The arrangements were made rapidly, with the help of tech companies eager to get their hands on what could be game-changing technology.  The Rosses couldn’t afford a lawyer;  the technology parts they’d purchased for this project had already hit their budget hard.  Still, Stamitos, whose gift for language allowed him to understand even legalese, designed the proposed agreements to guarantee that the company acquiring the technology patents, existing and new, would have to actually work to develop it for use, not bury it to protect their own existing products.

Dakota added one stipulation to the foundation; its name should be the Greene-Ross Foundation, also honoring Kellie’s late dad, as well as himself.

Trying to work around Kellie’s school schedule to protect her secret identity, the procedure was set to begin on Dec. 24.  Everyone involved recognized that the work would take hours, and might extend over a period of days, allowing for necessary rest breaks for Elevator Girl.

Early that morning, Kellie got suited up in the specialized gear.  It would protect her from antibodies.  She hugged her mom and Stamitos.  “Merry Christmas, honey,” Gemma said.

“I  just hope my gift gets delivered successfully,” Kellie said.

After Elevator Girl left, Stamitos looked at Gemma.  “You know, I’ve been a statue through all my Christmases before this,” he said.  “This will really be my first Christmas.”

Gemma caressed his cheek.  “I’m glad you get to spend it with me,” she said.

At the hospital, Kellie went through the surface sterilizing procedures so she could be injected into Dakota’s system.  Family would not be allowed in except between rounds of the procedure, and only family then.  Friends wouldn’t be allowed in until after everything was done.  Kellie was relieved.  It meant she didn’t have to explain why she wasn’t there.

As she was getting ready to shrink, her gaze locked with Dakota’s.  They had another one of the moments they’d been having, where each instinctively knew what the other was thinking just by looking at each other.  Dakota smiled.  “Glad you could finally tell me,” he said.

Kellie blushed as the others in the room looked slightly confused.  The heroine recovered quickly.  “Let’s go,” she said.

The experience of being injected was surreal.  The powerful superheroine was helpless as she was sent into the cauldron of the needle’s travel, bounced around in the flow of liquid that seemed like a sea to her.

Kellie thought she was prepared for the experience of being microscopic inside the body of her boyfriend, but she quickly learned she was wrong.  The environment was so alien, and his body’s functions made so much noise on this scale, that she needed a few seconds to adjust and focus in on the sound being communicated through her headset.

“The camera seems to be working fine,” said Dr. Forrest, the first of the doctors on duty to help with the procedures.  “How are you doing, Elevator Girl?”

“OK,” Kellie answered.  “I think I’ve got my bearings.  “Where to, Doc?”

Kellie followed the doctor’s directions to the first area in which they knew the metastasized cancer was.  It was her first opportunity to try the blaster device, and it worked well.

Kellie had designed the blaster with two settings.  One was a variation on the powers she had, allowing her to shrink cells down to such small size they basically ceased to exist.  The other used a time warp to return irreplaceable cells to an earlier state.  The latter setting had to be used sparingly;  Kellie didn’t have the funds to put together the level of technology that would have been needed to make the device truly stable, and each use risked burning it out altogether.

The doctors only let Elevator Girl stay in for two hours at a time, then required her to come out for a break. Kellie would exit via whatever orifice was closest.  That was a truly strange experience in and of itself.  Tear ducts and ears weren’t so bad, and neither were skin pores.  But nostrils were gross, and the rectum was grosser.  The mouth triggered a primal fear of being eaten that Kellie found hard to suppress, and there were other primal feelings she had to deal with when exiting through that uniquely male part of Dakota’s anatomy.

Once Kellie was out, she would take short naps, or grab something to eat or drink, or go relieve herself.  Each break began and ended with a look at Dakota.  Whether he was awake (and thereore smiling at her) or asleep, each of those moments gave her strength to carry on.

It was late that evening when Kellie used one of the breaks to go to a family room and take a nap.  She was so tired the conversation at the nurses’ station as she passed it didn‘t register.

“What did she want with the Greene chart?”  one nurse said.  “She’s not an oncologist, and she’s not part of the team for this procedure.”

“I don’t know what she wanted,” another said.  “She didn’t say.”

“What did you do?” a third asked.

“What could I do?” the second said.  “She’s a doctor.  I let her look at the chart.”

Kellie staggered back and fell asleep.  When she awoke, the conversation registered.  She half-ran back to the nurses station, but the shifts had changed and no one there knew what doctor who wasn’t an oncologist had looked at Dakota’s chart.

Kellie was vaguely troubled by the situation, but then she decided the doctor’s motivation was probably just curiosity.  She went back in for the next round of Dakota’s treatment.

Early Christmas morning, the doctors injected a dye into Dakota’s system to help identify cancerous cells.  It sped the process up.  Kellie began to become more able to identify them by sight, and there were chemical sensors Super Scuba had built into her SCUBA gear that allowed her to identify them even more quickly.  It made things even quicker.  Still, the procedure went on and on.

Finally, the doctors concluded that they had done all they could for now.  The procedure seemed successful, but they wanted to take a day or two before working to finish up.

Kellie exited Dakota and regrew to Elevator Girl’s standard 7 feet tall.

Dakota was awake.  He smiled up at her.  “Hey, Ellie,” he said.

Kellie smiled.  “Hey yourself,” she said.

“Merry Christmas,” Dakota said.

“Merry Christmas,” Kellie said.

“Thank you,” Dakota said.  “Best Christmas gift ever.”

