A/N: Just a cute two-parter fic for Christmas (I'm late... it's New Year's Day. Apologies) that Tumblr user when-there-is-a-will and I came up with. :) Hope you like it.

It was Christmas Eve, but everything was normal for Halt.

"You look like an idiot," Halt said, blatantly.

Crowley laughed. "I look great," he replied.

"I can't believe people still do these things." Halt narrowed his eyes at his friend's costume. Crowley didn't look too bad with a beard, even though it was doing its job of making him look decades older than he was. His clothes were padded so he could look bigger, and he was sitting on a throne-ish looking chair, which was what Halt was standing by.

"I like them," Crowley said with a shrug. He adjusted his itchy beard a little, continuing, "I used to see mall Santa's all the time as a kid. Just because the new generation is so different doesn't mean we can't keep some of the old traditions alive. I've always thought there was a certain… charm to Christmas, and to the whole Santa legend."

"Yes, lying to your children is certainly a charming tradition," Halt agreed.

"It's not lying! It's… oh, why am I even arguing with you?" Crowley sighed and set his chin in his palm. One elbow was leaning on the arm rest of his throne, and the other was across his lap. "Even if I presented the best argument in history, you wouldn't budge."

"Thank you," Halt said. "I've been waiting for you to come to terms with that for all too long now."

A young boy bounded up to the stairs below Crowley's throne, and Crowley leaned off his arm and put on a bright, cheery face- which, Halt noticed, didn't look much like acting despite the fact that this was an acting job.

Part of Halt was a little jealous that Crowley could get so genuinely excited over a single day. He could feel the joy of Christmas tunneling its way through his thick skin like a termite, but it never grew into a flame like it did in Crowley. Halt was simply touched by it. Nothing more. But he was content with that.

Looking around, Halt found he couldn't find a single person frowning, and there were a lot of people in that mall. It was Christmas Eve, after all, what could you expect?

Crowley's little break to talk to Halt was short lived. Within moments there were dozens and dozens of kids lined up to visit him.

"I'm not needed here, so I'll go," Halt said. He nodded to the gigantic crowd. "Good luck; try not to bruise your lap."

"Why is it that you sound sarcastic even when you have no reason to?"

A tiny smile, more like a smirk, showed itself at the corners of Halt's lips. Then he left.

Really, Halt just wanted to go home, watch a movie and drink coffee, but Crowley was his ride. He thought about stealing his car, but that was overly harsh to someone who was just having a little fun. He could just get coffee and browse for a few hours until they left.

The line for coffee was way too long. Halt sat (or stood?) through it, because dammit he wanted coffee, but he wasn't happy about it.

Finally he got it and was sitting at a table outside the shop, drinking and checking his email when he felt a presence behind him. The back of his chair was almost touching a fake, small, white picket fence, and there were decorative bushes behind it. Somebody could definitely hide in there.

Of course, Halt didn't do anything to indicate he was feeling the presence. He just focused his eyes on his phone and prepared himself for a "boo!", or for someone to jump out in front of him and try to scare him, only to find that, once again, Halt could not be scared. Maybe someday they would stop trying… then again, that was a little too much to ask of Will and Gilan.

Yes, he knew exactly who was there. He didn't even have to look.

He'd heard from Crowley that they would be shopping today; he had just hoped he didn't have to run into them. In fact, he had planned to do everything in his power to make sure he didn't.

Halt let out a long, internal sigh that could've lasted a century. Would they ever give up?

He was right about everything. Everything, except for how Will and Gilan were going to scare him. He predicted that they would yell "boo", "gotcha" or jump out at him. Instead, he felt four hands grab his shoulders, not as gently as they probably had intended.

Halt's brain involuntarily switched into self-defense mode.

There was no top on his coffee- there were so many people in line that the store ran out. So Halt twisted around, to face the two culprits and splashed the contents of the cup all over their faces.

Their shocked, coffee covered faces were priceless. Everything was awkward until the hotness started to set in.

"HAAAAAAAALT!" Gilan and Will cried. It took a second for the pain to kick in, and then they were desperately wiping their faces, trying to get the liquid off.

Will tripped trying to run out of the bushes too fast, which caused Gilan to also fall behind him and knock them both all the way to the ground. Finally they picked themselves up and faced Halt. By that time most of the coffee was gone... but the memory wasn't.

"Why would you do that?" Will sobbed. "There's a law against cruel and unusual punishment!"

Halt screwed up his face. "The eighth amendment?" he said.

"Yes!"

"Will, we live in England."

Halt sighed, and stared down into his empty cup. It looked like sadness. "It wasn't the best choice, anyway," he muttered. "Now I don't have any coffee…" It'd taken him at least ten minutes to stand in that line. Now he would have to go through that again…

This was the worst tragedy he had experienced in years. A dark cloud floated above him, and he started to feel a strong sense of regret for everything he had ever done.

Meanwhile, somebody was taking advantage of this loss. "Ha!" Gilan exclaimed.

But Halt wasn't weak. "Don't act like you've suddenly won," he growled.

