10.

No one made talk of Ellington's situation over the next few days. It only made sense that she would need time to process the loss, even with all the support she found herself on the receiving end of.

She found herself spending a lot of time with the Clauses, especially Carol and Buddy. For a seven-year-old, Buddy seemed to grasp the concept of what Ellington had lost extremely well and seemed intent on cheering her up in any way he could. Even just being around him made her feel a bit better, especially when he was so thoughtful and tried to include her in whatever he was playing or doing.

Carol was the biggest surprise, by far. While Elle had already acknowledged the fact that she didn't know as much about Mrs. Claus as she'd liked to, she now found herself becoming quite close to the woman. Without her having to ask at all or feel as though she were putting her out, Carol had been there for her in a comforting, motherly way that honestly was exactly what Elle needed.

So it wasn't as if she could truly complain. She had expected to be somewhat abandoned, left alone once her sisters were gone and the thrill of her visit wore off. Instead, she found that the elves were even more understanding and sympathetic then she could have hoped for. She could only assume that Scott or Bernard had informed them all of what had gone on late that Halloween, because she was veritably flooded with gifts and food and kindness from all corners. It even seemed that some of them were excited, rumors of her "secret" job offer spiraling wildly through Elfsburg. She wondered who it was that had let that slip, but she didn't dwell on it. For all she knew, now that she actually was an elf Bernard might redact that offer entirely.

And she was becoming an elf. She was unable to avoid the fact, becoming more and more aware of it at each of her daily appointments with Hismus. He and the nursing staff in the Elfirmary seemed fascinated by the transformation she was undergoing, taking copious amounts of notes and measurements and records of the entire process. The fact that she felt like an experiment didn't really do much for her already deflated emotional state, but she didn't complain. In fact, she didn't really talk much at all. The entire week she could only remember having spoken a handful of words, all in response to questions she'd been asked.

The most baffling thing of all through the entire week was something she'd done herself: that is, avoiding Bernard. That was right, the tables had turned and now she was avoiding him instead of seeking out his company. Every time she thought about running into him she felt nauseous, embarrassed. Perhaps she was simply suffering a sense of humiliation from him being present for what could clearly be stated as the worst night of her life, but she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she was grateful they were into November—and into the workshop's busiest season—so that he was too wrapped up in work to make much of an effort to see her. At the same time, she also dreaded having to see him at the end of the week. Who knew how that would go down. Ellington by no means wanted to force herself into any position or job. At this point, she just wanted to feel like she belonged somewhere, doing something —since she certainly didn't belong to or with anyone anymore.

But on the sixth day of her respite week a knock came on the door of her room, and she knew from a quick mental sweep exactly who was on the other side. She huddled deeper into her blanket, hiding a good portion of her face and using her telepathy to unlock the door and let the person in. She figured if she sent him away, he'd just teleport into the room if he had a good enough reason to be there. Why make drama when the situation was bad enough?

As it were, she was knee deep in a new tv show in an attempt to distract herself from her heartbreak. She heard Bernard come into the room behind her and she paused the film, looking back from the sofa with a slightly confused expression. He was being awfully quiet, observing her carefully. Granted, the only thing showing was the top of her head and her eyes, so she wasn't exactly extending a warm welcome.

It was the moment their eyes connected that she knew something was different. She felt flustered and nervous and self-conscious, which weren't feelings she'd ever gotten from him. That was one thing she'd learned about Bernard over her time at the Pole: he had a sort of comforting presence, at least for her. Everyone she told that to seemed to think that she was insane, but then, they didn't know of all the times he'd managed to console or comfort or calm her down.

She almost thought he looked a little taken aback before she cast her gaze down at the floor, mumbling her words through her blanket. "Sorry, I wasn't exactly expecting company." Her voice was soft and a bit scratchy from disuse, and sounded like a different person entirely from how flat and unlively it was.

"Don't ah…don't worry about it." There was a pause during which Ellington picked at the lint on her leggings before they both began talking at the same time, then each urged the other to go ahead. Ellington was the one who held out though, waiting for Bernard to go on. "If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. I should have come by sooner, but every time I tried to stop by or find you, you always seemed to be somewhere else…" He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to go on.

"That's my fault. I was kind of trying to make myself scarce, especially after I heard how the real crunch begins this week. I didn't want to be underfoot." Ellington's tone was matter of fact, but her shrug betrayed her feelings were a little hurt.

