A/N: Santa learns about the history of the elves, Bernard, and the Christmas tradition. Meanwhile, an entity Bernard thought was gone has resurfaced and is throwing monkey wrenches in the works. Big dangerous ones.
The Santa Clause (1994) is classic. Bernard was graced with an accent, a charming slouch, and The Attitude, all three of which were lost in the second movie, which is why the only components of this story that are taken from the second movie are some characters: Carol/Mrs Claus and Lucy are here, and Chet, and Charlie is as he would be in 2002 (when this takes place). If you're a visual person, I'm going with the 1994-style elf-clothing, workshop, and Bernard.
Finalmente, I'll be switching 3rd person perspective between Scott and Bernard. I might add someone else in there later on.
I'm painfully aware that I don't own The Santa Claus. I console myself with knowing that I do own a shiny green bicycle helmet.
_oOo_
Keeping the Sun
Ch. 1 – Unfortunate Events
_oOo_
Bernard was sure he was going insane. He felt like this every December and was never prepared for it. He took a moment to lean against the railings and stare down at the reindeers' stalls, quickly noticing that Blitzen appeared to be putting up a grand fuss over the possibility of letting Chet take his place for practice this season.
"Aw, kullbers," he muttered.
"What's wrong, Bernard?" asked a familiar voice at his side.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Just your regular pre-Christmas crunchtime. Plus a few minor complications." Judy smiled sympathetically at the head elf and Bernard had to take a moment to admire her levelheadedness. He'd been doing this same job for hundreds of years, and each December still found him strung up like a catgut racket. Of course, Judy didn't know that the entire stash of felt had mysteriously disappeared, or that the ice dome had leaked all over the south side of Elfsburg. Distressingly, though, he had to put the issues of the workshop first. And there were many workshop issues.
"When does Santa get back?" Judy asked.
"Two days." Santa was on his bi-weekly vacation, spending a few days with Charlie and the rest of his relatives. Escaping the hectic North Pole for a while and relaxing. Bernard envied him. He also loathed the man for dumping his leaderly workload onto his head-elf's shoulders while he was gone. Bernard fervently wished it would be many, many years before a new Santa had to be initiated. Each time that happened, Bernard had to basically be Santa as well as head-elf while the new Santa took their time questioning their sanity and wondering if it had all been a dream.
Another elf approached at eye-level, and Bernard knew who it was before the English accent hit his ears.
"Bernard, there you are."
"Quentin, what's up?"
"There's been a slight problem with how input is lining up with output in the electronics department."
"What do you mean, you think someone is smuggling circuit boards to sell on eBay?"
"No, I think somebody put down the wrong input. I need the file from last Tuesday."
"Last Tuesday. When do you need it by?"
"Asap."
"Right. I'll have it sent down."
"Thank you."
Bernard started for the hall of records, cursing all the stupid red tape and paperwork that modern Christmas involved. Cursing the fact that he had to deal with the majority of it, meaning he was almost the only one who knew his way around the hall of records.
He slipped through the wooden door and was greeted with blessed silence. Left, left, right – sadly, he had the whole place mapped out in his head – and he was in the electronics isle, running his fingers down the spines of folders.
"1950… 1967, 1999… 2002. Jan, feb, blah blah blah… December… Here." He pulled out the file and started to make his way out of the maze, squinting at the tiny numbers scrawled across the parchment, already a bit smudged.
Something pulled, stopping his footsteps. It was yanking at his guts most unpleasantly, and he felt his dourest irritated scowl start to creep across his face as he set the folder down on the floor. Sighing, Bernard felt himself dissolve, and heard the rush of space past the particles of his ears. Nothing would get done at this rate, but then again, he could hardly do anything about it.
He was now in Scott's house, which he'd expected. He'd have to find out why, get it taken care of, and leave quickly. Hopefully it wasn't anything too urgent, he couldn't afford to be away from the North Pole for very long.
Lucy was wailing, the smoke alarm was going off. Typical.
_oOo_
Scott tried to hush Lucy, who'd just returned home from school sobbing inconsolably. So far he'd learned that her classmates had teased her about believing in Santa Claus, and her throat was sore. Obviously her throat was sore because she'd been crying so much, but he wasn't about to tell her that, mainly because he couldn't hear himself think over the sound of the smoke alarm. He was sure he was the only person in the history of anything to be able to burn Minute Rice.
"Come on, honey, let's go stir the rice," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, and hauled her into his arms. He flipped on all the fans he could reach on the way into the kitchen, but just as he was about to enter the smoky kitchen, the doorbell rang.
