Grace Allen truly enjoyed seeing Central City's downtown at Christmastime.

The windows at Field's, the popcorn at Garrett's, the lights up and down Midway Ave... they hadn't changed over the years.

Yet the magic seemed... dimmed, somehow.

As if she were walking all alone in a city with a couple hundred thousand other people.

She stood on the corner underneath Field's famous clock, with the sidewalks full as far as one could see in any direction - yet she had never felt more alone.

Suddenly she became aware of a young couple, hugging excitedly underneath the clock before going inside - likely they were meeting for lunch at the Oak Room ("a holiday tradition since 1854!").

Grace stood watching the door where they had entered, then turned and stalked off down the Avenue.

That was the problem in a nutshell, wasn't it?

She so wanted a boyfriend.

Not to brag to Deb or quiet her Mom's gentle (but annoying) comments. But to be the apple of someone's eye, to share that special bond... well, that was something she had never had happen.

Never.

Her mother said she was impatient. Could she help it if she was so much faster than everyone else?

Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she did give off... "signals".

Maybe -

There was nothing wrong with living single! She had friends, she had family, she had a job...

And, she smiled to herself, she had a hobby that took up a great deal of her spare time.

She had met a lot of nice men over the years. It only takes one to -

Her senses shifted into overdrive as she saw a young boy, about ten or eleven, dashing across the street, waving and shouting.

On any other street this would have been foolish.

On Carson? At lunch hour?

Deadly.

She heard the car's brakes begin to squeal, knowing that they would never stop the vehicle in time.

Thankfully, she smiled as she dashed past dozens of people suddenly frozen in place, time was something she regularly beat.

She dashed inside Lazurus, one of the local department stores, dodging and ducking to avoid all the shoppers in the aisles. Up the frozen escalator to the women's department - she hoped that one of the dressing rooms would be open!

Truth to tell she could have stripped down on the street so fast that no-one would notice. But for the same reason she changed into costume rather than just zip over and grab the child - someone might, and that was reason enough for her.

Besides, she wasn't about to strip down to her skivvies in public, no matter how fast she may be!

A slightly older woman in a dress was frozen in place, walking out of the dressing room. Three other ladies were in line, each carrying armloads of sweaters and skirts.

"Sorry, ladies - 'scuze me!" Grace said as she slipped in behind the exiting woman and slammed shut the door!

She touched a stud on her bracelet, and instantly her costume burst from the silver around her wrist and expanded upon contact with the air. She pulled on the soft white tights, decorated wth twin blue lightning bolts that cascaded over her shoulders and met in the center of her chest, and another thicker pair that cascaded down the insides of her legs. On went her calf-high white boots and her long white gloves, both trimmed with silver. Lastly she tugged blue metallic goggles down over her eyes, their silvery lenses serving both to protect her eyes and her identity.

She ran out by the still-frozen femmes, down the escalator again, out the door - and up the side of the building. She paused to tuck a bundle of her clothes by the air-conditioner, then ran down the side of the building once more.

A confident grin broke across her face, all trace of doubt gone.

She was the fastest woman alive.

She zoomed past all the passers-by, standing stock still, some in mid-stride. Families, lovers, folks shopping on their lunch hour. She dodged between the automobiles and trucks, frozen in time, and scooped up the child from in front of a truck whose driver had evidently just seen him.

Really not his fault, she thought as she slowed on the far corner - the kid did run right out in front of the truck.

Ah, kids - think they're immortal, she mused as the world resumed moving.

"What? Hey, how - ?"

"Easy, there, sport," she smiled. "You almost were hit by a truck, there."

The boy's eyes dawned with recognition.

"I know you! You're Slarity!"

Celerity smiled slightly. "That's right. Are you okay?"

The boy looked at his arms, then back at the heroine.

He shrugged. "Sure."

She crouched down in front of him. "Well, do me a favor and watch it when you're crossing a street, okay? Wouldn't want Santa to have to visit you in the hospital."

The boy smiled wanly.

"Santa doesn't visit my neighborhood," he said matter-of-factly.

Celerity started. What - ?

The boy smiled and said, "Thanks. I'll be careful."

And then he walked off.

Celerity stood and watched him go.

So Santa doesn't visit your neighborhood, huh?

Following the boy without being seen took effort, only because he moved so slowly.

Of course, to Celerity everyone moved slowly.

So, she read a textbook on particle physics - reading while following people was a habit she had picked up the night she went after Waterwitch. Granted, particle physics was hardly light reading - Dr. Hawking's explanations were extraordinarily long and detailed - but she finished the book long before the boy reached home.

Even though "long" was essentially a few minutes.

Long way to walk, she thought, for a kid. Why didn't he just take the bus?

Celerity took advantage of the open door and zipped inside, careful to set up a counter-vibration so that she would remain undetected.

Good grief, it was chilly in here - cold, even. It felt like Ice Baby had been visiting.

