Captain Happily Married: A Christmas Special

This, he knew, would be his most trying mission yet. Not saving the world from Professor Irreconcilable Differences and the Kaboominator she’d stolen from the secret vault. Not the Nigh-Apocalypse of ‘22. Not the attack of the Suff, not even that time the Malevolent Med-Student had gotten hold of a padamantium bomb and held the entire city hostage. No, this was different. This required venturing into one of the most unholy and uncivilized gathering places still known to man: the shopping mall. Even worse, he’d done so on one of the worst possible days of the year: the day before Christmas. Yes, he’d left his shopping to do until Christmas Eve.

There could be only one reason why he’d taken this most drastic of measures: Captain Happily Married had to buy the perfect Christmas present for Super Soccer Mom.

The problem was, he had no idea what. Neither of them had made a list: they’d been too busy in the runup to the holiday season on the usual patrol fighting bad guys; not to mention, they had to get presents for the kids. Whenever he’d hinted at the subject, Super Soccer Mom had usually waved it off with a distracted, “Oh, I’ll think about it, let you know,” or “Just surprise me, okay, and look out for that phaser beam, oh good you did.” Even his Extra-Matrimonial Senses weren’t of any help. Even worse, he couldn’t rely on Seymour to buy something for him; their cybernetically enhanced soccer ball was linked to Super Soccer Mom’s brain. If it knew, she knew.

“So much for the element of surprise,” the Captain grumbled as he surveyed the sea of shoppers milling about the floor of the mall like so many wildebeests in the gorge during the stampede scene in The Lion King. “Right, so I’ve got to go cash then. What do I get?”

He cast his eyes across the line of stores. What would she, as a superhero mom of seven children with their own varying powers, want? Another soccer ball? A cape, perhaps? “Cape” was the generic shorthand for superheroes in Edison City these days, but Super Soccer Mom had never particularly used or asked for one. Did she want one? If she wanted a cape, what color? Should the edge be scalloped or straight-lined? Should it be a long cape or more of a shorter style?

There were some stores that catered to the superheroic client base; should he ask one of them? Captain Happily Married hesitated. This was a fashion question; perhaps he should loop Meg Atomic in on this. Then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go the cape route at all.

Perhaps she’d want something else, like a book. There was a very nice bookstore down near the food court; she’d mentioned reading something recently that she’d liked. He tried to recall the name. Had that been the Amish romance one, or the vampire one? Or was it both? He couldn’t remember if anyone had written an Amish vampire story. Should he check? What if she already had it? He didn’t want to give her a book she already had.

“Having trouble?” a kindly voice enquired. Captain Happily Married turned. There next to him stood a man in a familiar red suit and a white beard, looking at him over bright golden glasses.

“Ah, you must be the Santa Claus employed by this establishment to assist the children!” Captain Happily Married said. He’d forgotten to turn down his superhero voice, as usual.

“You could say that,” the man in the Santa suit said. “I’m on break just now, as it happens, but if you need help-”

“Well, it’s just, I don’t know if you’ve heard of Super Soccer Mom,” the Captain said, “But I’m trying to find her a really good Christmas gift, something really nifty! We’re married, you see,” he added, wanting to make sure the situation was clear.

“But you’re not sure what to get,” the man in the Santa suit surmised. “Well, I can see how that would be a problem. I may have a solution for you, though. What do you think every mother, particularly one with superpowers and a lot of children, would want for Christmas?”

For once, Captain Happily Married’s powers failed him. “Um,” he said.

“Time alone with her family,” the man in the Santa suit said. “Think about it. What was your last Christmas like?”

The Captain winced. “Well, there was that attack from the Malevolent Med-Student, and before that the thing with the zombie penguins. And before that-”

“I get the picture,” the man in the Santa suit said. “Now suppose, just once, for one day, a day which, naturally, happens to be Christmas, she could have one day alone together with you and the children, where none of you had to worry about supervillains or zombies or aliens or any of the sort of thing you fellows usually deal with. Suppose it was all covered, and you could spend that one day peacefully celebrating Christmas together like a normal family. Don’t you think she’d like that?”

“I think she would,” Captain Happily Married said quietly, staring out at the crowds without really seeing them. “We don’t get those sort of days often, you know.”

“No, I imagine not,” the man said, giving the Captain a sympathetic pat on the arm. “It takes something special for that. A Christmas day would do it. And also… well, to keep everything buttoned down while you’re celebrating, I suppose Santa would need to borrow your powers. Just for the day, you understand,” he added hastily.

“Of course,” the Captain agreed. “But how do I know-”

The man in the Santa suit had disappeared.

The next day, nine people in a little suburban house celebrated the holiday together, with a great deal of laughing and singing, presents being opened up, and Tasha exclaiming joyfully over the duckdown cape that had appeared wrapped under the tree. “How did you know?” she exclaimed, her eyes shined.

“I didn’t!” Justin said, trying to remember when he’d got that particular gift yesterday. He didn’t think he’d stopped by the apparel store. “Oh, anyone want more cookies?” He had to go to the kitchen to get them; normally he would’ve summoned Seymour or used his Extra-Matrimonial Senses to make them with super-speed, but today Seymour was playing just like a soccer ball, and they were eating cookies out of a round metal tin just like everyone else.

Then Margaret, the oldest, wandered over to the piano to try a bit of music she’d been working on, and together they all joined in, safe and sound. Tasha herself joined in the singing, and she hadn’t done that since the Nigh-Apocalypse of ‘22. For once, for this one day, she was relieved. For once, they were so blessedly normal. They were safe.

Justin glanced out at the sky. He didn’t know if he'd heard reindeer bells in the distance, but he knew he hadn’t heard sirens or explosions. For that, he was grateful. As they all were.

And so, they all had a very happy Christmas. At least that year.

Until next time,

Michael