It was hard to tell, but it almost sounded like Bernard swore under his breath before taking off his beret and running a hand through his hair. "You're not underfoot, for tinsel's sake. You've never been underfoot around here, and especially not after…" He trailed off, seeing Elle's eyebrows raise as she realized where he was going.

"After this week, right." Ellington pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed. "Look, you don't have to come by to apologize and feel bad for me. I know you're sorry about what's happened, it seems like everyone is. I'm not trying to mope or pout or gain anyone's sympathy, I'm just trying to come to terms with this so I can…" She broke off, her voice tightening too much to go one without a deep breath. "So that I can find some way to make myself useful." She stared at the tv for a moment before sighing and looking back at her toes under the blanket. "But I'm assuming you're here for a reason, so go ahead."

"The only reason I'm here is because of you." That wasn't the answer she was expecting, and it made her stomach do a funny little jump, but she ignored it. A few moments later she felt the couch sink down beside her, a careful weight settling down against the armrest. "I don't know where you got this idea that the only reason you're welcome here is because you're useful, because I certainly never meant to put that in your head."

"Well," Elle said with a small sardonic laugh. "You did offer me a job based on my skills—"

"Your main skills being how good you are at working with people and being a genuinely good and uplifting person," He explained, as if surprised at her tone. "Your mental gifts are just an added bonus. I mean, being telepathic alone wouldn't make you fit to be an elf, now would it?" He nudged her gently through her blanket layer, offering a slight smile. He didn't want to appear rudely upbeat, but he did want to raise her spirits if he was able to. After all, she was an elf now, and it wasn't healthy for elves to be sad. It added another risky element to her already risky situation.

"I suppose not," she grudgingly admitted a moment later. "But then, I'm not really a very good person I think. A good person would be happy right now, grateful that they could save the people they cared most about from pain and literal death. But instead, I'm sat here holed up feeling sorry for myself, and—"

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" It was Bernard's turn to laugh in disbelief. Ellington was nearly offended before she realized the level of respect in his gaze. "That just proves my point. Elle, I don't need to remind you that you just sacrificed yourself for your family. I know you already are painfully, acutely aware of that." He watched her eyes move away and reached out to set a hand on her knee. "And while that's a happy thing for them because they get to forget everything that's happened, you don't, and that's a heavy burden to carry. You're not a bad person because you're grieving. It just means you need to heal from what you've lost."

Ellington didn't know why Bernard always seemed to know what to say to her, but as usual it was exactly what she needed to hear. She broke down a little, hiding her face in her hands as she both laughed and cried at the same time. "I just feel like such a baby," she confessed, and in spite of himself Bernard found he was chuckling a little too. He ran a hand up and down her back, a slight sideways smirk on his lips. "I'm always on the verge of tears and I can't seem to hold a conversation and I don't know what my own emotions are doing half the time…" she swiped briskly at her eyes. "And on top of that, there's this whole 'becoming an elf' thing that no one seems to understand. I mean, I wake up in the morning and my own body is different from how it was the night before!"

"It's gonna be okay! It's honestly just a process. Like losing a tooth or, or puberty."

"So I'm having second puberty?" Elle repeated with a watery snort.

"Of a sort. Though there is a lot to be thankful for, I mean, when you signed the contract you were thinking you might end up an infant or something."

"And you didn't?" Bernard gave a little shrug, which only served to make her more suspicious. "What is it that you aren't telling me? You don't seem nearly as intrigued by all of this as Dr. Hismus is."

"Well for starts, I'm not a doctor. So it might be a professional thing," the head elf pointed out with a tilt of his head. "But you aren't the first person who's been through this."

"I'm not? Sure seems like it, from the way people are acting." Elle seemed taken aback for a moment before looking at him curiously. "Who was it, are they still around? Maybe I can talk to them about this, so it doesn't seem so completely overwhelming."

"Well, he's a pretty busy guy," Bernard said with a hesitant yet somehow comical shrug. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that she didn't quite understand. "Most people seem to agree that he's a bit bossy, but he gets paid for it at the end of the day so it can't be that bad of a thing. Shouldn't be a problem for you though, you don't seem to have much trouble getting through to him. Or at least, I've found."

Elle was confused for a moment, but you could have pinpointed the instant it hit her. "Shut up," she said, backhanding his arm a bit more roughly than he'd expected.

"Ouch, take it easy."

