Smiles

by SafyreSky

An OC heavy one-shot dump usually focusing on Jack, family & friends, with the occasional divergence. Now Playing: The Clifton Society Incident, Part 1: Search. Legend-napped, Santa and a powerless Jack (so mostly Santa) weigh their options to escape a crazy cult. Meanwhile, Jacqueline and Charlie are on the case, hoping to reach their Legendary Counterparts before it's too late.

15. The Clifton Society Incident: Search

The Clifton Society Incident
Part 1: Search

The silence in the tower was heavy. Had it not been for the dull echo of the music from the main floor, you could've mistaken it for Elfcon 5. Nobody spoke; nobody moved. Not until Jacqueline finally broke the silence with a devastating blow.

"I can't hear Jack," she said, paler than usual.

"Like, at all?" Charlie replied.

"Yeah, not at all. And it's not a block. It's just...it's quiet. It's like, it's been cut off. But not like cut. It's like…blurred. Like it just doesn't exist," she said, confused. "Something's like. Fogging it up." She frowned. "I don't like this at all. Bernard, we need to go down there like, right now immediately."

"We have no idea what's happening, and the last thing we need is the two of you also going quiet. ELFS will report back and once we know what's going on, we'll send you two in. Just hang tight, alright?"

Charlie glanced over at Jacqueline; she let out an annoyed exhale, then nodded.

"Sure thing, Bernard," Charlie said, pulling Jacqueline back with him. There was a flurry of movement as everyone got back to work, buttons being clicked and dials being whirred. Lights blinked all around them, steam letting out through some pipes way high above them. Elle tapped her chin, frowning in thought.

"Is it possible to just stop magic?" she asked. "Between the sleigh losing power, and now Jacquie's connection with Jack being gone, it's like something just. Stopped all magic."

"Okay, this has gone from ringing bells to sounding alarms," Jacqueline replied. "How much longer until they land?"

"Let's check," Bernard said, and the two elves closest to him immediately got to work. Switches were flicked; a whizzing sound filling the air.

"Transmission shifted over to the central control, boss."

"Thanks Gene."

A sharp ring sliced through the small room, very quickly turned down. "Push to talk has been disabled for more fluent communication, sir."

"Thanks, Tina," Bernard said, as static cracked.

"Communications are ready, B."

"ELFS, this is HQ. Do you copy?" Bernard said out loud.

"Mackenzie speaking! We read you loud and clear, boss."

"All safe?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good. Status update, Mackenzie?"

"We're approaching Santa's last known location. The forest is pretty dense, but we're finding signs of impact as we approach. A few cracked branches equally spaced apart. It's about the width of the sleigh, were I to guess just by looking."

"Keep us posted. We need to know what the situation is when you land. We've lost all contact with Santa since you guys left." Bernard paused, for a moment, looking thoughtful; everyone stared at him, waiting for instructions. "I think we may have a Blue Christmas on our hands. I need you guys to confirm that for me, alright?"

"Will do, just give us a sec! We're approaching the site, sir. The trail has gotten a lot more visible."

There was a beep as Mackenzie clicked her radio off.

"Blue Christmas?" Jacqueline asked.

"It's the code for when Santa goes missing. The big one. Once we declare it, we can send out special ops."

"Special ops?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, you two," Bernard said with a smirk.

"Legates on standby, eh?" Jacqueline said, elbowing Charlie with a small smile.

He laughed. "Special ops reporting for duty!" He said with a salute.

Jacqueline's smile got a little bigger, though Charlie noticed there was still worry on her face. "Hey, it's okay Jacqueline. We've got this! I'm sure your brother's fine."

"I'd be surprised if they didn't return him in the next hour," Elle piped up, eliciting a snort from Jacqueline. "It'll be okay, snow bud," she added, with a reassuring smile.

"Thanks guys. It's just...hmm. I'm so used to having that connection these days, it's weird that there's just, silence." She shivered. "Bah. I've got like, all sorts of fae senses going off right now. I know I've seen this before!" she huffed, looking frustrated now. "I just can't remember..."

"Elle, you were going to say something a while ago, weren't you?" Bernard asked as Jacqueline trailed off. Her entire demeanour had shifted; her back rested against the banister of the stairs, her head bowed down, squinting at the floor with a fiery intensity.

"I was? Oh! Yeah, I was!" she turned to Jacqueline. "I was thinking about the Clifton Manor Incident."

"The what now?" Charlie said. "That sounded like a title. I could hear the capital letters."