A single string of Christmas lights was thumbtacked to the wall in the rough outline of a tree. A woman sat at flimsy kitchen table, staring at the tree with tears in her eyes - tears she quickly wiped away when she heard the boy enter the house.

Celerity was back upon the Avenue almost instantly, zooming up the side of Lazarus to get her clothes, then ducking inside the store, dodging and weaving past the crowds standing still, to zip into one of the changing rooms.

An instant later, Grace Allen just... appeared... down near the jewelry counter.

With determination she marched down to the toy department.

Celerity dashed through the city streets, desperately looking for a Christmas tree stand that was still open. She had had her tree up for two weeks - it never occured to her that the sellers would shut down early.

She supposed she could have always cut one down, herself, but she had never done that and was uneasy about the prospect.

Finally! she breathed.

She zipped around the stand's twenty-odd remaining trees, sizing them up, examining them, until she settled on a nice six-foot Douglas fir.

She slowed into view.

"How much for the fir?" she asked a tall, somewhat gangly man who was packing his pick-up.

"Suh-Celerity?!"

"How much? For-r-r-r this one, here?"

"Celerity's getting a tree from me?"

Celerity just stood there and smiled. "Uhh, it's for... a friend. How. Much?"

The man somehow got his jaw back in place and rubbed his hand through his blond hair.

"Uhh, free. No charge."

"Oh, come on, now - "

"No, really. I'd just be leaving these here anyway. Gotta get home to Wisconsin."

"Wisconsin?" Celerity said. "Starting kinda late, aren't you?"

The man grinned. "Always the last of the dealers, I say. Had some car trouble yesterday - it's fixed now."

"And you just... leave the trees?"

"Why not? Aren't much use after Christmas. And it kind of helps out those who, you know, can't afford Christmas trees."

"Well, you're still here," Celerity smiled as she reached into her glove-pocket. "Please - let me -

"Urk!"

Celerity gasped as her legs were encased in solid ice!

The heroine fell over, her head striking the ground hard!

"Oog!"

"Oh-h, yeah!" a woman crowed, her dark skin set off by purple leotard cut high on her hips; the leotard had a jagged, ice pattern that dipped low over her large chest.

"Tha's what I'm talkin' about!"

"Unhhh... " Celerity moaned. Ice Baby... can't... move... so cold...

Grinning, she aimed her fancy rifle at the fallen heroine, and a light blue beam poured forth, pinning Celerity's arms under thick ice.

"Woo, hoo!" the ice woman said, strutting up to the prone heroine. "Tha's extra-dense ice, chickie an' before you can vibrate yer ass out of it I'm gonna make me a Celersickle - "

Boom!

"Leave her alone," the blond man growled, a thick branch in his hand.

Ice Baby struggled to get to her knees, cursing a blue streak. If only the world... would stop... spinning!

Unsteadily, she raised her gun toward the man -

And her jaw was rocked by a terrific punch.

Once, twice, three times, at furious speeds, Celerity hit her with her left arm - the right was still under ice, though that was melting quickly.

At last! the heroine breathed as the vibrations she had set up in her right arm cracked the ice into pieces. Quickly she pounded the ice off her legs.

Celerity stood, hands at her sides, her fists still clenched, her legs and arms free of the ice, breathing hard.

Not to mention she was cold.

Ice Baby lay sprawled across the parking lot, the rifle still in her hands.

"She didn't hurt you, did she Mister-r-r - ?"

"Ron. Ron Woods. No. You okay, Celerity?"

The heroine nodded, looking for any signs that Ice Baby wasn't totally out. "When you're young, you know -

"You recover fast."

"Heh."

"Thanks, Ron. Your slugging her gave me the time I needed to gather my wits - and vibrate out of that ice."

"No-o-o problem."

Celerity walked over to the unconscious Ice Baby and slowly peeled her glove, still attached to the gun, off her arm.

"Hypermagnetics," she explained. "Keeps me from swiping the gun when we fight."

Her arm began to vibrate at incredible velocity.

"Just... have to find... the right... ah!"

The gun shattered into tiny shards!

"Yow!"

She smiled at Ron's being startled.

"Everything... and I do mean everything... has a certain vibrational frequency that will destroy it."

She looked down at Ice Baby, who was just beginning to move.

"Some people keep changing their weapons slightly, to prevent me from doing that in combat."

She reached down and hauled Ice Baby to her feet.

"Go home, Aleysha."

"Wh-what?" the villainess stammered.

"You. Have. A. Daughter. Go home."

"I woulda had you if - "

Celerity sighed. "'If ifs and buts were candy and nuts what a Merry Christmas would it be.'"

She folded her arms as Ice Baby trudged off, dejected.

"She, uh, did try to kill you."

"It's Christmas Eve," the heroine shrugged slightly. "I'm not going to put a kid's mom in jail on Christmas Eve. Not for that."