"Shut up! You went through this crap show too? And you didn't tell me?"

In spite of himself, Bernard couldn't help but laugh. "Hey, language. And I don't know, it isn't something I've mentioned to a lot of people. I've been here a long time."

"Well I'd expect; I mean didn't you say you were like sixteen hundred years old or something?"

"Or something," Bernard said, a little defensively. He smiled and shook his head. "Sixteen hundred and eighty six, remember?"

"Right." Ellington seemed completely taken aback by this news. "And you were human before?"

"As human as you were."

"So you've been through this process, then."

"I mean, I'm not female. There might be some differences, but yeah. I've been through it."

Ellington nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them towards her chest. "That honestly makes me feel a bit better."

"Why?"

"Well I don't feel so alone, for one," Elle said pointedly, to which Bernard gave an acknowledging tilt of his head. "And reassured that I'll turn out okay."

Bernard smirked to himself. "Some might say I came out of it with a bit of an attitude problem," he said, but Elle just rolled her eyes.

"Please. Something tells me the sass has always been strong with you."

"You're not wrong." Not for the first time, it occurred to Bernard the sense of ease that always sat between the two of them had returned. Whatever that fluttery, uneasy feeling was he'd had when they'd made eye contact earlier, it seemed to have passed. "So now that we've established that this 'transformation' thing isn't new to me, are you willing to stop hiding behind that blanket like a shield?" He asked knowingly, and Ellington flushed—at least what little of her face he could see.

"I—I don't know," she said uncertainly, looking away nervously. It was clear she was still a little unsure of herself, and her new changes. "It's been bad enough with Dr. Hismus treating me like some kind of a Christmas miracle."

"Well in a sense, you kind of are." Bernard gave her a comforting look, setting one of his hands over hers. "I promise I won't laugh, or poke or prod. I just want to see. Is that so bad?"

Elle hesitated, a long moment, her eyes mistrustful and wary before she sighed softly and nodded. "But if you do, I'll…I don't know. I won't give you the benefit of the doubt again," she warned.

"I think I can keep a promise, Elle."

Somehow reassured by the use of his nickname for her, Ellington tentatively removed the blanket from her face. At first glance, it seemed that nothing had changed and she was, in fact, exactly the same as she'd been the day she came to the Pole. Under closer inspection, however, it became apparent that her cheeks were flushed a soft pink and were slightly sparkly, and that something about her seemed in general just a little more petite and elfin.

Bernard's face seemed to change drastically at the sight of her, his eyes widening and his own cheeks flushing notably. "It's that bad?" Elle asked, disappointment written all over her face. Bernard blinked twice, startled, before breaking into a smile.

"What? No, o-of course it's not bad," He replied, his voice a little higher than usual. "You look…well, honestly, adorable. Being an elf suits you." That was putting it gently. Quite frankly, he'd always found Elle pretty; he'd told her as much before. But now, there was something about her as an elf that got under his skin, made him feel a little unsettled by the pull he felt towards her: like some sort of protective urge. Attraction perhaps? That wasn't exactly a welcome thought, but then, with her giving him that vulnerable, open look it didn't seem half bad an idea.

For Elle's part, it was a little unsettling to see Bernard with such an endearing, goofy little smile on his face. "Thanks, I think. Hismus says my ears have all but come in by now," she went on shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear to reveal that they now had pointed tips. Bernard had to admit (though he didn't say as much) that they were in fact some of the prettiest ears he'd cared to notice. "What's that smile for?" Elle asked, cutting in on his thoughts.

"Nothing in particular. It's just that a part of me never thought I'd actually get to see you as an elf," Bernard replied casually, trying to tone down his grin a little. He didn't know what exactly it was that had him smiling like the Cheshire Cat over her transformation, but it was almost thoughtless. After all, it was something special for another person to have gone through what he did.

"Neither did I. To be honest, I didn't actually take your offer seriously at first because, well. I guess it felt selfish, you know? I mean, it sounds too good to be true to begin with, but beyond that, I guess it felt a bit like running away from my problems." Elle ran a worried hand through her hair, staring thoughtfully down at her socked feet. "Now I'm just grateful that everything worked out—even if it wasn't the way I was planning on." She sighed and looked up, a little flushed in embarrassment. "I've kept you here listening to me for quite a while, haven't I? I'll try not to make that mistake again."