"It's the best Bernard and Jacqueline story you'll ever hear, Charlie," Elle said with a grin.

"Clifton..." Jacqueline mumbled, looking even more lost in thought now.

"Do Cliff's notes exist?" Charlie asked.

"No, but I got this. I can whip up some mean Clif-TON's notes," Elle said, waiting a beat. She grinned as the pun kicked in, and groans filled the air. She even got some eye rolls! "Personal best," she said to herself.

Bernard was one of those eye rolls, smiling nonetheless. "Alright, Elle. Let's see what you got."

"Challenge accepted," she said with a grin, passing some documents on to the elf behind her before turning back to Charlie. "So, in the mid to late eighteenth century, there was this Santa with a CRAP brother. Dude was so upset about his brother being Santa, and the family knowing and being OKAY with it, that he made himself the BIGGEST pain in the side, going so far as to threaten to take Mrs. Claus's home away from her when their father passed."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh," Bernard confirmed. "Santa was here, but his brother was down in London, with their dad. He had all the time in the world to mess with things so that when their dad passed, the estate would be all his."

"That's whack."

"Big time," Elle agreed. "Mrs. Claus let Santa know, and he sent Bernard down to help with some petty thievery! He was supposed to find the deed and bring it back to Santa, so that Mrs. Claus and the kids could stay at their London home."

"I'm getting the vibe that it didn't end well?" Charlie asked, scooting behind a pair of elves rushing to the stairs.

"It was going alright until Jacqueline crash landed in the lodge," Bernard began. "She had been out at a ball—"

"—specifically, a ball Mrs. Claus herself was hosting," Elle interrupted.

"Wait, hold on. Jacqueline was at a ball hosted by Mrs. Claus? Did she like, know?"

Before Elle could reply, the radio cracked to life.

"HQ? Do you copy?"

The mood shifted back to serious as Bernard leant over the console to reply. "Yep, loud and clear. What's up?"

"We've landed at the site and things are kind of off," Mackenzie replied, her voice a little garbled. "The sleigh looks to have landed fine, but there's a nasty crash trail. I don't think they had the reindeer when they fell. Looks like they slid a fair distance from the impact point. There's a lot of snow piles—and they don't look natural. Definitely signs of a struggle. No sign of Santa, unfortunately."

There was another voice in the distance, on Mackenzie's end. They could faintly hear a shout, and someone calling her over.

"Just a second, boss. I think we've found some foreign magic." The line went quiet again.

Bernard exhaled loudly. "I guess that confirms what we heard," he said.

"Should we go?" Charlie asked, Jacqueline still looking miles away.

"Maybe when Jacqueline returns to the present you guys can head out. For now, though, sit tight, sport. If there's foreign magic, chances are we'll have to send you guys down with our resident expert."

"To the present?"

"Yeah, she's way in the past right now," Bernard said. He glanced up, squinting at the sprite. "I'd say a couple of hundred years, at least."

Charlie waved his hand in front of Jacqueline's face; she did not move. "Woah. Freaky."

"A lot of magibeans get like that when they try to remember things from ages ago. Don't worry, Charlie. She'll be fine."

"Cool. I'll take your word for it," Charlie said, glancing once more at the sprite before turning back to Elle. "Did she know that it was Mrs. Claus, or?"

"She had no idea," Elle replied, continuing the story like they hadn't been interrupted. "Not until later, at least. Anyway, she had had one heck of a realization mid-mingle, left the ball in what I imagine was a very snowy Cinderella-esque way, and went to Bernard to vent."

"To Bernard?" Charlie asked, looking at Jacqueline. She had not yet returned to this plane of existence, it seemed. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Bernard said with a smile. "We go way back; I met her the day she became a Legate. She was a breath of fresh air, that's for sure. After her brother left, I told her if she ever wanted to talk or anything, she could come find me."

"And that's exactly what she did," Elle said. "Bernard managed to help her through her panic, and the two of them realized that they both knew Mrs. Claus."

"And once she learnt that we were both trying to help her, it was non-negotiable. She was going to help no matter what I said or did," Bernard added.

"But it didn't quite go according to plan," Elle interjected.

"Not that there was one to begin with," Bernard admitted, a little bit embarrassed, thinking back on it. "We found a safe in a wall, and it went a little south from there. We had to fight off a handful of fancy men with guns. Jacqueline did a number on them; you should've seen it!"

"So did B-Man," Jacqueline mumbled, flatly.

