Santa, Baby

Strange people, these mortals,   she thought. But nice! Might as well take the coat; nobody else around here could own it. Need to blend in.

She turned and held out her arms behind her, felt the sleeves being pulled up her arms. When Liam let go of the garment, she shrugged it all the way up onto her shoulders, turned to look up at him.

"Thank you," she said.

"Ain't he a sweetie?" giggled Sandy.

On impulse, Trixellian reached up, took the boy's head in her hands and pulled it down to her level before planting a chaste kiss on one cheek.

Some things are, after all, universal.

When she released him, she saw that his face was red. How very odd.

The three stopped just inside the row of glass doors. Outside, it was snowing lightly. Pushing through the doors, they headed together towards the mall main gateway.

"I'd offer you a lift," Liam said, "but my car is mainly in my imagination."

The two giggled.

"I guess it's the Metro Limo for us," Sandy pouted. "But I hope it comes soon. It's freezing out here."

Trixellian's eyebrows went up a bit. It was in truth not that cold, barely below freezing. And the snowflakes slowly drifting down were huge, almost artistic. It made her feel more homesick than banished.

Suddenly she knew where she lived now. Short of a sentence of permanent exile, not even Omerlon would dare to leave one of Santa's servants homeless. She reached out, took the other two by the hands.

"Come on," she said. "I live right over there."

"Erm, you mean the hotel?" Sandy asked. "I thought it was..."

"...really expensive," Liam finished.

"I, um, got a deal," Trixellian. After a moment, she added, "Want to come up and take a look?"

It's not like I've seem it, either,   she reflected.

"Oh, yeah!" Sandy exclaimed.

The two women looked up at Liam. He smiled.

"Love to!"

The three turned to head across the parking lot towards the looming bulk of the hotel. The snow was really coming down now and it was hard to see more than a couple of yards. Sandy shivered.

"How can you stand this, Trixie?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her chest. "I'm freezing!"

"Oh, just used to it, I guess."

"I guess you can get used to anything," the blonde girl said.

Trixellian pondered that.

"I hope so."

As they made their way through lines of snow-covered cars, a shape suddenly stepped away from the side of one of them. Footsteps had packed down in the snow by the driver's door and the snow had been brushed away around the door handle. The man walked briskly away into the snow flurry, not looking back.

"Hey!" Liam said suddenly. "He was trying to break into that car!"

"Are you sure?" Sandy asked.

"Well, if he had a key, he'd have just opened the door. Look at how he's trampled the snow down by the door. He'd been trying to get in for a while."

"What do think we should do?" Sandy asked, looking around nervously.

The three paused.

Trixellian raised one hand, snapped her fingers. The other two, startled by the sound, turned to look at her. She just smiled.

"Let's you and I stick close to Liam, Sandy!" she said, "I'm pretty sure he'll protect us."

The tall boy looked around nervously, but stood a little prouder. Sandy smiled, took his arm and pulled in closer.

"I think you're right, Trixie," she said softly. "You'll keep us safe, won't you, Liam?"

Shoulders back and a girl clinging to each arm, Liam stepped off towards the glow of the hotel lights ahead.

Behind them, off to one side, barely perceptible through the falling snow, came the sounds of agitated cursing as a would-be thief began frantically pulling off his coat and shirt. For some reason, they seemed to be full of snow...

+

Trixellian was baffled by the door to her room. The handle turned, but the door remained locked.

Looking at the plaque on the door, her curiosity was aroused. What's a 'regal'?   she asked herself. And why does it need a suit?

"Where's your key?" Sandy asked.

"Key? Oh, yeah." Trixellian fumbled through her purse. It contained several plastic cards and some other items she didn't recognize. It wasn't like she'd packed it herself.

"There!" Sandy said, pointing. "Isn't that your key-card?"

"Oh, yeah. I suppose it is," Trixellian said softly. Now what?   she thought to herself. Uncertain, she pulled it out and handed it to the taller woman. "Here, you do it. I always get it wrong."

The other two looked at her, somewhat puzzled, but Sandy took the card and inserted it into the slot in the lock. A small green light lit up and there was a slight whirring sound from the lock. The door opened easily under Sandy's hand.

"Wow!" Liam breathed. "Is this ever nice!" His comment was echoed by Sandy.

