Cape High Christmas: A Side Story (Cape High Series) (11 page)

"I'm not going to try and put him in the Cape Cells," Marigold says, her irritation showing on her face. "There's a rule, in your school, that whatever Hall they came from, they go back to--"

"Not in Rocco's case. He's not related to any of your working capes, or affiliated with you, personally," Nico says. "He's a member of two Halls already, and I've gotten hints from a few others, as well. If he never wants to work with you again, he's perfectly in his rights."

"But he's still from my territory, which means
I
have the right to talk to him!" Marigold says. "Look, as much as I hate to, I'll explain what I want--and then you can tell him to talk to me."

Nico kicks his feet up on the desk. "I'm listening."

***

Rocco stares at his phone for a long, long moment, wondering what Nico was thinking by giving his number to Marigold. They don't get along, and that's putting it lightly. He'd have thought that his number would be off limits to the super that wants to put him in the Cape Cells--

"Answer it," Nico says over the phone speaker. Rocco jumps, accidentally hitting the accept call button.

"It took you long enough," Marigold says, her face appearing on the screen.

"Forgive me if I had second thoughts about answering," Rocco drawls, inwardly sighing. "You can't arrest me--all the stuff I've been doing lately is for school reasons."

"Sure, you SAY that," she starts out, only to stop. "Look, I want to be one of the helpers, or whatever it is you call them, for an advent day."

"And you call ME?" he asks, almost dropping the phone before he bursts out laughing. "YEAH RIGHT!" he hoots. "Do you really think I'd ask for anything from you?"

"I'm the one Hall Leader most closely associated with the U.S. Military," she says. He shuts up. "Now I'll admit, you and I will probably never see eye to eye, but how do you feel about our troops?"

"Oh," he says. He lets out a long breath, giving in. "Fine, I'll agree to let you help me--if I like what you have to say in the next... oh, let's say ten minutes," he says, just because it irritates her. He still hasn't forgiven her for chasing him for so long.

"I want to put together gifts and deliver them to our troops overseas," she says, going straight to the crux. "Showing them that our next super generation is willing to support them will boost morale. That I'm using a future super villain to do it, well, they probably haven't seen your debut."

"And what gifts will they get?" Rocco asks.

"I'll have supplies for gift packages sent to your school," she says. "Basic supplies, small luxuries, things that don't seem like much here, but you can't get over there. Your group can add whatever you want to them, just as long as it doesn't hurt morale instead of helping it. No war protesting crap, got it? I still don't like hippies because of that."

"Marigold," he says dryly, "we aren't STUPID."

"Tomorrow's your day, right?" she asks, ignoring that. "I'll have the supplies sent in the morning. I'll be there in the afternoon to go with you on the delivery."

"Delivery?" Rocco repeats, but she's already hung up. He groans and heads to bed, hoping to get some sleep and wake up to discover it was a bad dream.

Morning comes and Rocco hears his classmates shouting for him to wake up from outside. He groans and dresses, taking a shortcut through the Shadowlands to the platform at the top of the canyon. He already knows what to look for, after all. Most of the group is there, anyway, watching through the force field as a couple of delivery men unload boxes from the back of a black delivery truck. Nico walks up to the truck, wearing his Mastermental and puppets shirt, a coffee cup in his hand. He talks with the delivery guys for a moment before turning to the field.

"Everyone has clearance, come on out and grab a box or two," he tells them. They head out, looking confused, but Rocco doesn't explain until all the boxes are in the cafeteria, ready to be opened.

"Today's my day," he says to the entire school. "My helper is... well... it's Marigold." He waits for the shock to die down before going on, "Marigold is a big supporter of the U.S. Military--which I'll admit, makes her a teeny, tiny bit more tolerable in my eyes. What she suggested, and I--reluctantly--admit is pretty awesome, is making gift boxes for some of the soldiers overseas. They're the guys that won't be home with their families for Christmas. She's supplied a lot of stuff to put in boxes for them, but said we can put whatever we want in there with it, as long as it doesn't hurt morale. So if you want to draw pictures, or write letters, or maybe we can take and print out some pictures--" he looks at Nico.

"Yeah, I can put together a printer for that," Nico says.