"Welcome back Jacqu—" A quick glance at the sprite and the words died in Charlie's throat. She was staring so hard at the floor, he thought it may start to freeze. "Never mind. You fought off armed men?"

"Sure did. It wasn't the first time I'd done that, and certainly wasn't the last. Especially when you're friends with that one," he added, pointing towards Jacqueline with his chin. "By the time we finished with them, they looked like a handmade Christmas card left out in the snow, and I had more than enough to take care of Santa's brother."

"Not just the deed," Elle said with a grin. "But the original will, and proof that James, Santa's brother, had messed with it."

"Oh, sweet!"

"Very. A week later and James wasn't a problem anymore. At least, not for us," Bernard added, eyes briefly flitting towards Jacqueline.

"I was thinking though," Elle began, thoughtfully. "What if that wasn't it? What if James got so angry about everything, that he started trying to find ways to like. You know. Get rid of all magic?"

"Oh my god, oh my god, you're so right Elle!" Jacqueline shouted, snapping back to the present day by pushing off of the banister, startling Charlie. "I cannot believe I forgot!" She rushed around the centre console, between the two head elves, facing Charlie. "After the settlement, James went off the wall bonkers. He started a hunting club, but for myths and legends. Got really into folklore. Gave us a heap of trouble! Do you know how many random malicious magibeans I had to deal with? Alongside ORDIbeings? It was a huge threat and what became a little sojourn into the world of high society London became work. Good LORD this dude just would not STOP. I can't remember what happened to him, if he died, or met someone nice and calmed down a bit, but I doubt that that happened. The calm down bit, at least. He may have gotten married. Beatrice didn't care much to know, since he was making such a ruckus."

"Bernard," Mackenzie huffed over the radio.

He immediately looked worried. "What's wrong?"

"Something's up. There's old magic here. I think Toby triggered some kind of trap card. We need magic experts, stat!"

"On it," Bernard replied, pulling his radio out of his satchel. "Curtis? You there?"

"Party central reporting in. Things are going smooth as can be down here!

"Well, that's great! Because things are not going as well up here!"

"What's going on?"

"Clifton involvement, we suspect. Santa's gone missing. Look, I need you to find our resident magic expert and get her up here right away. If she asks for specifics, tell her old-fashioned magical traps, and that's all we know right now. We'll be deploying her with the Legates."

"You got it, boss. Anything else?"

"Just keep things calm down there. We're doing our best to get this handled quickly and quietly, so let's keep it light down there, okay?"

"Yeah, sure! Holler if you need anything else!"

"Thanks, Curtis." Bernard put the radio away, exhaling once more. "I'm calling it. Elves!"

"And Legates."

"And Legates," Bernard said with a pointed look at Jacqueline. "We're officially entering the Blue Christmas protocol. Legates? Prepare to be deployed. We've got a limited window of time to get in, and get Santa out and back in the air. Let's not waste a single moment of it!"

---

Jack was getting worse by the second, and Santa couldn't figure out what the heck was happening to the guy. He was dragging his feet more, and somehow managing to look paler than usual.

The troop headed south-ish, Jack's arm over Santa's shoulders. The leader was at the front, because of course he was. The pair were surrounded by the bowmen, though their crossbows were down. For now. Behind them, the kids trotted to keep up, the boy nearly tripping over his robes several times, the girl holding the staff very, very threateningly. That is, as threatening as a twelve-year-old with a stick could be. Santa glanced over at Jack. The sprite looked up and did one of those loud, angry sighs.

"Oh GREAT! Now I'm gonna be ITCHY!"

Santa looked up as well. The shadow of what looked like a colonial style house loomed before them. It was maybe three stories, and very square. Santa couldn't make out many details, but he suspected something Jack could already see was disagreeing with him.

"Quiet, you!" the girl shouted, whacking the back of Jack's knees.

"OW! You know, it's kids like you that get themselves FROZEN. Don't HIT people! It's rude. Why is everyone so rude down here? Honestly! You know, Santa, this would NEVER happen to us in Canada."

"Jack, calm down. Jamie, he's right. It's rude to hit people, especially people you've already beaten up. Haven't you ever heard the phrase don't hit a man when he's down?"

The girl flushed, looking away as they approached the wide stairs up to the portico of the house. Santa shook his head, glancing above them at the overhang. Nailed into the wood were an assortment of horseshoes, hung upside-down. Santa glanced back at Jack.

"Horseshoes?" he whispered.

"YES," Jack practically yelled, doing his best to climb the stairs without Santa's help.