"Oh come on," he said, depositing Lucy into an armchair. He lunged for the door and threw it open, surprised to see a complete stranger standing before him. It was a young woman of rather unremarkable features, and his Santa abilities told him her name was Ilex, but that was it. She didn't look like someone selling vacuum cleaners, so he paused to see what she wanted.
"Hey," she started, brushing a straw-like tuft of hair behind her ear. "I'm your new neighbor, I moved in last week. I haven't seen you in here before but my husband heard the alarm and sent me over to see if everything's ok? My name's Ilex Bornson."
"Eyelex? Is that right? Nice to meet you, I'm Scott Calvin." He shook her offered hand quickly, before backing into the hallway. "Everything's fine here, just some burning rice and a screaming kid…"
The alarm stopped abruptly, and the house was graced with near-quiet, as Lucy was still weeping semi-loudly in the dining room.
"Oh…" he said, staring over his shoulder in wonder. He turned back to Ilex. "But thanks for checking. I'm not home very often, I work, uh, overseas a lot. But next time I've got a chance how about I invite you and your husband over for dinner, we can get to know each other and all that… I promise I won't burn anything." In the background, Lucy abruptly stopped crying, and Scott wondered if some sort of 'quiet fog' was creeping through the house. It was a bit of a scary thought. He opened his mouth to bid Ilex a goodnight when he heard a voice behind him say,
"S-"
He knew it was Bernard before turning around. Even Bernard's 's's seemed to have an accent. The elf coughed.
"Scott," finished Bernard, carefully. Scott turned around to see Bernard approaching, Lucy in his arms.
"Um, uh, Ilex, this is Bernard, he's my, he's my…" Scott looked to Bernard for help, but all he received was a blank stare. "He's Lucy's babysitter. He's… babysitting right now…" Now Lucy was giving Scott a blank stare as well. He gave them both a 'go with it' face. Ilex beamed cluelessly at them. She fidgeted and the charm bracelets on her right wrist jangled cheerily.
"Bernard? Nice to meet you, my name's Ilex." Ilex held out her hand for Bernard to shake, apparently unaware that it took two of his hands to hold a small child.
"Charmed," he replied, and coughed again. "Scott, if you've got everything under control, I really, really have… lots of homework to get done. Finals coming up next week, you know," he said through clenched teeth.
"Oh, finals? That's terrible!" gushed Ilex. "How nice of you to take time out of your busy school life to babysit for little Lucy!"
Bernard nodded meaningfully at Scott. Lucy was apparently finding all of this quite amusing, and had even cracked a small smile. Scott was picking up the message but wanted to point out that he hadn't summoned Bernard, Bernard had come down here out of his own free will. But that discussion would have to wait until Ilex was gone.
"What grade are you in, Bernard?" she asked, causing Scott to share an inward sigh with his head elf.
"Eleventh," Bernard replied automatically. "Will you excuse me, I think the rice is burning again. Nice to meet you, Ilex." Bernard hastily made his escape with Lucy, and Scott once again prepared to usher Ilex out of his doorway.
"You know, Scott, I've got two kids as well, they need a babysitter. If Bernard is ever looking for extra income, point him in my direction, alright?"
"Definitely, definitely. You have a good night, now!"
"Ok, goodnight, Mr. Calvin. Goodnight, Bernard!"
He shut the door and shook his head to clear it of Ilex's ditziness before making his way to the kitchen. Lucy was sitting on the table, watching as Bernard dumped water into the rice pot.
"Woa, woa, what are you doing to the rice?" Scott demanded.
"You didn't add enough water the first time. Babysitter? I can 'definitely' go babysit her kids?" He rounded on Scott, coughed into his hand, then took a defensive hands-on-hips stance.
"Well I wasn't hearing any other suggestions," Scott said.
"I just came from the North Pole, my mind is like oatmeal! It's chaos up there! Everything's missing, the ceiling is leaking-"
"This is why I go on vacations," said Scott, stepping forward to stir the rice.
"Santa, you don't stir rice, you let it sit." Scott stubbornly kept stirring the rice, paranoid that it would set off the smoke detector again. Behind him, Bernard stood silent for a moment before slumping into the kitchen chair. His hands massaged his temples and he let out a whoosh of breath. Lucy reached over and plucked the hat from his head, placing it on her own. It fell over her eyes.
"Charlie coming home soon?" asked Bernard.
"Nah, he's staying with Laura and Neil tonight. He was over last night and he'll be over tomorrow again." He was very thankful Lucy at least had been able to visit him; lonely vacations can hardly be considered vacations. He wished Carol could have come down with him, but she was happily busy in the kitchens up at the North Pole.
