Christmas Untitled
Dec. 9th, 2018 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bungakertasAuthor’s Note: This story doesn’t actually have a prompt to it. You’ll just have to read it and find out what it’s about. It is Christmas-y, but that’s all you get. :)
Warnings for child abuse mentions. Mostly general, all non-graphic, but they are in there.
*~*~*
Christmas Eve was a big night. For Santa Claus, it was the big night. Yes, sure, he’d been doing it for a few centuries now, absolutely, but it was still the big night.
This one was actually almost finished. He had magic helping him get around the world in less than twelve hours, but even with magic, and even being immortal, and even with all his little tricks he was just tired. He was very much looking forward to getting home, getting a hug from his wife, and letting her run things in the North Pole for a while while he got some sleep.
He was getting to the end of his rounds. He generally ended them… Well, he generally ended them in the Pacific Ocean, but the last continent he tended to visit was North America. It was more heavily populated than South America, so it took longer, and it was the farthest away from the International Date Line, which was one invention the North Pole had gleefully adopted the moment it was produced. It had made Christmas schedules a thousand times easier.
He was somewhere in Appalachia right now, just finished with planning out how he was going to bring some Christmas to this totally un-decorated room in a foster home. He knew this was a house where all the children in it desperately longed for a little Christmas, and the adults didn’t much care one way or the other. They didn’t have any Hanukkah decorations anywhere. Nor those of any other holiday of any kind.
In fact, now that he thought on it, this house was downright gloomy.
Well, he could fix that. He was ready to snap his fingers and do just that when he heard a voice from the kitchen.
“Look, I’m not giving you a prime piece like Jake for less than five grand,” the voice said.
Santa froze. He’d heard people say things like that before and it never meant anything good.
“I don’t care if it’s Christmas. You either cough up the five thousand or no deal,” the voice snapped.
Santa knew that voice. It belonged to a girl, woman now, named—in one of the universe’s most ironic twists—Wendy Darling. He’d never known anyone less like that character, though. This woman had gotten moved to the naughty list at three years old and she’d never come off of it. And now, by the sound of it, she’d gone as bad as a person could go.
“I don’t offer layaway plans, and I don’t hold merchandise. Either you have the money or Jake goes to somebody who does,” Darling said. “I’ve got at least three other interested parties, and they’re all going to be here tomorrow morning. Maybe you’d better start looking at other kids.”
There was a sharp noise from the kitchen and Santa stepped silently back into a deep shadow in the corner of the room. Darling was much too old, much too awful, much too unbelieving to see him. Probably. But there was no sense in taking chances. Sometimes, when he wasn’t focusing, people saw him just fine. Heaven knows he wasn’t very focused after what he’d just heard.
Jake had never written him. A lot of children didn’t. But he didn’t mind. A boy like Jake had a lot of things to focus on besides Santa. He was only a child and he already felt responsible for the children around him. Given what he’d just heard, Santa was beginning to understand why.
Darling wandered out of the kitchen, face hard, stumbling a bit. She smelled drunk.
He should’ve watched her more carefully. But the world was very big now, and even with magic, he couldn’t watch everything. He could watch a lot. But not everything. No matter how many songs or poems claimed he could.
He was more than pleased to see Darling stumble into another room and collapse onto her sofa. As soon as he was certain she wasn’t watching, he laid his finger to the side of his nose, nodded, and blinked back out to his sleigh.
He had parked in the forest behind the house, just slightly uphill. The house didn’t have a chimney, and he realized now that it was only barely heated.
The reindeer all stamped confusedly when he didn’t instantly leap into the driver’s seat. They began to swing their heads when he unhitched Dasher instead. He patted Donner on the head and then addressed them all.
“Stay.”
Although this wasn’t something that often came up in the many stories people told about him, his reindeer were big. Bigger than it was possible for reindeer to be without magic. Definitely big enough to ride. And, as his name suggested, Dasher was the fastest in his team.
Santa took a moment to check the map on his phone. It probably would look odd to most people, Santa Claus with a phone, but he’d always loved the newest technology and this had been his gift last year from his wife. Right now he was checking to see what police jurisdiction he was in and once he worked that out, he pulled himself onto Dasher’s back and turned his mount towards the town’s station.
*~*~*
Lauren Padgett was the officer on duty overnight on Christmas Eve. Right now, it was 2:04AM and she was wearing a Santa hat, drinking hot chocolate from her beloved travel mug, reading a book, and thankful that it had been a slow Christmas so far. Last year they’d had three joyriders, and they didn’t actually talk about what happened three Christmases ago, but it had ended with giving notifications to five different families.
Okay, so it wasn’t the most fun way to spend Christmas, but she hadn’t become a cop for the fun.