"Shhh! Tone it down a notch, would ya, Jack?"

"Sorry," Jack stage whispered. "They make us itchy. They don't repel us these days; they haven't for THOUSANDS of years. I know some fairies who actually give them TO ordibeings for good luck! And sometimes," he said, laughing, "sometimes, for bad luck!"

Santa stared at the sprite, dumbfounded., "How is it that you manage to be both loud and quiet at the same time?!"

"I'm gifted. You know, we even use IRON," Jack continued, in the same boggling loud-quiet tone. "That's not even a recent thing, we've been using it for centuries! Apparently, it used to sting a bit. Not anymore. Which is why I DON'T GET these bracelets!"

Santa shushed Jack once more, glancing around them. If any of the crossbowmen had heard them, they didn't acknowledge it. The kids, however, seemed to be watching inquisitively.

Santa gently put his gloved finger to his lips (which was hard to do in mittens), quietly shushing the kids. "These are trade secrets," he whispered with a wink. The boy looked up at him and gave an awe-inspired nod; the girl, despite trying to look fierce, seemed to soften a little, the smallest of smiles breaching containment.

"If you two are quite finished?" The leader said, getting to the door. "We've…arrived," he said, the double doors opening with a drawn-out creak.

The front of the group stepped in. Santa frowned. He looked at Jack, then back at the forest where they had emerged from; then back at the building in front of them. It didn't look uninviting, but it certainly didn't feel inviting.

Welcoming or not, the truth was that the two of them were nothing short of prisoners, and this could be very, very bad for them, yep. Alright, Scott thought to himself, frowning. I don't have my hat. Can't call for help. Jack is down. No idea why. What. To. Do.

He felt something poke into his side. It was one of the crossbows.

"Go on, get inside!" the bowman said, poking again.

Santa pinched the stirrup between his forefinger and thumb, and, looking the bowman dead in the eye with his most no-nonsense face (Carol would've been proud), moved it off his side. "Don't poke Santa. I'm not the Pillsbury Doughboy, alright?"

"Ah! Ah ha ha! Pillsbury DOUGHBOY! That's. That's a good one, Santa! I'm gonna remember that one," Jack said with a smirk, scratching his arm as they crossed the threshold. "You know, I could go for some cookies. But not the Pillsbury ones. There's just something about those seasonal ones that doesn't sit right with me. They don't even TASTE that GOOD but people go crazy for them because your face is on them and frankly—"

"Welcome to the home of the Clifton Society!" the leader said with a flourish, cutting Jack off as the lights snapped on, bathing them all in a cool glow.

The front entrance was rather large; very spacious. Racks were on either side of the door, some empty, some holding jackets, others holding shoes. The entrance opened up into a large foyer. It was tall, as well; a modest chandelier swung above them, lighting up the dark green space. Past the foyer on the left was a wood panelled glass door, presently closed off from the rest of the hall. It looked homey in there. A faint glow emitted from the room; Santa could just about make out the Christmas tree, closed off from the rest of the house.

"We are hunters of only the most magical of beasts," the leader continued as the rest of the crew shuffled in, hanging their crossbows on the hooks beside the front door. "And the rarest of folk legends," he added.

Santa glanced around. The walls were covered in hunting stuff—pelts, horns on placards, that sort of thing. Except the pelts were all sorts of colours; one of the horns looked like it was shimmering, creating rainbows when the light hit it just right. A stuffed jackalope was on top of a chest, and Santa nearly cringed when he saw what he could've sworn were fairy wings, way up high on the walls.

"Half of this stuff is fake," Jack said. "That's a knock off unicorn horn if I ever saw one," he added, weakly pointing at the shimmery horn with the hand that was still draped over Santa's shoulder. He was scratching his side with the other one. "The wings though? They're just. Eugh. That's gruesome."

"Well?" the man said. "What do you think?"

"I think this is the ugliest green I've ever seen in my LIFE," Jack said loudly, scratching the side of his face now. He stood up straighter, ready to tear into the interior decor. Santa shrugged Jack's arm off of his shoulder, gently, still a little weary. "You matched the baseboards too? Come on, that's tacky. You're supposed to paint baseboards base colours! Like I'd have matched it with that dark wood on that door over there," he said, pointing to the dark wood on the glass door to their left, and scratching his other arm with his right hand. He stumbled back a bit, right into Santa. "Hey, can you get my back?"

"Could we get an antihistamine for my friend? I think he's having some kinda allergic reaction."