"Uncle Scott, Bernard said that you would put coal in all the stockings of the kids who teased me." Scott decided that the rice was stirred up appropriately and took a seat opposite the elf.
"That's right, Lucy. Just one lump each, though. Coal is a valuable natural resource."
"What's a valuable natural resource?"
"Oh, stuff like wood, water, rocks…"
Bernard snorted. Scott smiled. Lucy fiddled with the pin on the hat.
"Things really that bad up at the North Pole, Bernard?" Scott asked. "You'd rather hang out in a smoky kitchen than be up there?"
"Always, Santa."
"You're not serious."
"You're right," he sighed, taking his head out of his hands and glancing over at Lucy. Scott squinted at the head-elf's face and decided that he looked a bit off.
"Are you ok?" he asked, and Bernard took a moment to realize that Scott was talking to him, not Lucy.
"What?"
"You were coughing, now your eyes look kind of red, are you ok?"
"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Just the smoke. Elves aren't good with smoke."
"Ah. Well thanks for saving the rice anyways. I probably would have burned the house down if you hadn't come. Thanks for taking care of Lucy too," he added. Bernard nodded. "How did you know to come, anyways? You always just show up at opportune moments."
"Magic," Bernard replied elusively. Scott gave him an incredulous look. Bernard raised his eyebrows. "I'm not kidding. You involuntarily create a teleport pull whenever you're in a stressful situation."
"But that's like every day."
"Doesn't happen when we're both at the North Pole. You're not supposed to be having stressful situations while you're on vacation, though. Get it straight. Speaking of, I can't afford to be relaxing right now." Bernard pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "Lucy, see you later, alright?" He gave the girl a quick hug, retrieved his hat, limply saluted Santa, and dissipated, leaving a brief shadow of bronze sparks in his wake.
Scott waved absently at a wisp of smoke. Lucy stared at the spot that Bernard had vacated. Scott was still thinking about what Bernard had said, trying to piece something together.
"But why him?" he asked no-one in particular. "He's busy enough already."
"Bernard's the only one that can teleport," Lucy pointed out matter-of-factly. Scott turned to her. He hadn't been expecting an answer.
"What?"
"Have you ever seen another elf teleport? They all have to use ELFS-packs and reindeer to travel."
"You're right, Lucy, of course."
"You're silly, Uncle Scott."
"And you're smelly. Now sit down, time for some burnt offerings."
"What's burnt offerings?"
Scott spent the meal trying to delicately explain what burnt offerings were while he thought about why Bernard was the only one that could teleport. He failed on both accounts; Lucy went to bed thinking that ancient peoples used to leave their burnt KFC out on the doorstep during full moons to keep werewolves at bay, and Scott didn't have the slightest clue as to why most elves couldn't teleport. That night he dreamt of blackened chicken bones disappearing and reappearing throughout his house, which was annoying, because everywhere they appeared and disappeared they left a fine black powder that smelled of smoke.
_oOo_
Bernard appeared back in the hall of records and bent to pick up the folder he'd set down before teleporting. He double-timed it down to the electronics department, dropped off the papers, and was immediately hit with a swarm of elves who wondered where all the felt had gone, why the air pumps were only working at half-power, and exactly how many more keys Santa wanted placed on the mini-marimbas, among other things. The next nine hours or so proceeded exactly as he had expected them to; that is, unpredictably and exponentially more chaotic than the last hour had been. The felt was found, on the plus side, but the ceiling was leaking even more. He needed to find Judy.
He spotted her through the windows of the control room and made his way up half a flight of stairs before entering.
"Judy, there you are."
"We've got a problem, Bernard. The south ceiling is leaking."
"I know, that's what I wanted to talk with you about. We need to patch that up asap. Ideas?" He plopped down in a chair across from her, staring at the dangerous yellow blobs on the thermomap of Elfsburg. Judy pointed to the northern edge of their cave.
"I think the easiest thing to do would be to re-route ten percent of the northern surface border to the south ceiling."
"But wouldn't that put everything off-balance once we sink in the spring?" he asked.
"Yes, it would. This is only temporary. Once we're past Christmas we can spend more time figuring out the best way to fix it. We don't have time to find the perfect solution right now."
"True… good idea. Alright," he said, and started to get up.
"Hold on, Wickie," Judy said in amusement. Bernard grimaced at the nickname. "Why don't you just sit for a moment before you go off and do that?" He couldn't quite resist the suggestion, and the room was dark and relaxing. He sank back down in the chair. Judy smiled.
"I sent for you a while ago about this," she said, "but you were gone. Santa call you?"