"Then I figure we should get to work," Rocco says, opening the boxes. He runs into a box of cardboard pieces that fold into shoebox sized boxes. "Looks like we fill these," he says. "So grab a box and start filling it, then we'll take some pictures and put them in--think a school group photo would work?"

"We should wear our uniforms for it!" Carla says, placing her tenth box into a pile, all of them filled. Rocco hasn't even put his first box down yet. With the rest of them working, all of the boxes are filled in a short amount of time, but left open for the extra things. Ace is put to work placing illusions of drawings on paper for the others to trace. Jack is put to work making tiny metal Christmas tree sculptures for each. The rest of the kids settle down to write letters.

When that part is done, everyone changes into uniform, setting up for a quick photography session. The villains get one picture, the heroes get another, and then the various goofy pictures happen. Rocco's favorite is the picture of Trent and Max almost hitting each other--but he's pretty fond of the picture of him stepping out of a wall, too. The one of Emily and her doppelgangers posing together is pretty awesome, too, he admits.

They fill the boxes with random (signed in some cases) pictures and close them up. "So... how much is this going to cost to send?" Max asks, looking at the massive pile of boxes. They've been put in larger boxes, which are stacked until they tower into the sky.

"Marigold said she'd be here soon to help with the delivery part," Rocco says, looking at his phone.

"She's here," Nico says, tapping on the air before heading to the top of the canyon and walking out. A few seconds later he comes back in with Marigold, who gives him a dry look.

"Really... interesting security program," she says.

"I'm fond of it," he says. "Who will you need for this?" he asks.

"Who wants to help me?" she asks as they come down. "We have a lot to deliver, so no weaklings invited," she declares brassily, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, other than Rocco, there. We need him to take us."

"Thanks for your honesty," Rocco drawls. "So you're going to take the Shadowlands the entire way?" he demands.

"Are you too weak?" she asks.

"Well... no, I think I can do it, but you could have WARNED me--"

"So who wants to visit our troops?" Marigold demands of the group. "Speak up! Don't be shy!" Trent raises his hand high, quickly followed by Emily and her doppelgangers. Soon a third of the school has volunteered, even Jack. Marigold looks at him, and he proudly shows her his watch.

"Watch this," he says, tapping on it. His norm version stands there. "Besides, I can transport more boxes than most of them," he adds as his surfboard floats over.

"Fine, but keep it out of sight," she says. "Now how do we do this shadow-thingy, anyway? I've got the coordinates here," she says to Rocco, holding out a piece of paper. Soon, with some of the teachers' help, they're out of the school and grabbing boxes.

Rocco grabs Marigold's arm, to her surprise. "Everyone grab someone else," Rocco calls over his shoulder, hauling all of them and the boxes through the shadow. He looks around and head east, hoping he doesn't get lost. Twenty minutes later he sticks his head through a portal, only to blink as guns are aimed at him from all directions. The man sitting at the table straight ahead lets out a surprised curse.

"Who the hell are you?"

Marigold shoves in past Rocco. "Hello, Colonel Maveri," she says. "We've come for a little Christmas gift project I got clearance for last week. We've got a group of Cape High students here to deliver some presents to our troops," she informs him brassily. Colonel Maveri calms down, breaking into a smile.

"Marigold!" he says, holding out a hand. "Good to see you. We've been waiting for this. The boy's with you, then?" The guns are lowered, no longer aiming at Rocco, and the guards holding them start to grin.

"And the rest of them," she says. "Bring them in, Rocco," she says. Rocco reaches into the shadow and his hand is grabbed, so he pulls the entire group out, including the metal surfboard loaded with boxes. Whoops.

"Is that Cold Steel's board?" Colonel Mevari asks.

"Um, well--" Rocco says, hesitating. "This is PURELY a Christmas thing. Even Jack--"

"I'm a Cape High student," Jack says, reaching up and tapping on his watch. The illusion drops. "I might be a super villain when I'm working, but I don't got anything against the military, sir." Colonel Maveri raises an eyebrow slightly at the "sir" comment. "I AM a Liberty boy, you know," Jack adds.

"That's right, sir," Trent says, walking over to Jack's side. "For today, he's just my brother--a metal coated Liberty boy," he adds, flicking a finger against Jack's head to make a "ting!" noise. Jack doesn't even blink.

