Standard Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. But you already knew that.

Fifteen-year-old Trixie Belden burst through the door of the BWG clubhouse and collapsed on the nearest Italian leather recliner. "Oh, woe," she complained loudly, "only four more days til Christmas, and I still haven't come up with any gift ideas!"

Honey Wheeler, Trixie's best friend, looked up from the cappuccino machine. Her eyes were sympathetic. "Don't worry, Trix. You're so smart, I'm sure you'll come up with some perfectly perfect ideas soon." She smiled encouragingly at her friend before getting back to the business of beverage making for herself and Brian, Trixie's hot older brother.

Diana Lynch, who was the same age as Trixie and Honey but often excluded from their inner clique on account of her blue-black hair and uncommonly beautiful face, sat in front of the computer pecking away at the keys. She still hadn't figured out how to turn on the monitor, though (and she'd tried everything, even a throaty rendition of 'Jingle Bells, Mr. President'). So, since she had nothing else to do, she stared at Trixie with extra-widened violet eyes and contemplated the sturdy girl's predicament. (It didn't take long.)

"Mummy and I are going shopping tomorrow, Trixie," Di told her. "You're welcome to come along."

"Thanks, Di. That would be really swell, but you know the rule: we can only use money we've earned ourselves to buy presents for each other. I'm afraid I'm down to my last American dollar. And my counterfeit Deutsche marks ran out last week." Trixie shook her head ruefully and blew a stray curl off her forehead. "No, I think it's time for me to get creative."

"Don't worry, Trix - " Honey paused to knock on the sauna door - using the special Bob White knock - and handed Brian's mug of 'ccino to him. As soon as his handsome form had disappeared again she resumed. "You're so creative, I'm sure you'll come up with something perfectly perfect." She sat in the recliner next to Trixie and smiled sweetly at her.

"Thanks, Hon." Trixie grinned at her friend. "But I'm not nearly as creative as you are. I just can't get over those beautiful Speedo's you made for the boys. I wish I had your skill with a needle."

Mart, Trixie's other hot brother, who was only 11 months older than she was, hooted. Trixie, Honey, and Di assumed he was about to make some cutting remark about his sister, but it turned out he was just laughing at something on the pay-per-view movie he and 17-year-old Dan Mangan were watching on the Bob Whites' big screen TV.

Oh, by the way, the Bob Whites, or Bob Whites of the Glen for long, was the name of a semi-secret club to which Trixie, Honey, Di, Brian, Mart, and Dan belonged, along with Honey's adopted brother Jim Frayne. It was semi-secret because, even though everyone who had eyes could see that the teenagers wearing the matching jackets with the name of the club emblazoned on the back were all part of the same gang, and even though said gang was constantly getting its name in the Sleepyside Sun thanks to the mysteries Trixie and Honey were so fond of, not everyone in town knew the times of all their meetings.

Speaking of Jim Frayne - and I was, about fifteen minutes ago - he hadn't been heard from yet because he was relaxing in the hot tub which had been donated to the club by Mr. Lynch, who had had to special order a new one for himself. (Apparently the 150 pounds he had gained over the Thanksgiving holiday had all settled in his butt and thighs, making the built-in seats in his old spa just a little too tight for comfort.) The B.W.G.'s had decided to build an addition to the clubhouse - a loft - to house their new booty (gasp!), and the job had been completed just that afternoon. Dan had chopped the wood for the addition, Mart and Brian had done the hammering and sanding, and Jim had swung from gutters.

"Well, anyway," Trixie declared as she closed her eyes and settled back in her chair, "I'm not going to worry about it tonight. Tonight I just want to savor the first glorious evening of Christmas break."

Suddenly… a knock rang out. Honey glanced at the security monitor before opening the door to their visitor.

"Tom! What a nice surprise. Come in." She ushered Tom Delanoy, the Wheelers' chauffeur, into the foyer. "What brings you here tonight?"

"Oh, I can't stay, Honey." Tom rubbed his chapped hands together briskly and smiled pleasantly. "I was just wondering … well, that is, Celia and I were just wondering … Well, it's like this: the trailer can get awfully chilly up there on that high hill, and I didn't have time to collect any more scrap wood today …" he trailed off.

"And you were wondering if perhaps we had some wood to spare," Honey finished kindly.

Tom nodded hesitantly. "I hate to ask, but the little ones are getting a little frostbit, is all."

"Of course." Honey led him to a seat by the fireplace and Trixie brought a cup of coffee, which she began to sip delicately as she stared at Tom.

"How are the kids?" Trixie asked.

"They're fine, fine - oh, thank you, Dan," he nodded gratefully at the young man who had just handed him a highball. "They don't seem to feel the cold too much, to tell the truth. But then, doc says that's not a real good sign." He took a long swig of his drink. "Now that just about hits the spot!"

"Dan," Honey said, "Tom was wondering if we had some extra firewood. What do you think? Did you chop extra this week?"

Before Dan had a chance to answer, everyone's attention was captured by a shout from the loft.

"I thought I heard Tom's voice!"

A grinning Jim Frayne descended the stairs clad in his new red Speedo's and his B.W.G. jacket. Honey took a moment to admire her handiwork - she had managed to match the two pieces so perfectly, you'd swear they'd come as a set.

"How are you, Tom?" Jim asked as he stepped forward to clasp the older man's hand. His red hair was wet at the ends and his freckled face was flushed from the heat of the tub. "Enjoying this crisp winter air?"