"Yeah, he was having some domestic problems. You know, kids and cooking and new neighbors and stuff. I wish we could just turn off that connection during December…" Judy gave him a sympathetic look and walked over to stand behind him. She put her small hands on his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze.
"We'll be fine. Just like every other year." Her words were kind and Bernard tried to take them purely as comfort, but they didn't ring true. First of all, every year was getting more stressful than the last. And things hadn't always been fine. There had been years when things had, in fact, been a complete disaster. Of course, that had been hundreds of years ago, and those events had happened for reasons quite out of his control. Remembering those times made this situation seem almost easy.
Judy leaned over his shoulder and gave him a knowing look.
"You sneak," he said. She'd known her statement would make him put things into perspective.
Something tugged violently at his insides.
"Kullbers…" he grumbled. "It's Santa again." He heard Judy say 'good luck' in a regretful sort of tone before he dissolved. This teleport seemed to take slightly longer than he was used to, but he didn't give it a second thought. He reappeared at Scott's house and found his bearings. Living room, Santa emerging through the hallway in his bathrobe.
_oOo_
Scott stopped short, startled by the sight of the head-elf in his living room. "Bernard?"
"Yeah. What's up? The rice giving you crap again?"
Scott glanced behind himself, as a gesture of confusion. He looked back at Bernard. "Nothing's up. What are you doing here?"
"What, you mean everything's fine?"
"Yeah. I mean I guess so."
"You guess so?"
"Yes, I guess so. Look, if you want to relax at my house for a while, just say so. You deserve a break too sometimes." Bernard was giving him a look of utter confusion.
"You're sure everything's fine?"
"Yes I'm sure. I woke up half an hour ago, took a shower, here I am, there you are. No disasters here. Hey, why don't you stay for a while?" Scott walked into the living room, ushering the elf ahead of him into the kitchen. "I insist. Have a drink or something."
"No, I really can't afford to stay, I've got a leaky ceiling waiting to-"
"Dammit, Bernard, I'm you're boss. Just sit down, will you? I want to ask you a question." Scott pushed Bernard into a chair. He almost felt bad for keeping the elf from his duties, but then again, judging from how he looked, Bernard did need a moment of non-chaos. "Tea?"
"No thanks."
"Suit yourself." Scott took a seat opposite Bernard and leaned back in the chair, which creaked dangerously. Bernard crossed his arms grumpily and gave him an expectant look. "So," Scott started, "Why are you the only elf that can teleport?"
Bernard's expression morphed into one of blank helplessness, then exasperation, then resignation. "Fine time for you to ask that question. It's a long story."
"I've got lots of time."
"Unfortunately, I don't. How about a rain check on that one until after Christmas?"
"Bernard?" asked a voice from the dining room. Bernard craned around to see Lucy approaching, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
"Morning," he said, mustering a smile.
"What are you doing here again? Are you moving in with us?" Her tone was hopeful, and Bernard laughed, shaking his head. She gave him a shy smile before continuing into the kitchen, zombie-walking to stand beside Scott's chair.
"Good morning, sunshine," Scott said.
"Uncle Scott, I feel sick."
Scott may have imagined it, but he thought he heard Bernard stop breathing. Lifting his niece onto his lap, he asked, "What do you mean? What's wrong? Your throat hurt?"
"No. My eyes hurt."
"Do they now…" Scott pressed a hand to her forehead. "Sweetie, you feel like you've got a fever. Do you feel cold?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, you've got a fever. Why don't you go lay down?"
"Ok." Lucy trudged back into the dining room and Scott could hear her footsteps going up the stairs. His eyes turned to Bernard, who looked mildly petrified. Scott tried to reassure him.
"There's been a flu going around lately. Nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about?" Bernard stood, looking incredulous. "I have to go."
"Go? No, sit back down, just take a moment. Maybe you were pulled here to look after Lucy or something."
"Definitely not the case…" he muttered, pacing. "Influenza, she's been contagious for two days already... Dette er SLIK ikke tiden for meg til å få syk. Å herre..."
"Bernard, you're speaking in Norwegian. What's the big deal?" Scott knew from past experience that Bernard speaking in Norwegian meant something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. The elf slumped back down in his chair and clenched his hat in his fists.
"I was holding Lucy yesterday. I've probably got the virus now too."
"Well… you don't know that. You feel fine, right?"
"Right, for now. You know how crappy elves' immune systems are? Ever wonder why we live at the North Pole and not down here with all you humans? The North Pole is sanitary. If I'm infected, and I probably am, and I go back up there now, everyone else is going to get infected, and a North Pole full of infected elves… Kull sperrer inne, kan jeg ikke tro dette er begivenhet," he finished grumpily. "I can't go back now."