"Well, since you're with Marigold..." Colonel Mevari says slowly.

"If I mess up here do you REALLY think my family would let me live? You don't get more supportive of our troops than America's Son and Star Spangled," Jack asks. "Hey, if you want, I can call up Dad and have him come and watch me--"

"Can you?" Colonel Mevari asks. "The troops would LOVE to meet America's Son!"

Marigold just looks at the Liberty boys, crossing her arms over her chest. Rocco steps forward, though. "We can't--I can't have another adult helper, remember? If you want, sir, I can just stick him in the Shadowlands for this. It stinks and there are strange monsters in there, but I think he'll survive," Rocco says, making most of the group laugh and Jack give him a dirty look, "probably," he has to add.

"Okay, but we WILL be watching you," Colonel Mevari says, looking Jack in the eye. "Leave the watch off, some of the troops are fans," he adds reluctantly. "Besides, I trust Marigold with my life and my base, she wouldn't bring a threat."

"And yet you still make a big deal about it," Marigold drawls as they head the way out of the HQ tent and out to meet the troops. The entire base is made up of tents, which the Cape High students marvel at--until they start getting introduced to people. Soon they're drawn into handing out gifts and posing for pictures. The troops seem especially excited to see the Liberty boys.

Rocco steps back, leaning against a wall as Jack and Trent start talking to a large group of soldiers. To his surprise, Marigold moves next to him.

"I'm not going to apologize," Rocco says, not even looking at her. "The second time was ABSOLUTELY accidental."

"And the first?"

"I didn't steal anything!" he says, looking at her.

"Regardless, what you've done today almost redeems you in my eyes," she says. Rocco rolls his eyes. "Keep going that way, and I might just let you join my Hall," she tells him.

"Even if I'm a villain?" he asks.

"Same difference."

"How did you get so close to the military?" he asks, looking at her curiously.

"I was married to one," she says, looking over the group with a slightly sad smile. "I even enlisted to stay with him, back in the days. You'd be surprised at what sort of strings they used to pull to have a super out on the field--on their side, of course. When Mastermental stepped up as Hall leader, that all changed, of course. No one above a D-class is allowed to enlist, nowadays."

"So... where's your husband, now?" Rocco asked.

"He passed away--old age, before you ask, some thirty years ago. He was a great man. Ever since then, I've been doing my best to let our troops know they have people that love them." A little smile plays over her face as she turns to him. "And when I heard about the Advent Calendar, well, I knew I had to do this. So thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, giving her a grin. "If you keep this up, you might redeem yourself in my eyes."

Advent Calendar - Day Seventeen

Nico pulls to a stop as he enters the apartment, raising one eyebrow at the full-uniformed America's Son standing in front of him. He tries to walk around him, only to be blocked again. "Okay, what is it?" he asks reluctantly.

"I understand," Ken says, placing a hand on his shoulder, "why you did it, and I even agree," he goes on, "but we both know that we might have some very disappointed kids after tomorrow--not to mention the guilt that she's going to experience."

"If you really feel like that, do something about it," Nico says, heading up the stairs. "Talk her into letting you be her helper for the day."

"I... no, you're right!" Ken says, breaking into a grin. "I've been wanting to be a helper since this started!"

"Someone else might ask you later, you know--better get ready to do at least two days, if you decide to go for it."

"I would love to," Ken says, heading out the door. Nico snorts before heading up the stairs to his floor.

***

"Sandra?" The shadowy room is silent. A pair of eyes open slowly, looking at the door. "Sandra, this is Ken. Sweetie, can I come in?"

She hesitates for a long moment before groaning and running a hand over her face. "You're just going to keep knocking politely at my door until I say yes, aren't you?" Sandra says dryly. "Whatever."

The door opens and she stares blankly at him for a long, long moment. "HO HO HO!" he says, when she doesn't react soon enough.

"You came dressed like a dork," she says. "Whoopie." He's wearing black jeans and a T-shirt patterned to look like Santa's outfit, complete with a stripe of white down the front and a belt printed over the stomach. He even has a large black bag hanging over his shoulder and a Santa hat perched on his head.