Her head snapped up when the door opened.
It took several seconds for Sarah’s voice to say “Erm…Merry Christmas. May I help you?”
Lauren set her book down. Not only had someone come in at two in the morning, on Christmas, but Sarah Heeley, the station’s unflappable admin on the night shift, had not been expecting their visitor and she sounded pretty flapped.
When Lauren entered the front room, she could see what had Sarah so shocked. A man, who looked to be in his early fifties, had entered the station house. He was in good shape for an older man, with a well-kept full, white beard and his hair, as white as his beard, was long and tied in a neat ponytail. In fact, she was tempted to call it a “queue,” considering he’d done it in exactly the manner that had probably been fashionable about two-hundred years ago. He was wearing the most elaborate Santa costume she’d ever seen in her life. No simple red coat and pants with the white trim and black belt for this man. No, he had a long, sleeveless red coat that fell to his ankles, with a collar and bottom edge that looked to be a genuine animal pelt with streaky white and gray colorations. The armholes of his coat had gold embroidery. Underneath he had a rich brown coat with gold buttons, and under it she could see a red shirt with more gold embroidery on the collar. His pants were brown, and he had black boots, worn soft, with gold laces. On his head was also a Santa hat, but he managed to pull it off even though his was a deeper red than most and the tail was so long that it fell down his left shoulder.
Honestly, Lauren felt more than a little ridiculous than she should for wearing a Santa hat in front of this man. A tiny part of her wondered, for just a moment...
Nope. Don’t be silly.
What the man said, though, was thankfully practical.
“I’d like to report a crime.”
Lauren took down the man’s statement, very sparse on the details of just how he’d managed to overhear this phone conversation, but given that it gave her an excuse to go stake out that nightmare of a foster home, she decided to inquire further at a later time.
He gave his name as Nick Klaus, which had both Lauren and Sarah staring very hard at him, but he was able to produce identification to that effect, so they decided to let it go.
Lauren drove out to the house, without her Santa hat, and as soon as the day shift started up Christmas morning, she got two other officers to join her as back-up. Maybe they were watching for nothing. She hoped they were. What “Mr. Klaus” had reported was more than horrifying, so she was just going to hope he was wrong.
He wasn’t wrong. They were able to arrest Wendy Darling—her real name, apparently—and all the kids in the house were brought to the police station to be moved to new foster homes as soon as possible. It quickly became apparent that Darling had a contact in the DHS office, and that one man flipped on two of his colleagues. And just like that, Officer Lauren Padgett had busted an entire child trafficking ring, on Christmas morning, almost by mistake.
Not to mention that someone had seriously upgraded the station’s Christmas decorations, when she returned, hung stockings for each of the kids, and made sure that each of those kids had a gift under the tree.
It was the oddest Christmas shift she’d ever had, that was for sure.
It was mid-afternoon when she got home, given all the paperwork she’d had to file on the arrests and statements. Just for starters.
Her tiny little house was out in the middle of nowhere, empty save for herself and her cat. Knowing she would have to work, she had every intention of spending Christmas alone, drinking hot chocolate, curled up in her pajamas, watching Santa Conquers the Martians.
Frankly, she was looking forward to relaxing.
She tensed as soon as she had the door open. The house was not as she had left it.
Since she’d planned on spending Christmas alone, she hadn’t bothered decorating beyond tossing a wreath onto her door. Which was still there. But now her house was…well, her halls were decked to the ceilings. A beautiful tree, decorated in fabulous color, sat in the corner of her living room, garlands of beautiful greenery were hung around each door frame, glittering with little silver brilliants. Under the tree was a small present, and a lovely stocking that she’d never seen before in her life was hung on the wall.
Lauren checked over her house, but nothing was missing and her cat was just sitting happily on her bed, purring up a storm.
So she went back out to stare at the impossible tree and caught sight of an envelope in the branches. She snatched it and opened it up. Inside was a Christmas card with a note written in it.
Dear Lauren,
I know you gave up believing in me a long time ago, but I wanted you to know I am proud of you. You did a wonderful job today. I know it isn’t always this easy for you, but I’m glad it was today. I’ve also left you some food in your kitchen. I hope you like it.
Merry Christmas and God Bless You,
Santa Claus
PS – I liked your hat.
Lauren stared at the note a long time before heading into the kitchen and finding a tremendous Christmas dinner before her, ham, turkey, stuffing, rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy… Honestly, it was a pure feast. She made herself a plate and managed to wedge the rest of it into her fridge.
Then she took her plate, poured a glass of wine, said grace and then popped in her ridiculous Christmas movie. “Merry Christmas to you, Santa,” she shrugged.
