Seasons Greeting!

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"Home for the holidays, Tony?"

Stopping his swing, Tony looked up to see a sandy hair colored boy walking toward him. "For a few weeks."

"And you didn't call? I thought we were friends."

"Wha'?" They had been friends—still were, Tony thought. They just didn't go to the same private school anymore. Tony had gone away to school last year, and with that came the fact he could only see his old friends during holiday break. He started his swing again. "We're friends, Reed. I jus' got home last night."

Reed shrugged. "You've been home at least nineteen hours, I would assume. If you slept for twelve hours—which is unlikely for you— that's still seven hours that you could have told me you were home. I would have called you."

Tony stopped the swing and this time climbed off. There was no arguing with Reed. He liked to be "Mr. Smarty Pants". Tony's mother told him to "ignore Reed when he's like that, sweetie". Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "What're you doing for Christmas?"

"Probably opening gifts and going to a family feast. You?"

"I think my family's comin' to my house this year," he replied with a toothy grin. "Wha'd you ask Santa for?"

Reed snorted. "Santa? Tony, we're eight. That fairy tale of Santa is for those under the age of seven. You should know better."

He paused. While he questioned the existence of Santa at the school he went to, everyone believed in jolly old Saint Nick—not to mention elves, fairies and dragons. In fact, he knew a fairy. Telling Reed that would only result in another "Reed's Soapbox moments" as his father termed it. But, letting Reed win the argument didn't sound like fun. So, even though his parents warned him against it, Tony crossed his arms and replied, "Maybe…but some things we think are fairy tales are real. Like Santa."

This time Reed laughed. "Don't be so foolish, Tony. Smart boys like us don't believe in a fat, old man in red riding a sleigh. Besides, it's physically impossible for him to travel the world in one night."

Santa didn't just travel the world, but the universe. All in one night. Or so Tony had been told—he didn't exactly have proof. Regardless, how Tony would explain that… Well, he just couldn't.

The thing was not everyone got to go to the school he did. Not everyone was that lucky. However, they also didn't offer an answer as to how Santa could get across the entire universe in one night. Tony was left stumped.

"Face it," Reed continued when Tony didn't reply. "It's just not logical. Reindeer can't pull a sleigh that fast and time doesn't stop. It can't be rewound. You should know this. You like to invent things. You like science. You're just like me.

"Besides, everyone who's anyone knows that parents wrap the gifts, fill the stockings and eat the cookies and milk we put out to drink. When did you grow so naïve?"

The wind blew across the playground at the moment and caused Tony to pull his jacket tighter around him. Was he just like Reed? Had he become...naïve?

"Tony!"

He turned to see his mother waving to him. Shaking his head, he looked at Reed. "I gotta go. I'll call you after Christmas."

Sprinting towards his mother, he wondered again if Santa was real. He knew what his school taught, but perhaps they were liars. Maybe that girl wasn't even a fairy. Maybe that's why would no one explain the magic of Santa?

When he caught up to his mom, she took him by the hand. "It's getting late and cold, my little hero. We can't stay out too long on Christmas Eve. It'll cause Santa to be delayed. And besides, we have gifts to wrap, cookies to finish, and a snowstorm to avoid."

He tugged his hand out of his mother's. "Mom, I'm eight. You don't need to hold my hand anymore."

She looked at him for several moments in silence, her brow raised, before she crossed her arms and nodded. "You're right. I forgot that you're getting so old now."

She frowned at him and he felt his insides twist. That was a look she only gave him when she was disappointed—and he did his best to never receive it. Maybe he shouldn't have told her he was old enough to walk on his own. With a soft sigh, he crossed his arms and walked in silence home.

By the time they had reached the house, Tony had decided Santa was a fraud. Everything about the man was impossible. With slumped shoulders, Tony figured he'd reached what he'd heard called a "millstone" that every person had to go through. He wished millstones didn't have to be so bad.

Outside the house, his mother and he shook off their boots before entering.

"Greetings," Jarvis said with a smile. "Did you have a wonderful stroll?"

Tony watched his mother hand Jarvis her coat. "We did. We even had time for Tony to swing for a while before he informed me that he's too old to hold my hand. I suppose goodnight kisses are next."

"Surely that can't be, ma'am." Jarvis cast a glance to Tony. "Perhaps someone just had a hard day."

"I'm not sure. I think he's too old for Christmas even. Hopefully Santa doesn't think so," she replied. "Has the dough risen? I'm hoping to start the pizza now."

"It has, ma'am," the butler replied. "It's all ready for you in the kitchen. Hopefully you can finish in time. There's supposed to be a horrible snowstorm coming in tonight."

"However will Santa make it through?" she questioned before walking to the kitchen.

Tony shrugged off his coat and handed it to Jarvis.

"I'm sure Rudolph will be earning his keep tonight," the butler said with a smile.

He looked up at the man. "We all know Santa doesn' exist, Jarvis."

"Young master!" he gasped. "I've never heard such blasphemy come from your mouth. Why, before you left I heard all about how excited you were that Santa would arrive. What has changed your mind?"

Tony followed Jarvis to the closet where the man hung the coats. "I saw Reed in the park. He said Santa isn' real. There's no way a man could fly across the world in one night. And is's not just one world, Jarvis. Is's all acrossed the universe."

Jarvis turned to him and knelt to one knee. "Young master, I'm not certain why you believe that boy, but you know for a fact that many things are possible that seem ridiculous on Earth—first hand, I might add. Young Reed Richards knows only one narrow minded way of thinking. You are raised with a much wider view."

Tony didn't respond. Instead, he watched as Jarvis rose to his feet and walked toward the kitchen. He trudged behind. Inside, he felt even more confused. Once he reached the kitchen, he climbed onto a stool and watched his mother work.

Jarvis moved to assist Tony's mother in cooking.

Glancing to the clock, Tony wondered how long it would be before his classmate arrived. Well, she wasn't technically his classmate, she was three years younger. In any case, once she arrived he'd be able to think about things other than the fact that Santa wasn't real. He wondered what room of the house they'd explore next.

The last time they had gone into his father's workshop. They'd found a drill and used it on a motorcycle with a flat tire that sat in the corner. Apparently that wasn't the way to fix the tire since the bike was now scratched up, and they'd both lost dessert privileges for a week—not to mention, Tony had also been banned from the workshop unless his father invited him.

As if knowing what he was thinking, his mother looked at him. "I'm afraid Skylar won't be joining us this year."

Tony sat up straight as his brow furrowed. Skylar normally spent Christmas with them. Where else would she stay? And if she wasn't there, he'd be alone in the big house while his family sat around and played games he couldn't participate in. Without a word, he slid off the stool and trudged to his room. Once there, he pulled a dictionary from the shelf.

Walking to his desk, he set the large book on it and sat in his chair. Tony opened it to the word Santa Claus and read: n. A benevolent figure of legend, associated with Saint Nicholas, supposed to bring gifts to children on Christmas Eve, or in some European countries on Saint Nicholas' Day. Often shortened to Santa. Also called Father Christmas.

Blinking, he felt his shoulders sag. With the proof that Santa was just a story, he felt as if a ton of bricks had settled on him. If the man was a fake, was everything he was taught in school a lie? Had that girl lied to him about being a fairy?

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