Warning! This story contains some cursing and adult situations which may be inappropriate for some readers. This story is voluntarily rated PG for parental guidance. This story also contains religious discussion which may be offensive to some readers.

December 25, 2004, Christmas Day

Mike and Shadow were downstairs by seven am. Giggling and shaking presents like a couple of six-year-olds, and waiting for the inevitable arrival of the others. And eventually everyone did drift downstairs, piling onto the living room furniture with the coffee and hot chocolate Mike had made.

Raph was actually downstairs right after Mike, up early to feed Taiwam. Leo and Don and Splinter, then finally Casey and April made their way towards the tree. They were soon laughing at Mike’s antics and deliberately childish behavior. And in all the excitement, no one saw Raph slip a plain, flat package underneath Don’s pile of gifts. And no one saw Don shove a shoebox-shaped package behind Raph’s pile.

They all seemed to have forgotten the stress of the past week as Mike slipped a Christmas CD into the CD player/boombox they’d brought with them to the farmhouse. Leo and Mike argued good-naturedly about whether they should take turns unwrapping gifts or tear into them all at once. Eventually, it was agreed to unwrap the presents Leo’s way. And even Mike conceded that the presents would last longer that way.

So they tore to, teasing and laughing. Christmases past, so much had gone wrong; fights and wounds and near-death experiences. But this time, it was just family and friends around a tree, having fun and unwrapping presents together. The presents were also a far cry from those of Christmases past. The turtles had never had much money for gifts. And though they never complained about the lack of presents, it was nice to have them, now that they did have money. Even Leo had mustered enough cash to compete with his brothers. And Splinter didn’t need money to make his gifts meaningful.

Too, it felt good to the brothers to give nice gifts to their human friends. Not that a Christmas gift could make up for all the hardship Casey, April, and even Shadow had endured for their sake. But after all the three had given them, both spiritually and materially, it was nice to return something.

Raph got Casey a pair of top-quality bats; bats were easily broken in heavy fighting, and often had to be replaced. Shadow got a stuffed bear from Mike, who seemed to be obsessed with the things, but it was okay because Shadow was, too. April got some new books. Don got a new computer game he’d had his eye on, Leo got the bookcase from Don, and the others got assorted carvings from Don’s workshop as well. Mike got a stuffed animal of his own, which made him and Shadow laugh again. Raph got a collar and leash for Taiwam, which Casey had managed to find at the last minute. Splinter got a gorgeous kimono from April, which made him smile although he was sure she had spent far too much on it.

All in all, everyone (even Klunk, who had received a stuffed mouse and a box of Kat Krunchies) was happy and content.

Except, of course, for the dispute which lurked in all of their minds. They all saw it, in the way Don and Raph would smile tightly and look away when they were mentioned in the same sentence. Or how they pointedly ignored each other. But somehow, it didn’t seem to be a silence out of anger, but out of tension. And everyone noticed that Raph and Don hadn’t opened any gifts from each other, but they pretended not to notice. After all, if they didn’t want to exchange gifts, there was nothing anyone could-

Don slowly lifted one last gift, almost buried in the heap of wrapping paper under the tree. He flipped it over, checking the tag, and then looked up at Raph in surprise. Raph smiled, very, very faintly. Don made a slight gesture at the tree trunk. Up against the tree holder, Raph found a box nestled. He picked it up.

Mike watched the pantomime-like movements and wanted to laugh. He barely restrained himself. The glances the two darted at each other and the gifts, the slight movements of the mouth that might have been smiles. It was a shy dance of caution, and it struck him as tremendously funny. But before he could comment, Leo broke in:

“Hey, do you guys plan on opening those?”

“Or are you going to sit there and look at each other funny all day?” Mike couldn’t resist teasing. Don and Raph both glared before turning their attention back to the gifts.

“You first,” Raph said graciously.

“Uh, no, I think you should open yours first.”

“You go ahead.”

“You’re older.”

“Well, you’re younger. You should go first.”

“Really, I insist.”

“Oh, give me a break!” exclaimed April. “Quit being such babies.”

“Why don’t you both open them at once?” suggested Mike, stifling a giggle.

“Good idea,” said Don. Raph nodded.

“One,” counted Leo, on the verge of laughter himself. “Two...” The two were trying to look dignified and indignant at the giggles of their friends. But, Leo thought, It’s their own darn fault. If they weren’t acting like demented two-year-olds, it wouldn’t be so funny! “Three!”

Don and Raph obediently tore the gifts open. Despite the verbal fencing, they were equally eager to see what was inside...Don sat with the open gift in his lap, staring at what lay there. Newsboys, The Waiting, Jars of Clay--old stuff, it was true, the bands were widely popular in ‘98 and ‘99...But....his favorite bands....Christian bands....

His head jerked up and he stared at Raph, who had pried open the shoebox and now was holding up-with the faintest of smirks-the latest in grunge and hard rock; the same kind of music Donatello constantly criticized for its vulgarity and harshness of sound....

Splinter smiled knowingly, but everybody else just stared in slack-jawed amazement. Pure irony. They heard a strange sound and saw the corners of Raph’s mouth twitching; with a shock, they realized that both he and Don were struggling not to laugh. Don gave in first. He practically jumped the few feet to wrap his arms around his brothers shoulders, laughing helplessly. Raph began to laugh too, and soon they were holding each other up, howling with laughter as the rest of their family looked on in stunned amusement.

* * *

They lounged around the living room, trying to postpone the inevitable clean-up session. April, Casey, Splinter, Leo, and Shadow were lying on the furniture. Don, Raph, and Mike sprawled on the floor, their bodies pillowed by the wrapping paper.

Raph looked over at Don where he lay with his arms behind his head. “What ya thinkin’?” he asked, breaking the relaxed silence.

Don returned his glance. “You really want to know?” It was the first time in months Raph had actually expressed an interest in what he, Don, was thinking about.

“Yeah.”

“Luke 2:14; Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men.” It was a verse Don had always connected with; a little peace and good will was definitely a cool thing.

They all waited a beat, expected Raph to explode.

“Don’t ya mean ‘turtles’?”

A silent sigh of relief.

Don raised an eyeridge. “Peace on Earth, goodwill to turtles?”

Raph shrugged. “Well....why not?”

As Splinter sat in his chair, watching his sons laughing together, he allowed a smile of contentment to cross his lips. “Why not, indeed.”