“Glad I can give it,” she replied.

Kellie came back as herself to visit Dakota that evening, her mother and Stamitos in tow.  She leaned down to kiss him, as she’d longed to do for almost two days.

“Sorry I don’t have a present for you,” Kellie said.

Dakota grinned.  “We discussed your present earlier, as I recall,” he whispered.

Mrs. Greene looked over at Stamitos.  “What about you, Mr. Stamitos?  Dakota tells me this is your first Christmas.”

“That’s true, ma’am,” Stamitos said.  “I grew up outside religion, and really hadn’t encountered Christmas.  I know that sounds strange, but it’s the truth.”

“And, actually, it’s Mr. Stone,” Gemma added.  “Stamitos is his first name.”

“Oh.  I apologize,” Mrs. Greene said.

“No need,” said Stamitos, smiling.  His wink to Dakota told the teen the new last name was his Christmas present from Gemma.  Kellie had been in on it, so she already knew.

It was three days after Christmas when Elevator Girl reported for Round 2 of the treatment.  Things had worked as well as they could have hoped for in Round 1.  If Round 2 was successful, Dakota might be able to resume normal treatments;  if it was really successful, he might even be cancer-free.

Kellie braced herself for the cauldron of injection and went through the process once again.  It was time for another marathon session to begin.

The hours passed more quickly this time.  Very soon, it was the next day, and all the cancer cells they could locate had been targeted and either deleted or restored to normal.

An exhausted Kellie emerged through Dakota’s mouth, so tired that even her instinctive fear was suppressed.  “We done?” she asked.

Dr. Forrest, there at the beginning of the process, was there again at the end.  “Yep,” he said.  “We’re done.  You did great, Elevator Girl.”

Dakota was released from the hospital.  He was still weakened, but already feeling better.

The Greenes, the Rosses and Stamitos all were there to bring Dakota home.  He was glad to see all of them, but his parents could see he was interested only in one person.

During the drive home in the Greene’s car, Lakota leaned over to her brother.  “Hope your New Year’s Eve is free, Bro,” she said.  “A certain mutual friend of ours has big plans for you that night.”

Dakota smiled.  “And who would that be?” he asked.

Lakota just smiled and turned toward the window, saying nothing.

On New Year’s Eve, Mr. Greene drove Dakota to a place he didn’t expect:  the riverside.  Dakota looked curiously at his father.

“Your sister tells me this place is special for you and Kellie,” Mr. Greene said, “and, on a night like tonight, I can see why.  Of course, it’s a little nippy this time of year, so we got this set up for you.

Dakota grinned when he saw the small tent set up on the spot overlooking the headquarters cave.  Peeking out from inside was Kellie, looking as beautiful as he had ever seen her look.  She waved and ducked back in.

“We’re only a cell phone call away,” Mr. Greene said, “ and not too much past midnight, please.  And behave yourself with her, please?”

“I will, Dad,” Dakota said.  “I don’t want anything happening to her, you know.”

“I know,” Mr. Greene said, “and I trust you, son.  Have a great night -- but not too great.”

Dakota chuckled.  “I will, Dad.  Thanks.”

Dakota walked around to the open side of the tent, facing the river.  It was a simple arrangement, with a pair of comfortable looking chairs, a small folding table and a space heater.  To one side was a small cooler with bottles of sparkling grape juice.

From Dakota’s perspective, best of all was that Kellie was there, wearing a simple, warm outfit.  The jeans showed off her body well, and the sweater she wore looked soft and comfy -- and good to hug.

Kellie looked up at him invitingly.  “Welcome,” she said.

“All this for a New Year’s date?” Dakota said, smiling.

Kellie shrugged.  “It wasn’t that pricey,” she said.  “And I wanted to do something special for what I believe will be the first of many New Years to come for a very special young man.”

Dakota chuckled.  “Not that the young lady is at all special,” he said jokingly.

Kellie slowly shook her head.  “Not compared to the fellow,” she said.

Then she leaned in and kissed him.  He kissed back, and slipped his arms around her, finding that the sweater was indeed very huggable; he already knew that the girl in it was.

Kellie looked at Dakota.  “It’s a public place, so we can’t go too far,” she said.  “But we have some time to midnight, and I want to honor an old tradition then.”

“What’s that?” Dakota asked.

“If a couple kisses for a minute at midnight, their love will be true,” Kellie said.

“Oh,” said Dakota.  “So you’re suggesting an experiment to prove that theory?”

Kellie nodded.  “And I’m thinking we should practice for awhile ahead of time to make sure we can make the experiment work.”

“Well, they say practice makes perfect,” Dakota said.  “So, let’s practice.”

The two fell into each other’s arms, kissing each other again and again, and enjoying the warmth of their love and the view of the moonlight reflecting on the water of the river.  At midnight, they completed their mission, kissing for well over a minute.

Elsewhere, the woman who had hired, then murdered, the Planner; hired Mammoth; and built various ice-themed monsters and machines looked at the data she’d collected.  She was now sure she had all the data she needed to defeat Elevator Girl once and for all, and capture even greater power than she had now in the process.

Now it was just a question of getting the equipment put together. That would take time, but that was all right.  It was cold now; the equipment was best used when people thought they would be feeling the full bloom of spring.  That was when the cold would sting the most.  This would be the year the cold conquered at last.

Yes, she could wait.  After all, cold is patient, she thought.  And, sooner or later, cold always wins.