"I wasn't complaining," Bernard pointed out, stretching his legs out and leaning back against the couch. "I'm on break right now anyway, so I figured I might as well actually make use of it for once. Besides, this week's kinda felt long without you around." He gave her a little nudge to the arm, feeling a bit pleased with himself when she blushed again.

"So you missed me?" Elle teased back, giving him a shy yet wry smile.

Bernard found himself smiling in spite of himself yet again, even though he had to admit his ears felt a little hot with embarrassment. "You could say that. I know you've probably had a lot on your mind this week, but have you given any thought to the job I offered you?"

Ellington quickly snapped out of her humorous mood, sitting upright at attention in surprise. "You mean it's still on the table?"

"Of course it is. Why would I revoke it? Nothing's changed, at least in regard to how fit you are for the position."

Elle seemed genuinely taken aback. "When you put it that way it seems obvious."

"Isn't it?" Bernard observed her expression closely before going on. "You really didn't think I'd give you the job, did you."

"No offense? But no. I have less than no experience as an elf and no prior work experience. It did sound a little insane."

"Insane or not, it's yours if you want it. I know it's sudden, but sometimes sudden can make things easier, if that makes any sense. I could really use your help in the workshop starting Monday morning, if you're willing."

"And Santa's okay with it? Now that he knows and all?"

"He said that if I'm alright with it, he is too. He trusts my judgment," Bernard said calmly, giving a decisive nod. It was true that Scott had put up little resistance to the idea once Ellington was an elf. After all, Bernard wasn't exactly one to talk up the abilities of another person, which he seemed quite willing to do in Ellington's case. If that wasn't a green light, then nothing was.

Ellington nodded, examining a slight hangnail on her thumb before giving a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'll give it a shot."

"Really?" Bernard perked up, actually surprised that she hadn't tried to gently turn him down.

"Why not? All I'm doing is sitting on my butt moping, playing with Buddy and watching New Girl reruns with Carol when she isn't busy. I doubt being productive would kill me," said Elle with a rueful roll of her eyes. "Besides, any form of a mental distraction is always a good thing in my case."

In spite of how complicated things were, in spite of everything that had been gained and lost over the past few months, Bernard still couldn't believe that for perhaps the first time, the position of Number Two elf was going to someone who could actually handle it. He had to admit, the idea made him a little giddy with excitement, a thrilled gleam in his eye. "So you'll take it?"

"Isn't that what I just said?" Elle said with a little laugh, tilting her head and smirking at the endearing look on his face.

"Alright!" Bernard clasped his hands together, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "I'll let Santa know to write up the papers as soon as he can. It would be easier to get the technicalities out of the way over the weekend, after all. I'll need to let the elves know, since the rumors about whether or not you'd accept have been running rampant and I'm pretty sure Quentin and Curtis have been running a small betting pool about it on the side…" Realizing that he was rambling, Bernard paused to find Elle watching him with mild amusement that bordered on fondness.

"Someone seems a little enthusiastic." Elle couldn't help but giggle at the blush that spread across his cheeks, her heart doing that odd flip again at the way he smiled and ducked his head.

"What can I say? I've been waiting for someone to come along who could actually handle the position for a long time—longer than you've been alive, to be honest."

"Oh, right. Of course." She nodded in false understanding, clearly not convinced that that was the whole truth but playing along. Bernard chuckled and gave her knee a little shove, making her giggle again.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I'm glad it's you who I get to work with," He admitted, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

"That's more like it," Elle said with a smile, a genuine smile unmarred by the sadness of the week. She soon mellowed out though, casting her eyes downward. "I…I'm glad to be working with you too, B. Even though I was trying to stay out of the way this week, I did miss you."

Bernard was surprised at how candid that comment was, especially when she was one for playing down how she felt about just about anything. But he didn't dwell on it too long, stricken instead by another part of her comment. "B?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"What? I have to start trying on nicknames at some point, since we're going to be working together," Elle pointed out with a carefree shrug. "You did say I could give you one, and I know for a fact you hate being called Bernie."

Though noting that he didn't hate being called that as much when Elle said it, Bernard still pulled a face. "Yeah, Jack's diminutives don't really do much for me."

"Well then, until I find a better one, B it is."

Bernard shook his head in resignation and leaned his head back against the couch with a sigh. He looked over at Ellington with a lopsided smile, somehow forgetting that his hand was still on her knee—even though Ellington herself was surprisingly alert to it. "So long as I keep getting to call you Elle, I'd say that's a pretty fair trade."