*~*~*
Author’s Note: Yes, it’s cheesy. It’s also Christmas. Merry Christmas to everyone. I hope you had a wonderful holiday.
Warnings for child abuse mentions. Mostly general, all non-graphic, but they are in there.
Christmas Eve was a big night. For Santa Claus, it was the big night. Yes, sure, he’d been doing it for a few centuries now, absolutely, but it was still the big night.
This one was actually almost finished. He had magic helping him get around the world in less than twelve hours, but even with magic, and even being immortal, and even with all his little tricks he was just tired. He was very much looking forward to getting home, getting a hug from his wife, and letting her run things in the North Pole for a while while he got some sleep.
He was getting to the end of his rounds. He generally ended them… Well, he generally ended them in the Pacific Ocean, but the last continent he tended to visit was North America. It was more heavily populated than South America, so it took longer, and it was the farthest away from the International Date Line, which was one invention the North Pole had gleefully adopted the moment it was produced. It had made Christmas schedules a thousand times easier.
He was somewhere in Appalachia right now, just finished with planning out how he was going to bring some Christmas to this totally un-decorated room in a foster home. He knew this was a house where all the children in it desperately longed for a little Christmas, and the adults didn’t much care one way or the other. They didn’t have any Hanukkah decorations anywhere. Nor those of any other holiday of any kind.
In fact, now that he thought on it, this house was downright gloomy.
Well, he could fix that. He was ready to snap his fingers and do just that when he heard a voice from the kitchen.
“Look, I’m not giving you a prime piece like Jake for less than five grand,” the voice said.
Santa froze. He’d heard people say things like that before and it never meant anything good.
“I don’t care if it’s Christmas. You either cough up the five thousand or no deal,” the voice snapped.
Santa knew that voice. It belonged to a girl, woman now, named—in one of the universe’s most ironic twists—Wendy Darling. He’d never known anyone less like that character, though. This woman had gotten moved to the naughty list at three years old and she’d never come off of it. And now, by the sound of it, she’d gone as bad as a person could go.
“I don’t offer layaway plans, and I don’t hold merchandise. Either you have the money or Jake goes to somebody who does,” Darling said. “I’ve got at least three other interested parties, and they’re all going to be here tomorrow morning. Maybe you’d better start looking at other kids.”
There was a sharp noise from the kitchen and Santa stepped silently back into a deep shadow in the corner of the room. Darling was much too old, much too awful, much too unbelieving to see him. Probably. But there was no sense in taking chances. Sometimes, when he wasn’t focusing, people saw him just fine. Heaven knows he wasn’t very focused after what he’d just heard.
Jake had never written him. A lot of children didn’t. But he didn’t mind. A boy like Jake had a lot of things to focus on besides Santa. He was only a child and he already felt responsible for the children around him. Given what he’d just heard, Santa was beginning to understand why.
Darling wandered out of the kitchen, face hard, stumbling a bit. She smelled drunk.
He should’ve watched her more carefully. But the world was very big now, and even with magic, he couldn’t watch everything. He could watch a lot. But not everything. No matter how many songs or poems claimed he could.
He was more than pleased to see Darling stumble into another room and collapse onto her sofa. As soon as he was certain she wasn’t watching, he laid his finger to the side of his nose, nodded, and blinked back out to his sleigh.
He had parked in the forest behind the house, just slightly uphill. The house didn’t have a chimney, and he realized now that it was only barely heated.
The reindeer all stamped confusedly when he didn’t instantly leap into the driver’s seat. They began to swing their heads when he unhitched Dasher instead. He patted Donner on the head and then addressed them all.
“Stay.”
Although this wasn’t something that often came up in the many stories people told about him, his reindeer were big. Bigger than it was possible for reindeer to be without magic. Definitely big enough to ride. And, as his name suggested, Dasher was the fastest in his team.
Santa took a moment to check the map on his phone. It probably would look odd to most people, Santa Claus with a phone, but he’d always loved the newest technology and this had been his gift last year from his wife. Right now he was checking to see what police jurisdiction he was in and once he worked that out, he pulled himself onto Dasher’s back and turned his mount towards the town’s station.
Lauren Padgett was the officer on duty overnight on Christmas Eve. Right now, it was 2:04AM and she was wearing a Santa hat, drinking hot chocolate from her beloved travel mug, reading a book, and thankful that it had been a slow Christmas so far. Last year they’d had three joyriders, and they didn’t actually talk about what happened three Christmases ago, but it had ended with giving notifications to five different families.
Okay, so it wasn’t the most fun way to spend Christmas, but she hadn’t become a cop for the fun.
Her head snapped up when the door opened.
It took several seconds for Sarah’s voice to say “Erm…Merry Christmas. May I help you?”