Halt stood up. There was a trashcan nearby, and he tossed his cup in there, but kept walking and didn't come back to the table. Nevertheless, Will and Gilan ran after him.

"Where're you going?" Will asked. "Christmas shopping?"

"Oh, yes!" said Gilan. "Did you buy presents for us?"

"Yes, I did already," Halt replied curtly.

"That's so sweet. I can't wait to see what they are."

"Oh!" said Will. "Did you see Crowley yet?"

Halt stopped walking when they approached a fork in the road, and turned around to face them. It didn't sound like they would be going any time soon. "Yes, as a matter of fact I did," he said.

"He can really pull off that Santa look," said Will. "We were going to get in line, but it was huge and we had to shop, so we decided to go back later."

"You're shopping?" Halt asked. "That's rather last minute." Gilan chuckled. He didn't deny that for a second, and neither did Will. "But I don't see any bags…" Halt lowered his gaze down to their hands.

Realization hit them over the heads. Gilan and Will exchanged equally terrified looks, and they took off running in the direction they had come from. Halt thought he was just about as done with them as he could get, so he decided to bid them farewell.

"I'll see you later, then," he called. A sigh was clear in his voice.

Two hours later, Halt happened to want to visit a store on the other side of the mall, and that store just happened to force him to pass through where Crowley was stationed. He told himself that if he pulled his hood up, he could sneak past him without being seen. Crowley wouldn't hesitate to call him out if he saw him.

Halt was sure it was working perfectly, because he was halfway across the floor and nothing had happened, until he realized that nothing had happened because something was wrong. There was no line he had to stay away from. When he took a risk and glanced over his shoulder, he found that there was no Santa sitting on the throne.

Crowley didn't get off until six o'clock, and it was still two hours away from then. Halt doubted, with his dedication, that he was taking a water break. This wasn't right.

He could remember the back room where Crowley had gotten set up with all his equipment, so he found that door and snuck back in. Getting caught didn't even register as a possibility in his mind.

"Crowley?" he called, looking around the room. There was a table in the middle, surrounded by lockers and cabinets probably storing costumes and the like.

Crowley heard him. He emerged from a small door on Halt's left: the bathroom. He was trying his best not to walk into the wall or fall over himself, like he was so dangerously close to doing. "Oh, heey, Halt," he said. "You're not supposed to be back here." He couldn't be one bit serious while he was saying it.

"You're supposed to be acting Santa out there," he said. "But you're not." Halt stepped closer. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," Crowley said. "Why do you ask?" Despite his best efforts to act normal, his face was devoid of color. Halt put his hand on Crowley's forehead, brushing under his short, red bangs and felt it burning.

"Will you ever stop lying to me?" Halt sighed.

Then a new presence entered the scene from behind Halt. The new man yelled: "H-Hey, you're not supposed to be here! This is for private access only!"

Halt turned around. The man was in a business suit… probably the manager of the mall Santa organization or something. "It wasn't locked," he said.

For a half moment the stranger looked confused. Evidentially it should've been locked, and that was a small error, but he moved on without acknowledging anything. "There was a sign on the door that said "employees only"! It doesn't have to be locked to let people know that they shouldn't be back here." He pointed out the door and ordered, "Now leave."

"Was there a sign?" Halt asked himself. He couldn't recall anything like that.

"Yes!"

"It doesn't matter, Mr. Carter," Crowley said. "He's my friend, and he was just concerned because I wasn't at my post."

"Yeah, they're more important things to worry about, like Crowley's health," said Halt.

Mr. Carter touched his own hand to Crowley to see, and only then did he start to notice the way Crowley was swaying on his feet, or trying to hide the subtle exhaustion in his eyes. He couldn't hide it anymore. The manager nodded, and backed away. "You're sick," he decided.

"No matter. I have to get out there… my shift's not over yet. I can fake it."

"If I can tell, so will they."

Crowley always complained about how stubborn Halt was. It had happened earlier that day, when he tried to convince Halt that dressing up as a mall Santa wasn't stupid, and was only met with the same conclusion that it would be easier to move a three story building than win an argument with Halt. The flipside was, when Crowley got passionate, he could be just as, if not a thousand times more stubborn than Halt. And if Crowley was passionate about anything, it was Christmas.

"With all due respect, sir," Crowley said, "there's still no one to take my place. The next guy won't show up for two more hours, so who will fill in for me if I'm gone?"

Then he got that sparkle in his eye… the sparkle was equivalent to a light bulb going off in his head.

Yes, Crowley was very stubborn when he had strong feelings towards something. But there was one thing that could move him, and that was a good argument that could direct his passion somewhere else he wholeheartedly agreed with. In this case, he really wanted to be a mall Santa, but he would willingly give up that chance to see someone even more entertaining in his place. It accomplished his two goals in life: to do the right thing (cheering up kids), and to be entertained while doing it.

A big grin spread out on his face. "I changed my mind. I do have someone who could fill in for me."

And at that moment, Halt realized with horror what his friend was thinking. He wished he had just walked home.