Ellington wasn't exactly sure what the fluttery feeling in her chest was, but she couldn't help but feel like this might not turn out to be such a bad start to a second chance, after all. "It's a deal then."

Of course, attraction begins in the smallest of ways. It can be the tiniest thing a person does that sets off a chain reaction, dominoes tipping until the entire array is in a heap and one finds oneself quite unexpectedly in love.

This was how things happened for Ellington, at least. She wasn't sure which domino had been the first, what had begun her tipping towards that inevitable conclusion, but she suspected that it had begun long before she had ever become an elf or made the North Pole her permanent home. Probably sometime in that period when she'd been nothing more than a girl with big problems and Bernard had been so kind to her that the beginning seed of a crush had formed, but back then she'd dismissed it quickly. What kind of a dumb teenage move was it to fall in love with someone who was by all means immortal? Dottie had subjected her to Twilight enough times for her to know that that was a really poor idea on a good day, and on a bad one like her situation made for, downright mental.

But as the saying goes 'the heart wants what it wants', and over the next few days Ellington found herself falling down a rabbit hole of rather unwarranted thoughts and emotions. Feelings she'd never expected to have—let alone have for Bernard, of all people— began to crop up without any sort of forewarning. Besides the fact that her newly developed elfin moods were a little unusual to her still, this was out of hand.

Ellington didn't like having crushes. She'd gone through all of middle and high school homeschooled, sure, but she'd gotten out enough and made enough friends to learn the phrase "don't catch feelings" and take it to heart like an oath. So this debilitating thing she was forming in regards to Bernard wasn't just a terrible idea, it also went against everything she'd told herself she wanted. The fact that she was going directly against what she'd always believed was almost more shocking than how bad of an idea it was for her to want Bernard at all.

Not only was he now officially her boss, but he was also "technically" much older than her. Sure she looked like a seventeen-hundred-year old elf, but inside she was only seventeen and he had all the life experience of almost seventeen hundred years himself. Not to mention, she still remembered his concern over a certain ring box, to which a great number of questions still remained. None of these things exactly added up to a 'go ahead' in any way, shape, or form.

So making the assumption that she was being a grade A dumbass and needed to stop being thirsty was a relatively easy conclusion to draw, and one Ellington kept very much to herself. Not that other people didn't notice what was going on, because in spite of what Ellington was telling herself, this wasn't a one-sided problem.

'Rule 9,274, The Emissary Clause. Every 550 years, an emissary must be chosen from among humans to visit the North Pole, be they lonely or without cheer. All emissaries must be under the age of eighteen. All emissaries must be female. This practice must be observed every 550th year, with the exception of postponements. Such postponements may be made only by Santa or the Head Elf.'

This was as much information that Santa, Curtis and Bernard had about the Emissary Clause when deciding to allow the Connelly girls North for the holidays. The rest, as Curtis had explained, had been Deadlocked—unable to be viewed or opened until a specific amount of time. How long that period was, none of them knew, and with the Clause supposedly fulfilled as it was, nobody thought to go back and take a look to see if anything had changed.

At least, until two days after Ellington had become an elf. Curtis, who was still Keeper of the Handbook and therefore the only one with near constant access to it, had come back from a lunch break to find the tome spread open on his desk, new pages exposed to the air for the first time in many hundreds of years. Intrigued, he'd come closer to find if the book had somehow fallen open by mistake while he was away—only to find that the entry was one he hadn't expected to be seeing again for at least another 550 years, if not longer. His went wide as he read the passage over, casting a suspicious glance around the room.

"Bernard?" he called anxiously. "Bernard, this isn't funny. If you opened this yourself come out and let's talk about it." There was no reply. With a frown, Curtis scooped the book up off the desk and snapped it shut, resolving to keep it on his person from then on out.

Then he found it open again that night, at home on his bedside table. The next morning, it showed up next to his breakfast cereal. He quickly resolved to take it to Bernard as soon as he could.

He dropped the book on Bernard's desk early Saturday morning, the heavy literature making a dull thunk on the wooden surface. Bernard looked up from some sort of contract, an unamused frown on his face.

"Mind telling me what that thing is doing on my desk?" he asked, clearly not in the mood to be trifled with.

"Only if you tell me why you've been keeping secrets," Curtis said tetchily, crossing his arms in a huff. Bernard's brows furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play reindeer games with me, Bernard. You know exactly what I mean!" He pointed at the Handbook. "We need to have a serious discussion about rule 9274."