"Ahh, look, I have to get going if I'm going to make it home by morning. Not like there's anyone waiting or anything, just I'd like to wake up at home on Christmas, you know? So just... take the tree, OK?"

Celerity stood looking at him for a moment - then she nodded.

"Merry Christmas, Ron."

Celerity stood in the long shadows cast by the moon, and adjusted her Santa hat.

She had borowed her Dad's entire Santa outfit, actually, and though it didn't particularly fit her - her curves were in other places, she noted wryly - it was enough to get the job done.

Santa Claus is comin' to town, she reminded herself - not Celerity.

Besides - this was going to be fun.

When she was certain that the lights were off in the tiny house, the sole light coming from the "tree" over the kitchen table, she went into action.

"Up to the housetop his coursers they flew," she recited merrily as she zoomed up to the roof. She wasn't about to try to go down the chimney, no matter how easy it looked on "The Grinch" - but she did want to have "the prancing and pawing of each little hoof".

She figured if she was going to do this it was worth doing right.

Celerity hurtled down the rear of the chimney at supersonic speed, counting on her years of experience to make sure she made the turn and didn't go plowing into the ground.

She vibrated through the chimney, set up the tree, decorated it with lights and ornaments, plugged it in (!), placed the toys and gifts he had bought for mother and child around the tree, stuffed candy canes and chocolates into the stockings hanging on the fireplace, turned up the heat, left a note by the thermometor, and stuffed a small turkey in the refrigerator.

All within five seconds.

The boy came wandering, sleepy-eyed, out of his bedroom.

"Oh my - ! Mom! Mom!"

Celerity smiled as she whisked by the boy and went to the fireplace.

"And laying a finger aside his nose, and giving a nod - "

Well, she vibrated backwards through the chimney, giving a light coating of ash to her father's Santa suit.

The lights flicked on, and the mother... stared.

She took staggered steps into the room she had just left not ten minutes earlier.

How - ?

Then she saw the note, tucked in behind the thermostat.

Trembling, she unfolded the note.

"Keep warm! Don't worry - it's paid through June.

"Santa."

Tears rolled from her eyes as she glanced over at her son, who had paused with his new truck.

"Mom? Santa left you some things, too... "

She staggered a bit as she made her way to the door.

She stood in the doorway, and looked out into the darkness. She didn't see anyone.

Not that she had expected to.

"Th-thank you," she said to the night sky.

"Thank you!"

Ron Wood groaned as he turned over on his couch.

There it was again - knocking.

Someone was knocking on his door.

He stumbled to the door, wondering if the Post Office delivered on Christmas or if it was those darn Dougherty kids singing Christmas carols.

He opened the door and blinked.

There was a gal in a superhero costume standing in his front yard.

Actually, there was a superhero, period, standing in his front yard.

"Um... hi," Celerity smiled sheepishly.

"'Hi', yourself," Wood said, a tad confused.

"I, uh, didn't get to say 'thank you' properly - for saving my life yesterday," Celerity said, shuffling her feet.

"Oh. You're welcome.

"Thank you for saving my hide."

Celerity nodded in acknowledgement, and smiled gently.

For a moment neither one of them said anything.

"Oh, heck, you've gotta be freezing in that outfit," Ron said suddenly. "Why don't you come inside?"

"Tights are insulated, and I've been on low vibration for a while now," she smiled. "I, uh, brought you a fruitcake."

"Fruitcake?!" Ron grinned as he stood aside to let her in.

"You like fruitcake?"

"Uh, to be honest, I don't know."

"You'll like this one," she said, tapping the box. "I put lots of rum in it."

"Oh-ho."

He grinned.

"You made it?"

She nodded. "Mom always said you should bring something when going to someone's house... and there really weren't any stores open on Christmas Eve."

"Aside from truck stops," he commented.

She laughed lightly. "Yes, truck stops."

She shivered slightly and hoped he didn't notice.

"Here," he said, putting the blanket from the couch around her shoulders. "It has to be about five degrees out there."

"Thanks..." she said, sitting on the couch where he had been sleeping not five minutes earlier. "Uh, look, I don't want to take your only blanket or anything... "

He ducked under the blanket, too. "S'okay, we can share.

"Uh, I mean - "

Celerity smiled and skrunched down.

Ron put his hand around her shoulder - but the minute he touched the spandex on her arm he froze - and lifted his hand away fast!

Holy crap! What was he thinking?!

Celerity gently reached up and moved his hand back to her shoulder.

She looked up at him and gave a little smile, then placed her head on his shoulder.

Ron gradually relaxed enough to let his head lean on top of hers.

"Aht."

Celerity held up a finger... and Ron straightened immediately.

The heroine pulled her goggles down so that they hung loose around her neck, revealing deep blue-green eyes. She smiled and snuggled up close to Ron, and sighed happily.

Ron... relaxed somewhat, and started drifting off.

Something about this seemed... good.

He whispered, "Merry Christmas, Celerity."

"You, too, Ron."

And with that they both drifted off to sleep.