"Yeah…" Sam nodded, "Yeah, you two," they stood there for another few minutes. Then the Fenton RV pulled up, almost smashing into the car in front of it.

"See you," Danny said, and he ran over. Jack opened the door for him.

"Danny!" he greeted his son with a grin, "Hop in! We've got a big two weeks ahead of us. The whole Fenton clan headin' up here, your mother's cookies, trees, presents…if there's any time of the year ghosts aren't important, this is it! I've sent off Christmas cards to all my old college buddies and we have enough time to wing by the store to pick up a box of stuffing for the turkey!" he quickly pulled out and hit the gas, speeding towards the store. Jack's comments were now ringing in Danny's ears, and brought out memories of their time in Wisconsin, and how The Box Ghost had escaped yet again last week. With a sigh, he slumped down into his chair, his dad too excited to notice.

Back at the school, Sam looked around, waiting for her folks to arrive. She didn't have to wait long, nor would her car be hard to spot. The shiny black car pulled up, draped in as many flashing Christmas lights as most of the houses around Amity. Christmas carols were blasting away so loudly you could hear them from outside the car with all the windows rolled up. It was sickening, Sam thought. With a nasty scowl on her face, she reluctantly marched over to the car.