Confused and unsettled by Curtis' strident tone (normally the younger elf wouldn't dare speak to him in such a way,) Bernard tentatively reached out and opened the book, flipping forward to find the pages marked with a wide, well-worn green ribbon. "The Handbook's been popping up all over the place over the past week," Curtis went on. "Ever since Ellington signed her elfing contract, I've been playing an unwanted game of peekaboo with it. And when I finally thought to check through it, I couldn't believe what I was reading!"

Already tired of Curtis' rant, Bernard flipped the book open and coughed slightly at the dusty pages before peering down at the text. Slowly but surely, the color began to drain out of his face.

'This Clause has been created and endorsed by Nicholas of Myra, on this twenty fourth day of the month of December, being Christmas eve of the year three hundred and seventy four. Given the immovable and stubborn nature of Theodulus, sometime Bernard, my spiritual child and beloved and trusty helper, I have penned this clause with the hope of overcoming his insensibility and finding him a suitable match—if not among elves, then among humans.'

"No." Bernard shoved himself backward in his chair, away from the desk and the book. "No, this i-i-isn't right." He shot forward like a bullet to fumble through his desk drawer, searching for the little red box that had become the bane of his existence. "I have a ring box, it showed up out of nowhere years ago and has been popping up all over the place the past few months—"

"Just like the Handbook was doing to me," Curtis pointed out thoughtfully, stroking his chin. He had to admit he hadn't expected Bernard to be in the dark about the Clause. He'd assumed that he knew, because Bernard usually did about these kind of things. "Are you telling me that you didn't know this whole fiasco had to do with you? That this wasn't the reason for you being so sulky about the Connellys coming here?"

"Of course I didn't know," Bernard snapped, slamming his desk drawer shut in frustration. There was no box to be found—it had picked a prime time to go rogue on him again. He hoped that maybe he'd get lucky and it would fling itself into someone's fireplace this time. "If I knew I never would have been okay with any of them coming here. Gingerbread, I would have torn the pages clean out of the Handbook myself."

"Bernard!" Curtis was appalled, and Bernard could only slump down in his chair.

"Well what would you have done, hmm Curtis? If you were being cornered into falling in love—no, getting married. This clause doesn't say anything about love."

"Come to terms with my fate? I don't know. Look what Santa did when he had to deal with the Mrs. Clause. He rose to the occasion! Why can you do the same?"

"Because Santa has a choice!" Bernard kicked at the floor, his expression completely discouraged in a way that Curtis didn't exactly feel comfortable to see. Bernard always had himself together, always had a grip on things—except for when his temper slipped, of course. "If he doesn't want to get married, great! He can leave the coat behind and go back to whatever life he had before. But me? This is all I've known for so long…and I certainly don't have anything to go back to." Wow, that train of thought put him in a dark place.

"What did you do back in 2006? When we had the um. You know. The Escape Clause incident."

"It was…awful. I didn't even know what to do with myself."

"Well nobody said you'd have to leave," Curtis pointed out, and Bernard lolled his head to look at him, deadpan.

"Really, Curtis? You've been Keeper of the Handbook for how long, and yet you've forgotten that every Clause has a consequence if you don't fulfill it?"

"So…what? You'd stop being an elf?" Curtis' sentence hit him like a punch to the gut. Whatever color was left in Bernard's face drained clean away, leaving him pale and ghostly. To lose his job and purpose was bad enough, but to lose the very essence of who he'd become? To have to be human again, after all of those centuries? That was a fate worse than death, in his mind.

"Maybe it would be better to just get married," Curtis offered, not bothering to wait for an answer that was only going to be angry and upset. "The Clause was only supposed to help you, right? Widen your search field if you couldn't find an elf who struck your fancy?"

"So?"

"So, you can marry whoever you want. I'm sure Santa would be willing to help—"

"Do not tell Scott about this." It was rare for Bernard to use his boss' first name, and the look on his face told Curtis just how unwise testing him on the subject would be. Bernard's angry pointing did a good enough job conveying that. "I mean it, Curtis. I'll figure this out on my own."

Curtis heaved a long suffering sigh, clearly not liking what he was being told. "Fine. You might consider talking to Cupid, though."

"Already did. He's been less helpful than—than Chet on Christmas eve."