Lauren set her book down. Not only had someone come in at two in the morning, on Christmas, but Sarah Heeley, the station’s unflappable admin on the night shift, had not been expecting their visitor and she sounded pretty flapped.
When Lauren entered the front room, she could see what had Sarah so shocked. A man, who looked to be in his early fifties, had entered the station house. He was in good shape for an older man, with a well-kept full, white beard and his hair, as white as his beard, was long and tied in a neat ponytail. In fact, she was tempted to call it a “queue,” considering he’d done it in exactly the manner that had probably been fashionable about two-hundred years ago. He was wearing the most elaborate Santa costume she’d ever seen in her life. No simple red coat and pants with the white trim and black belt for this man. No, he had a long, sleeveless red coat that fell to his ankles, with a collar and bottom edge that looked to be a genuine animal pelt with streaky white and gray colorations. The armholes of his coat had gold embroidery. Underneath he had a rich brown coat with gold buttons, and under it she could see a red shirt with more gold embroidery on the collar. His pants were brown, and he had black boots, worn soft, with gold laces. On his head was also a Santa hat, but he managed to pull it off even though his was a deeper red than most and the tail was so long that it fell down his left shoulder.
Honestly, Lauren felt more than a little ridiculous than she should for wearing a Santa hat in front of this man. A tiny part of her wondered, for just a moment...
Nope. Don’t be silly.
What the man said, though, was thankfully practical.
“I’d like to report a crime.”
Lauren took down the man’s statement, very sparse on the details of just how he’d managed to overhear this phone conversation, but given that it gave her an excuse to go stake out that nightmare of a foster home, she decided to inquire further at a later time.
He gave his name as Nick Klaus, which had both Lauren and Sarah staring very hard at him, but he was able to produce identification to that effect, so they decided to let it go.
Lauren drove out to the house, without her Santa hat, and as soon as the day shift started up Christmas morning, she got two other officers to join her as back-up. Maybe they were watching for nothing. She hoped they were. What “Mr. Klaus” had reported was more than horrifying, so she was just going to hope he was wrong.
He wasn’t wrong. They were able to arrest Wendy Darling—her real name, apparently—and all the kids in the house were brought to the police station to be moved to new foster homes as soon as possible. It quickly became apparent that Darling had a contact in the DHS office, and that one man flipped on two of his colleagues. And just like that, Officer Lauren Padgett had busted an entire child trafficking ring, on Christmas morning, almost by mistake.
Not to mention that someone had seriously upgraded the station’s Christmas decorations, when she returned, hung stockings for each of the kids, and made sure that each of those kids had a gift under the tree.
It was the oddest Christmas shift she’d ever had, that was for sure.
It was mid-afternoon when she got home, given all the paperwork she’d had to file on the arrests and statements. Just for starters.
Her tiny little house was out in the middle of nowhere, empty save for herself and her cat. Knowing she would have to work, she had every intention of spending Christmas alone, drinking hot chocolate, curled up in her pajamas, watching Santa Conquers the Martians.
Frankly, she was looking forward to relaxing.
She tensed as soon as she had the door open. The house was not as she had left it.
Since she’d planned on spending Christmas alone, she hadn’t bothered decorating beyond tossing a wreath onto her door. Which was still there. But now her house was…well, her halls were decked to the ceilings. A beautiful tree, decorated in fabulous color, sat in the corner of her living room, garlands of beautiful greenery were hung around each door frame, glittering with little silver brilliants. Under the tree was a small present, and a lovely stocking that she’d never seen before in her life was hung on the wall.
Lauren checked over her house, but nothing was missing and her cat was just sitting happily on her bed, purring up a storm.
So she went back out to stare at the impossible tree and caught sight of an envelope in the branches. She snatched it and opened it up. Inside was a Christmas card with a note written in it.
Dear Lauren,
I know you gave up believing in me a long time ago, but I wanted you to know I am proud of you. You did a wonderful job today. I know it isn’t always this easy for you, but I’m glad it was today. I’ve also left you some food in your kitchen. I hope you like it.
Merry Christmas and God Bless You,
Santa Claus
PS – I liked your hat.
Lauren stared at the note a long time before heading into the kitchen and finding a tremendous Christmas dinner before her, ham, turkey, stuffing, rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy… Honestly, it was a pure feast. She made herself a plate and managed to wedge the rest of it into her fridge.
Then she took her plate, poured a glass of wine, said grace and then popped in her ridiculous Christmas movie. “Merry Christmas to you, Santa,” she shrugged.
Author’s Note: Yes, it’s cheesy. It’s also Christmas. Merry Christmas to everyone. I hope you had a wonderful holiday.