Trixellian was not herself very impressed. Looking around, it was clear that Omerlon had chosen lodgings for her several levels below that considered barely adequate for even the most junior elf at the North Pole. Yes, the ceiling was high, but it hardly towered.  And the carpet was barely ankle-deep.

"Look at this place!" Sandy exclaimed. "This must cost a mint, Trixie!"

"Oh, that," the elf said, thinking quickly. "I didn't actually book it. It was my, erm, uncle. Yes, my uncle. He knew I was going to be here and he's been in the, um, hospitality business for... well, just about forever."

A word popped into her head. She wasn't sure from where or what it meant, but it had the right feel to it.

"It's a comp, I guess."

"You got comped into this?"  Liam said, looking around. "At Christmas?"

"That's awesome!" Sandy said, brushing snow from her coat.

"Yeah, I suppose," Trixellian said, her anger at her banishment unabated. "It's OK. Anyway, come on in. I actually haven't spent all that much time here." Like none, right?   "Let's explore."

Decorated in dark browns, umbers and golds, the suite turned out to have multiple bedrooms. There were three of those, each with a king-size bed and each with its own bathroom. On one bed, a shabby suitcase lay, no doubt packed at Omerlon's direction. A large central space featured sofas, comfortable chairs, a desk and a major television.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked... well, right now they overlooked a blizzard, but their size promised impressive vistas. A small but functional kitchenette and dining table was matched by what proved to be a fully-stocked wet bar.

Liam and Sandy were amazed at the size and variety of the bar stock. Trixellian seethed inwardly at the absence of good  liquor.

Where'd they get this reindeer pee?   she thought to herself. What in the name of the South Pole is 'Glenlivet'? And 'Dom Perignon'... I mean, this stuff is so...

Trixellian's heart sank as she began to fully appreciate the depths of Omerlon's petty vindictiveness. Yes, Santa's elves worked hard, but there were, after all, standards to be upheld, right?

She looked up from her examination of the bar to see the others looking in wonder at a tiled hot tub in the centre of the room, one easily big enough for six people. To one side was an open-concept gas fireplace. As she watched, Liam looked around, stepped to one wall and flicked a switch. There was a small woof!  as the fireplace turned on. In a moment, a cheery fire was sending its flickering light across the room.

"This place is just amazing, Trixie!" Liam said.

"I wish I had an uncle like that," agreed Sandy.

"Well, how about a drink?" Trixellian offered, "Before you go. Get you warmed up." Despite her disappointment, the other two seemed impressed by the selection.

Liam looked at his watch.

"I'd like to," he said, "but my bus leaves in like eight minutes."

Trixellian looked at Sandy, raised one eyebrow in question.

"Sure," the blonde girl replied, "but just one."

The two said goodbye to Liam at the door.

"See you tomorrow?" Trixellian asked. Friends were important, she knew, and these two were the only candidates in sight.

"Sure," the boy replied. "I look forward to it." He stepped out the open door.

On impulse, the elf seized one hand, pulled him back. She leaned up on her tip-toes, kissed him lightly on one cheek.

"Thanks, Liam."

To her amazement, the boy blushed. Pulling his hand out of hers, he turned and almost loped down the hallway. Smiling, she closed the door. Turning, she saw Sandy staring wide-eyed at her, her mouth open in apparent surprise.

"Wow!" the girl said. "You move fast, girl!"

"Um, I'm sorry," Trixellian said. Had she broken another human rule? It was all so complicated!   "Were you...? I mean, did you...?"

"Oh, no!" Sandy grinned. "But he's so shy! I've been trying to get him to notice me for a week. I was starting to wonder if he was gay or something."

She shrugged. "I've always been a sucker for really tall boys. I just wish he wasn't so bashful."

Trixellian giggled. Shyness was not a normal elvish emotion, but it wasn't unknown to her.

And she knew some cures for it.

"C'mon," she smiled. "Let's have a drink and talk about Liam and what we can do to cure that shyness."

+

The next few days were, to Trixellian, sheer madness. The workshops at the North Pole were busier than the mall and more crowded, but at least they were organized. Everybody there knew their place and everybody was working with the same aim. Here, she realized with a shock, despite the Christmas spirit, everybody was to some degree, a competitor.   Every child had its own objective and those overlapped with their parents' goals only broadly and only in certain areas. Worse, many shoppers without children seemed to view everyone else as adversaries.  This wasn't the near-universal seasonal love she had come to expect.