"You THINK?" Jack replied sarcastically, trying really hard to get to the centre of his back while using Santa as a support.

"Oh, my god. That's ENOUGH out of you two," the leader said. He had headed down the hall to a door that stood under the staircase. "No, you may NOT get an antihistamine. Those horseshoes are doing their job and will continue to do so. Admittedly, I thought they'd block you from entering but evidently that's wrong, seeing as how you were able to cross the threshold just fine."

"Fine? I can't feel my HANDS and you call that fine?"

"You can't feel your hands?!" Santa asked, alarmed.

"All I feel is REALLY itchy and these stupid things are not helping," Jack said, making fists and bringing up his wrists. The skin around the silver bracelets looked especially irritated. "I think my hands are tingly, but that could just be ITCHINESS," he huffed, now scratching the inside of his palms.

"Good GOD why are you two so annoying?" the leader said. "Just shut it. For two seconds." He pinched his nose and took a breather.

"Colin? Back already?"

"Indeed we are, Evelyn! We had a successful hunt this evening! Come see," he said with a grin that churned Santa's stomach.

"I don't like that face at all," Santa whispered to Jack, the sprite grunting distastefully in agreement mid-scratch.

Behind him, on the opposite side of the foyer, was a rather large living room. There were no doors. Only an open entrance way. Old fashioned couches stood in a square, the fireplace roaring. Towards the front of the room by the windows, a woman got up from a very comfortable looking, worn armchair, baby in her arms. She gently tucked the child into the bassinet beside her, before making her way towards the group and standing in the archway. She looked over at the group, her eyes practically bulging out of her head once they landed on Santa.

"Hi there," he said with a wave, his other arm currently being used as a support while Jack scratched his legs.

"Hello," she said quietly, waving back. Then she turned to Colin. "Care to explain, Colin?"

"A Clifton has FINALLY done it, Evelyn! I found Father Christmas! Jack Frost, too. I was going to leave him behind but Santa here insisted I bring him. Then it occurred to me. Jack Frost, right? Controls the winter season, ice and snow and such? In the histories, the two fairy creatures that ruined our founder? One of them controlled the winter season," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I think we may be able to use him to get to that menace," he finished, his smirk intensifying.

"I like that face even less," Jack whispered to Santa, scratching his neck.

"You're going to do what now?" The woman said, glancing back towards the group, her eyes widening when she saw the kids at the very back. "Oh my god. Jamie? Stevie?"

The kids flushed a bit, looking anywhere but at the woman. She turned to Colin, angrily. "You brought the kids with you?"

"Of course! They'll one day be heading our Society, Eve. They need as much field work as possible, and you know Steven's read the book front to back, multiple times. And Jamie's the best in her gymnastics class! It's good practise, dear."

"Okay well first of all, we are well past reading hours. It's time to put the book down, Stevie, and go to bed. Jamie, I'm calling practise off for the night. You should be in bed, too! Not out hunting Santas in silly robes!"

"And Jack Frosts!" Jack said, standing up straight and wobbling. "I'm here too," he pouted, as Santa steadied him.

"Yes, and Jack Frosts, apparently." The woman sighed, exasperated. "So what now, Colin, hmm? What are you going to do with them now?"

"Taking them down to holding."

"You're kidnapping them?"

"Yes!"

"And then what, Colin?!"

"What do you mean, then what? I've captured Santa!"

"And Jack Frost!"

"Oh my god, yes, you too, we know, we get it, we heard you the first twenty times!"

"It's only been like five times," Jack said, scratching his arms. "I haven't been counting, have you, Santa?"

"I think maybe you should stop talking Jack," Santa whispered.

"I think you should stop talking, Jack," the sprite mocked back, sticking out his tongue and switching arms.

Eve turned away from the Legends, glaring at Colin. "Well?"

"Like I said, we're going to use Frost to get our hands public enemy number one. And once we get our hands on that one, I imagine the barrister won't be far behind. Maybe Santa could point us in the right direction. The possibilities are endless, Eve! So, down to holding with these two for now, and then we'll interrogate. If they don't talk, well." He turned to glance at the pair of Legends. "We have ways of making you do so."

Santa and Jack shared a slightly concerned look; Eve exhaled, complete with a double face palm as she rubbed the sides of her head.

"Gentlemen! We have some prep to do! Grab the tools from upstairs, and prepare the chambers. I expect this won't be easy. Make sure to make the fire extra hot, please! Uncomfortably so, even."