"Yikes. Then have you at least considered the obvious?" Curtis asked, setting his hands on his hips—an old habit he'd picked up during his stint as head elf.

"What." Bernard's tone was flatter than gingerbread and half as sweet.

"That the Clause brought girls here, partially for your sake. And the only girl who's stayed here, is—"

"No. No! Don't you even go there," Bernard stated, wagging his finger at the younger elf, who merely broke into a smirk.

"Why not?" With a grin, Curtis pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"After all she's been through, you think she'd want to have anything to do with all my drama?"

"I thought she'd be sympathetic. And hey, if things don't work out, I'm sure she'd understand and things wouldn't be too messy."

"I'm not going to put her through that! She doesn't deserve to be someone's last minute bride," Bernard groused, his mood sinking even further. He didn't know why, but actually saying out loud that he didn't want Ellington involved really affected him—made him feel truly hopeless.

"Here's the real question though: if you weren't so caught up in all of this, would you want to date her?"

Bernard hesitated a long moment, the sight of which alone made Curtis chuckle. "Hey, shut up. And…I don't know. If she ever felt like she wanted to go out with me, and—and it ended up that she had some sort of feelings my way, then…yeah. Yeah, I suppose I would. It would be a lot more comfortable than trying to date someone I don't know—so long as it didn't ruin our friendship. Or the job!" He added quickly, then sunk into a train of thought about just how nice that might be.

Curtis reached over and snapped the Handbook shut, startling Bernard out of his daydreaming. "Seems to me like you have your answer already—even if you don't want to accept how you feel," he finished, seeing Bernard's gaze darken.

"It doesn't matter how I feel about it, Curtis."

"Sorry to inform you but um, how you feel about things is kind of what this whole situation hinges on."

"I am not dragging Ellington into this, and that's final!"

"What aren't I getting dragged into?" Ellington's calm, slightly confused voice cut into the tension of the conversation like a hot knife through butter. Bernard's eye went wide as saucers, the question of whether or not she'd overheard any of the conversation mingling with his realization that he'd asked her there to go over her work agreement and holy night, did she look pretty in that sweater.

"I'll leave it to Bernard to explain, if he wants to," Curtis replied with a cheeky tilt of his chin. Clearly, he was enjoying the irony of the sticky situation and didn't intend to help the head elf fish himself out of it. "If you'll excuse me, Quentin asked for my help this morning. I think we're close to making the jetpacks hands-free! Wouldn't that be great?" He made his way past Ellington, giving her a friendly nod.

"Thrilling," Elle replied, obviously confused by his distracting comment but more concerned with what was making Bernard look like hell warmed over. "You alright?" she asked, walking over and setting a small stack of books on the desk. "I did the reading you told me to do, it was a lot but I think I've got most of it tucked away up here." Elle tapped two fingers against the side of her head and watched him sit in silence a moment before sitting down in the chair opposite his desk. "Okay, spill. I could feel the upset from you halfway across the workshop. Is something wrong with what we're trying to do here? Or about me that's worrying you?"

It took him a minute to pull himself together, but when he did he sat up with a sigh and tried to force a smile onto his face. "Nonsense. Just some peripheral stuff to be dealt with, nothing to worry about." He set about straightening out the agreement on his desk, avoiding Elle's knowing gaze.

"Really."

"Mhmm."

"So it doesn't have anything to do with this?" Bernard looked up to see Elle setting an all too familiar red velvet box on top of the stack of books she'd set down earlier. She fixed him with an appraising look.

"Where did you get that?" Snatching it back, Bernard was shocked when the lid popped open, revealing for the first time a ring snugly fixed between the pillows. "Wha—?"

"I found it on my night table this morning." Bernard's face dropped and he looked up to find Ellington wearing an embarrassed, awkward expression, her mannerisms screaming flustered as she scratched at the back of her neck.

"I think we need to talk."

Disclaimers:
I am not Disney or Disney affiliated and therefore do not own any rights or credits to any characters, concepts or places portrayed in or from "The Santa Clause 1, 2, or 3". The only thing I own is my own creative work and original content and characters, including the Connelly family, the Emissary Clause and Elle herself.

Many characters and concepts are borrowed/used shamelessly from the works and headcanons of SafyreSky, all rights and credit go to her for coming up with such incredible ideas. These include but are not limited to the Legate concept, Jacqueline Frost and the portrayal of many other non-canon/canon characters.