In between directing harried mothers to washrooms, arranging payment for photographs with 'Santa' and soothing children terrified by His presence, Trixellian tried to change that, to make the day making the day an experience  people would remember -- and, some of them, perhaps learn from.

A solidly-built nine-year-old boy discovered that tormenting his little sister made his bum extremely itchy and that scratching it in public made people laugh at him. That made him angry, but even raising his fist towards his sister made the itch much worse.

A well-dressed mother pulling her wide-eyed child past the display with the words, "It's too much money," soon found herself depositing one of the small stack of $50 bills in her purse into a Salvation Army kettle before pressing three more on an obviously-poor woman with two thinly-dressed children in tow. The look on the befurred woman's face suggested she couldn't understand what her eyes were watching her hands do.

A pickpocket seriously sprained his fingers by running into a column wrapped in garlands and flashing lights. He was later to tell his partner that the column had 'jumped out at him'.

Watching him being led away with his hand in a large cup of icy soda from the food court, Trixellian found that the mall was more becoming more... ah! yes, more Christmassy  . Justice, too, was present.

It was her first experience of justice from the right side of the bench. That too was a curious experience.

And she got to try her first hot dog! It was an experience far from any dining she had ever experienced -- rough, hearty, with none of the sophistication her food had always had. But it was good; another experience to file away, however difficult it would be to explain to her fellow elves on her return.

It was the mix of apprehension and joy in on the faces of the children as their turn with 'Santa' that Trixellian found most endearing. Thousands of them, day after day, in dreadful hopes of seeing Santa.

If they only knew... Trixellian thought to herself.

She herself had had a reminder of that hidden reality.

Emerging into the hall from the Ladies one afternoon, she almost ran into a familiar form leaning against the wall.

Omerlon.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. Her banishment was bad enough.

"Checking up," he smirked. "Making sure you hadn't run away."

Omerlon was good at smirking.

"Run to where?" Trixellian demanded.

"Anywhere but here," Omerlon said flatly, shrugging himself off the wall. "Just so you know, I'll be here from time to time, keeping my eye on you."

He looked down the hall towards the bustle of Christmas shoppers. He grimaced in patrician distaste.

With that, he raised his hand. Snapping his fingers, he vanished, leaving a seething Trixellian behind.

.

Omerlon's officious snooping and her natural cynicism notwithstanding, several weeks of experiencing happy hope on small faces did bring a subtle gentleness to the elf. Instead of merely accepting the Christmas spirit as a given, as normal as the sun rising each morning, she was beginning to feel it within her own heart. She found she was less bitter now, more inclined to take her exile as a chance to investigate.

Something, perhaps, even enjoyable. Certainly, the regular after-work visits by Sandy and, less frequently, Liam were pleasant. Trixellian found girl-time was much the same in the mortal world, too. Even in exile, it was nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody to listen, somebody to laugh with. And if Sandy the was one who made you laugh, Trixellian was the one who could plan.

+

"I wonder if that thief is around," Sandy wondered as they passed a line of footprints in the ever-present snow. The prints seemed to go from one snow-covered car to the next.

"It's a bad winter," Liam said. "The mall's hired security guards and they've even put up more security cameras, but in this kind of weather..." He waved his hands up into the falling snowflakes, "...it's just about pointless."

While a prankster, Trixellian had her own ideas on morality - and they didn't include stealing Christmas presents. Allowing the other two to pass her, she paused a moment, looked at the tracks and snapped her fingers quietly. Smiling, she lengthened her pace to catch up to her friends.

Distantly, through the curtain of falling snow, there came the sounds of horrified profanity as a would-be thief tried to hold his trousers together. For some reason, the seams seemed to be disintegrating...

It was a cold night and it would be a long way home for him, too.

Going to bed that evening, Trixellian was pleased for another reason. Before dropping her and Sandy off, the tall boy had kissed them both good night. It was a first.

+

Two days later, the Village being closed for lunch, Trixellian was annoyed to see a familiar figure in the mall crowds -- two, in fact.

Omerlon. With his arm around Vinditta.

