Chapter Two: New Santa

'I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but I always end up where I need to be.' – Douglas Adams

Allie's P.O.V.

It's been three centuries since that Christmas. Now I was 884 years old and Sasha had just turned 1894 years old. We weren't old. Elf life spans and human ones are different; physically, a hundred years to an elf would only be a year to a human. We were half elf, so we had their life-span. We pretended I was seven and Sasha was eighteen; like we have been for the past century now.

It was Christmas Eve here and just like every year since we've known Mr. Calvin; we were invited to spend Christmas with him and his son Charlie. We saw Mr. Calvin often. He was divorced and Sasha babysat Charlie often, and since we known them for along time, we were allowed to call them by their first names, but I prefer calling Mr. Calvin, Mr. Calvin.

Sasha's P.O.V.

We walked to Scott's house. When we got there, Charlie and Laura were at the door, and Neil was waiting for Laura in his car. By the looks of it Scott had just pulled into the driveway.

"Hey Charlie!" I said with a small smile playing on my lips, "Hey Laura, it's nice to see you.

"Oh, hello girls; so, is Christmas going to be the four of you this year?" Laura asked us curiously.

"Yes. Mr. Calvin invited us." Allie said looking down, "He doesn't think we should spend Christmas alone."

"That was nice of him." Laura nodded, "I wish he had said something."

"It was last minute." I replied as Scott came over to us. He greeted Laura, and kissed Charlie on the head.

"Hi girls." Scott greeted us.

"Merry Christmas, Scott." I greeted him happily, "Thank you for inviting us."

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Calvin." Allie greeted him.

"I would have picked you both up, you know." Scott told us.

"It's okay, I love to walk, plus we got to see the decorations." I said happily.

"I'm used to it." Allie said nonchalantly.

"Do you want to come in?" Scott asked Laura.

"Neil is waiting in the car." She replied, "So-"

"Why doesn't he come in?" Scott cut her off.

"Cause, dad, he says you'll just end up saying something snotty." Charlie answered as he took the presents from his mom.

"Not necessarily." Scott told him, "Could be rude or sarcastic, whatever it takes." Scott waved to Neil, who waved back.

"See, I've have to go." Laura commented.

"C'mon, it's Christmas Eve." Scott insisted, "Just for a minute."

Laura silently agreed. Scott let us all inside.

Charlie set down the presents by the tree. We took off our coats and hung then up, and then set down the gifts we had brought for him and Scott by the tree.

"There aren't that many presents over there." Charlie commented to his dad as he left the living room.

"That's because Santa isn't here yet." Scott told him.

"Neil doesn't believe in Santa." Charlie replied.

"Well, Neil's head comes to a point." Scott jabbed as Neil honked his horn.

"Neil's smart, he's a doctor." Charlie commented.

"He's not a doctor, he's a psychiatrist." Scott corrected him as Neil continued to lay on the horn, and then told him to take off his coat. He went over to talk to Laura, not too happy that Neil had told him there was no Santa Claus. Laura and Neil wanted Charlie to have a firm grasp on reality, while Scott didn't believe he should have his imagination taken away.

I looked down at Charlie, he didn't need to hear their argument.

"Charlie-" I started to say, but I was too late. He had decided he had heard enough.

"Why do you guys always have to fight?" He questioned them.

"I swear we're not fighting." Scott promised him, "It's your mom's singing." He told him, Laura went along with it silently annoyed at his comment, "It sounds a lot like fighting, doesn't it?" He added, "Cats even." He then changed the subject, "The trouble is, Neil and your mom, they don't believe in Santa cause they were real naughty, which is why they'll probably get lumps of coal in their stockings."

"I don't know." Charlie said as he walked over to them. "Seems kind of babyish to believe in that kind of stuff."

It seemed Neil's words had gotten to him. That was a shame, he was a little young to stop believing.

"What are you talking about?" Scott asked him, "I believe in Santa Claus, I'm not a baby." He looked to me and Allie, "Do you believe in Santa Claus?"

"I do." I nodded, "I always have."

"I can't honestly say that I don't." Allie responded.

"Well-" Laura started to speak up.

"Maybe it's about time you left." Scott offered, "We don't want to keep Dr. Pinhead waiting."

Scott went into the kitchen and Laura went over to Charlie. Allie and I left the two alone, Allie went upstairs to put her bag in Charlie's room and I went into the kitchen.

"Need any help with dinner?" I offered as I came into the kitchen.

"I won't turn it down." He responded as we heard Laura and Charlie talk.

"Okay." I nodded, "If you want I could look through this cookbook, while you're flipping through that one." I suggested. He agreed half-heartedly as he continued to listen to Laura and Charlie and we started to flip through the books.

Two hours later, we almost had everything done. Most of it was burnt, but it was salvageable. The turkey was still cooking. I brought Charlie and Allie downstairs. When we came down there was smoke coming from the oven.

"Um, Mr. Calvin, I think the turkey is on fire." Allie commented.

"I told you we left it in too long!" I exclaimed. Scott got the fire extinguisher and put the turkey out.

"That is why you want a high quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen." Scott told us after he finished hosing down the turkey and the oven.

"Those flames were really big, Dad." Charlie told him.

"Yeah, turkey's funny that way." Scott agreed.

"Dad!" Charlie pointed as flames burst from the turkey. Scott hosed down the turkey and oven again.

"It's done!" Scott exclaimed.

"It's inedible." I reminded reluctantly.

Scott nodded, "We'll eat out."

After searching for a half an hour for a place to eat, we eventually stopped at a Denny's.

"Are you with Hatsutashi?" The hostess, Judy, asked us as we entered the restaurant.

"No." Scott answered.

"Dad, burnt the turkey." Charlie told her.

"Oh." She nodded in understanding, and then showed us to a table.

"Burn a turkey?" Scott asked the man with an injured hand at the table across from us with his son. The man smiled reluctantly and waved. We ordered our drinks, which they seemed to be out of almost everything, and then Judy left.