Disclaimer: I do not own the Santa Clause trilogy or any of its characters, places, events, or any other relative ideas. The only things I can claim are Crys and Rachelle.

A/N: As always, those reviews are looking good. Sorry that it's been a week since my last update; I've been working on a short House story but it's all wrapped up now. So, let's get back into this story and get going!

Chapter 7: Delivery

Bernard stood before Santa's desk with a grim look on his face. Curtis—as usual—was standing close by. Mother Nature, Father Time, and Cupid were also in the room, their meeting interrupted by Bernard.

"I'm telling you, I think she's more trouble than she's worth," the elf argued, referring to Rachelle. He didn't give out any specific details about his suspicions and he wouldn't until he had solid proof of her troublemaking. Curtis rolled his eyes as if this kind of thing were typical. Santa leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk.

"Bernard, you're doing a good job with her so far. I think you can handle it," he commented. Bernard sighed and rubbed his temples. He swore he could feel a headache coming on. Cupid swooped down until he was at eye-level with the others.

"I don't know. Elf Boy seems pretty stressed to me. Shame we'll have to tell everyone he can't handle a girl," the winged figure mocked with amusement. Bernard glared at the legendary figure.

"Look, I think there might be something going on with Crys's wedding," Bernard blurted out without really thinking about it. Santa's face grew serious and deep lines appeared in his forehead.

"What about Crys's wedding?" Silence filled the room. Bernard's thoughts turned to Rachelle and the scene they had had in the kitchen. It was so unlike him, but it had been…fun. He supposed she wasn't that bad, just trouble. He decided not to bring it up, especially with Cupid flying overhead. He could only imagine what comments the legendary figure would make upon hearing that.

"Never mind. I still think you should get someone else to handle it," he insisted. Please, get someone else to do it…before I get in over my head with her. Curtis's eyes went wide with mock surprise.

"You mean…you don't want to be known as Supreme Elf?" Bernard narrowed his eyes at Curtis, who clearly thought Bernard wasn't capable of finishing this assignment.

"Fine…I'll try again. But there's only so much I can take from her," he warned before leaving the room, refusing to wait until he was officially dismissed.

"Yeah, he won't last long," Cupid predicted, earning a stern look from Mother Nature.

…..

On the other side of the building, Rachelle was getting ready for sleep, tidying up her new bed until she approved of it. She tossed most of the pillows to the ground and turned down the bed before slipping into it. The bed was so warm and it made her feel cozy, unlike her bed back at her apartment. That bed barely let her sleep for even two hours, it was so uncomfortable. She rested her head against a pillow and almost instantly fell asleep.

She dreamed that she was dancing with someone in a magnificent ballroom. To her surprise, she was wearing Crys's icy blue wedding dress. She twirled around in it, loving the way it felt on her. The person she was dancing with was shrouded in shadows so that she couldn't see who it was. Maybe it was Jack…in which case this dream would be a very good one.

Rachelle reached a hand towards the person's face and then the shadows melted away. It wasn't who she'd thought it would be; it was Bernard and he was guiding her along the floor, staring at her with such intensity it made her breath stop. Rachelle sat straight up in her bed, trying to make sense of her dream. Whatever, I'm not going to think about it right now…

She still wished she could wear Crys's dress though; it was the beautiful kind that was fitted, so you had to be careful about keeping your weight steady. That suddenly put an idea in Rachelle's head and she smiled wickedly as she closed her eyes once more.

...

Crys was sitting in the middle of her floor, studying different styles and patterns for the layout of her wedding, when Rachelle barged in without knocking. She was smiling brightly as she plopped herself down beside her friend. In her hands was a gift-wrapped box.

"Delivery for you," she said cheerfully as she handed the box to Crys. The girl stared at it for a second and then proceeded to tear the wrapping to pieces. She had always been a sucker for gifts, especially around Christmas. Her rich, red hair was pinned up and her eyes were wide with surprise; in truth, she reminded Rachelle a little of Lucy.

"Who is it from?" Crys scrounged for a tag, but didn't find any. Rachelle leaned back until she was lying on the floor. She stretched out her legs until they covered the style templates that Crys had been looking at.

"It's from Jack, of course," she informed her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Crys gazed at her in a mix of wonder and confusion.

"Really? He's never done something like this before. I wonder how he knew I liked Swiss chocolate," Crys mumbled as she opened the box and bit into a small piece of chocolate. Rachelle gritted her teeth as she realized that mistake could cost her, but hid it behind simple lack of care.

"Probably because he knows you so well. Here, I want to try a piece," she demanded, pulling the box away selfishly. I should get a piece; they were firstly mine after all. She had kept these chocolates stuffed in the bottom of her bag and she had bought them only a day before she came here. It was usually impossible to take Swiss chocolate from Rachelle, but for this she figured it was worth the sacrifice.

"Do you mind? I have to decide which style I like," Crys interrupted Rachelle's thoughts as she forced Rachelle's long legs off the templates. She scowled and sat up straight. She offered Crys another piece of chocolate, but the girl shook her head.

"Oh, come on. The stress of this wedding is killing you. Live a little," she told her, throwing the box into Crys's hands. Rachelle got up and headed for the door. She turned around once with her mouth open to say something. "By the way, there's no need to thank Jack for those chocolates. I already did that for you."

….

Over the next week or so, Rachelle used every advantage she saw to "deliver" a special bag of sweets to Crys. It was always something different—sometimes, it would be chocolates, or other times it would be small cookies or cakes—and Rachelle always insisted they were from Jack. Crys would nod her head and go back to what she was doing, eating through half the bag before twenty minutes was up.

Likewise, Rachelle sought out Jack often to talk to him or see what he was doing. T was especially fun when he was acting just a little rebellious; it made her remember the good times she had had with Crys. Now, she stood watching him as he stole a cup of hot chocolate from a boy who had set it down on a table. She was laughing to herself and didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching from behind her.

"What are you up to?" Bernard's voice made her jump, causing her to knock over a table covered with finished toys. Everyone in the room, including Jack, turned to look at what she was doing. Her face turned red and anger flared up inside her.

"Are you crazy? You should know better than to sneak up on people like that," she exclaimed in a shrill voice. Bernard crossed his arms, staring at her sternly as if it were she who had done something wrong.

"And you should know better than to cause trouble around here," he remarked. Rachelle froze in her spot, fear creeping up around her. Oh…my…God. He knows about the treats I've been giving Crys to sabotage her, doesn't he? She decided that if it must come to a head, she would deny it.

"I don't know what you're talking about or what you think you can accuse me of," she shot back at him. Bernard didn't even flinch; he shook his head in pity at her.

"I'm talking about the mess in the kitchen. The cake, remember? I don't want to see anything like that again," he scolded her in a low voice. Rachelle wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. He didn't anything; she was safe.

"I thought you said it was fun," she pointed out. He shifted in position, looking uncomfortable.

"I lied," he said. Rachelle gazed at him smugly, recognizing the truth.

"Liar," she accused him before striding off towards the stairs. Bernard watched her go and felt an uneasy pressure in his chest. It was just too close for comfort, wasn't it?

I know this might have been a short chapter, but I have had writer's block for this story. I hate it when I have writer's block…it sucks when all I can do is stare at the empty screen. Anyway, I hoped you still liked it and I'll try to write up the next chapter as soon as possible!