Well, actually not quite around  Vinditta. 'Half-around' would have been more accurate, for his hand was gently massaging Vinditta's shapely bottom. The latter's right hand was around Omerlon's waist and her head rested on his shoulder.

Slumming, are we, Omerlon? Taking your trollop on an exciting safari into the dangerous mortal world?

Strolling around in public in formal North Pole robes, even in a mall known for the occasional cosplay event, was definitely causing them to be noticed. Didn't those two even care?  Trixellian wondered.

Vinditta giggled, licked Omerlon's ear with the tip of her tongue. That  got the attention of a couple of mothers, who rapidly dragged their broods away.

Trixellian gritted her teeth. Exile was bad enough. Omerlon constantly checking up on her was worse. Inviting that blonde-only-by-bottled-magic strumpet along to witness her in jingle bells was the ultimate indignity. But this behaviour was unforgiveable for an elf of Omerlon's status. Get a room, you two! 

Then it struck her. An idea. Trixellian had the most wonderful idea. Green eyes shining, she had the most wonderfully Grinchy idea.

The Grinch was, after all, required study at the North Pole.

Borrowing Liam's camera and quietly following the pair through the crowds, Trixellian was able take photo after photo without being noticed.

Some of them printed up rather well, she thought to herself later. Thinking about them carefully rolled up in the sleeve of her coat allowed her to keep smiling when Omerlon and his doxie wandered by after lunch.

Vinditta had the gall to wave.

+

The logistics of the thing perplexed her. She had the evidence, but how...?

Then it hit her.

Despite the bureaucracy rapidly entrenching itself at the North Pole, Trixellian knew that every letter -- every  letter -- addressed to 'Santa Claus, North Pole' was personally read by the Saint himself. Maybe it was just habit? Maybe it took the Saint back to his pre-expansion days, when it was just him, three elves and a spritely Mrs. Claus in a rented shop on the wrong side of the polar bear tracks? Whatever -- letters addressed to Santa went unopened to his office for his personal attention.

Unless, following a recent trend, it had been written by a little girl and addressed to 'Ms. S. Claus'. Those went directly to Madame.

Trixellian's smile lit the bedroom.

+

The days seemed to get longer the closer they came to Christmas. More and more children passed through the Village, more and more photos were taken.

Closing came at long last on the 23rd. As usual, Eric vanished almost instantly, leaving the younger trio to clean up.

"Hey," Trixellian asked Liam as he locked the door to the cabin, "You're staying for a drink tonight, right?"

"Erm, I'd like to, but it's that bus timing."

"Isn't there a later one?"

"I don't think so."

It was still snowing outside. That much felt like home to her.

Trudging through the snow, arm-in-arm with the other two, Trixellian had an idea.

"Guys," she said, "It's a three-bedroom suite. Why don't you just spend the night? Is there anything you need? I'm sure the hotel can provide toothbrushes. Is there anybody who's going to be worried?"

"My roommate will be fine with it," Sandy said, right on cue.

Trixellian could see the wheels going around in the boy's head. "I'm still living with my parents," he admitted.

Sandy moved in, gave him a big hug.

"That's so sweet!" she said. Seeing the look on Liam's face, she hurriedly added, "And really practical, too! Save money now, worry less later about student loans, right?"

Liam nodded, somewhat relieved.

"So, tell them the truth," Trixellian suggested, stepping out again towards the distant lights of the hotel. "Tell them that it's snowing like crazy, the roads are really slippery and rather than take a couple of hours on the bus, you're going to stay with friends overnight. Give them my hotel room number if you want."

The tall boy was silent for a couple of steps.

"OK," he announced. "Thank you. I accept. It is a long bus ride." His stride lengthened a bit as they plodded through the rapidly-accumulating snow.

+

"Sit down, Liam. Relax. I won't let Sandy pick on you. I promise."

Trixellian smiled at the tall boy. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he did sit down on one of the sofas.

At one end.

The far end.

Sandy moved to sit beside him and tried to rest her head on his shoulder. He was simply too tall, so she merely snuggled up against him and rested her head on his arm.

The boy's blush deepened.

Sandy's arm tightened around his waist in a hug.

"C'mon, Liam. You're not afraid of two little girls, are you?"

His eyes dropped to meet hers.

"Damn right I am," he said.

Trixellian's carillon laugh rang across the room; the eyes of the other two snapped over to her.