As they chatted Mart and Dan slipped outside. Within minutes they were back to announce that the new Bob White SUV was loaded up with firewood and ready for the trek to The Robin.

"I also packed a few extra quilts from the last UNICEF fund raiser. I thought you might--"

"Whoa. Hold on a second, Dan," Jim interrupted. "The SUV?" He scratched his red head. "I was out riding Jupe along those trails the other day, since I'm the only one who can ride him, and I noticed a few twigs and pebbles that looked pretty sharp. We really can't afford new tires," he laughed, "especially with Christmas coming up. Tom understands, I'm sure."

"Sure do! I've already had to start explaining to the kids that Santa might not be able to find it to The Robin this year," Tom said.

Honey's beautiful hazel eyes brimmed with tears. "Oh, Tom, that's awful!" She bit her lip. "Is there anything we can do?"

Tom shook his head and smiled indulgently. "Oh, no. You kids have already done more than enough for our family. Don't you go worrying yourselves over us. We'll be fine."

"Ready, Tom?" Dan stood at the door with an armload of wood. "I'll walk you up there."

Dan and Tom departed in a timely fashion (if not a timeless one), leaving the rest of the group with nothing to do but shake their heads over Tom and Celia's crappy life and note to themselves that Dan's arms were certainly made for carrying large loads.

Eventually everyone went back to his or her own business, Mart to the X-box, Jim to the Total Gym, Di to her pedicure, Honey to her novel, and Trixie to her lounging. Brian stepped out of the sauna and headed up to the loft to dress.

Suddenly Trixie sprang up from the recliner and shouted, "That's it! It's the perfect gift idea!"

"What is?" Dan stood in the doorway hanging up his coat. Trixie noticed that he was slipping Jim's car keys back into their customary cubby. He gave her a wink when he saw her watching. "What's the perfect idea?" he asked.

"Well," she began slowly, "you know how Mrs. Wheeler has been trying to get rid of her trailer, the Silver Swan, but no one will take it because it's too old and trashy?"

Honey nodded. "That's right. The Salvation Army says it's a disaster waiting to happen, and the Kidney Foundation calls it the worst firetrap it's seen since Towering Inferno." She wrinkled her pretty forehead. "But what's your idea, Trix?"

"Just this: haul it up the hill, attach it to The Robin, and voila, Tom and Celia have a brand-new doublewide!"

"Oh, Trixie, that's perfect!" Honey hugged her best friend and squealed. "They'll be so thrilled!"

Everyone else quickly agreed that the plan was a good one. They had all been worried about what to do for Mrs. Wheeler for Christmas. Mart became so excited by the idea he accidentally punched a hole through the TV screen.

"Sometimes you can go too far, Mart!" Brian said with a scowl. "Now we have to earn a new one all over again."

Honey laid a gentle hand on Brian's arm. "It's alright, Brian," she said softly. "I mended Daddy's favorite suit this morning - that'll bring in plenty for a new TV."

The Grandfather clock in the corner announced to all and sundry that it was nine o'clock.

"Time to hie ourselves homeward, I'm afraid," Jim announced. "We've got to be up early to finish our chores before we can put Trix's plan into action. What do you say we meet at Wimpy's for lunch? I've got Dad's credit card for emergencies. We'll have our meeting over shakes and burgers."

It was decided at the lunchtime meeting the next day that the girls would devise a way to lure Celia and the children out of the trailer on Christmas Eve, while Jim would invite Tom to see a movie at the Cameo. Then while everyone was away Brian and Mart would use Brian's jalopy to haul the Silver Swan to its final resting place, beside The Robin. Dan would use his new chainsaw to cut through the sides of both trailers. The trailers would then be pushed together, and any leaks sealed off with duct tape.

It was a beautiful plan and it worked perfectly. When Tom and Celia and their children returned home on Christmas Eve, they could hardly believe the sight before their eyes. The children laughed with glee and danced around their new home.

"I told you Santa would come!" young Dusty shouted.

"Yes, you did," Tom admitted with tears in his eyes. He smiled down at his pretty young wife (I say 'pretty young' because she wasn't exactly no spring chicken, but she had a few good years yet). "And Santa didn't let us down."

"No he didn't," Celia replied, patting her pregnant belly and smiling up at her husband (I say 'husband' because, although their marriage wasn't exactly sanctioned by the state of New York, nobody really cared.)

Meanwhile the Bob Whites, extremely pleased with themselves, were having their bi-annual Christmas party down at the clubhouse. As Honey soulfully sang of "The Island of Misfit Toys" and Mart and Di made out under the mistletoe, Brian and Jim racked up another game of pool on their newly earned table. Trixie sighed contentedly as she settled back amid foamy waters in Mr. Lynch's old butt groove.

"Happy?" Dan asked.

She smiled at the handsome young man across from her and clinked her mug against his. (What the!?! This is a G-rated story!)

"What's in this 'eggnog surprise' of yours anyway?" she asked before taking a sip. (You see? It was a mug of eggnog!) "It's absolutely delicious!"

Dan smiled sexily. "It's an old family recipe, Trix. You can't really expect me to just tell you what it is in that drink of yours that's making you feel so giddy and uninhibited, now, can you?" He shook his head. "Nope. Same rule as always: you'll have to wrestle me for it."

Trixie set her mug down beside the hot tub. "Well, then," she said, "LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!"

Down below, the rest of the B.W.G.'s heard the commotion and smilingly shook their heads.

"Boy, my special girl sure is boisterous, isn't she?" Jim asked proudly. "I'm glad she's got Dan to play with."

The End

 Holiday GWP