Half of the men nodded and headed upstairs, their footfalls disappearing towards the left of the house once they hit the landing.

"Mike, Jerry, you'll help me escort these two downstairs. Keep the bows on you. I don't trust the cold one as far as I can throw him."

"Well, that's rude," Jack said with a huff. "I'm not that heavy. Especially not compared to old fat man over here, I mean look at him!"

"I can and will drop you," Santa threatened.

"Shut it," the man snapped, glaring at the legends. He cleared his throat. "Kids! You're with me. This is history in the making! Not a single Clifton has managed to catch Santa yet. Not until now!"

"You are not taking the kids downstairs with you," Eve said.

"Yes, I am. End of discussion," Colin said loudly, with an air of finality.

"If you think I'm just going to let you—" A cry rang out from the living room. Eve's face fell, the anger washed away as the baby began to wail. She glanced over at the baby, then back at Colin and the kids.

"You take care of the baby. I'll make sure these two get to sleep, as soon as we finish our first interrogation. I know how you feel about our tools, so I'll call it for them there," he said nonchalantly, opening the basement door and gesturing the group forward. "As for me, well. I can go all night," he said, grinning once more. "Can you two?"

And with that, the two men left seized Santa and Jack, shoving them downstairs, the leader gesturing the kids forward as he stepped down behind them. The door began to close, the last shaft of light settling on Eve's heartbroken face for the briefest of moments before it slammed shut, leaving them in darkness.

---

It wasn't long before Adria arrived. She practically flew up the stairs, nearly crashing into Charlie as she ran into the watchtower.

"Ah! Sorry, Charlie! Hi everyone, hi guys!" she rushed over to central command, hands full of papers that went flying as she ran, a quill tucked behind her ear. A bag was slung over her shoulder, filled to the brim with different vials of colourful liquids and some sort of round thing on a square base. She came to a stop in front of the two head elves, grabbing a couple of papers that had floated out of her arms. "You wanted to see me?" she said with a grin, as Elle telepathically passed her the rest of the papers that she had lost on the way over.

"Did Curtis brief you?"

"Did he EVER! Old magic? What the heck is happening?"

"ELFS requested your help directly."

"They DID?!"

Bernard nodded. "The sleigh crashed on route through North America. It's landed fine, but Santa's missing. So are the reindeer, and Frost, who was with Santa when the sleigh went down. He's probably the only reason they made it down safely at all."

"So the storm didn't knock them down?"

"No. Something else did. Something magical. They found bolts with a sooty residue. Jack suspected glyphs, or sigils—"

"Glyphs? Sigils?" If stars could literally be in someone's eyes, they'd have been in Adria's. "That's ANCIENT stuff! This is even more exciting than the potions! And super illegal! Sorry, sorry. Continue," she said, realizing she had interrupted. She brushed hair out of her face and stood down, waiting for the rest of the briefing.

"It's alright," Bernard said, with a reassuring smile. He cleared his throat. "Jack suspected pre-call magic, but before we could get any more information, they were ambushed, and we lost all contact with them."

"All?" Adria asked, glancing back at Jacqueline.

"All," the sprite said with a sigh.

"ELFS is on scene right now, and they suspect some kind of trap was activated. They didn't sound very good over the com, so I'm sending you out with the Legates to help the ELFS crew with magical clean up. You have some time to grab what you need—"

"No need! I got it all here!" she said, patting her bag. "I just have to adjust the settings on my trap gadget," she said, grabbing the orb on a box, "and we're set! I should be able to disperse any unwelcome magic once we get there! I programmed it with all sorts of magical traps of old! Like, really old. Like, even pre-call traps. It's ready for ANYTHING," she said with a wild grin.

"Oh, good," Bernard said. "It could be literally anything so we're in good shape. Charlie, Jacqueline."

"Yes sir!" Charlie said, excited. Jacqueline rolled her eyes, making sure to hide her smile from her fellow Legate.

"Love the enthusiasm," Elle said over Bernard's shoulder with a grin. He smiled.

"I'm just excited. First Legate mission!"

"Oh boy," Jacqueline said.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing! I'm glad you're excited! And that I'll be the one you're working with," she replied, reassuring herself.

"We have something to give you, before you head out for baby's first mission," Elle said, reaching under the central control panel.

"This is for you, Charlie," Bernard said, as Elle brought a small brown sack out from under the table.

"For me?" Charlie asked, taking the bag. The moment it touched his hands, the bag shimmered. There was a slight ringing, and a bright light, and it slowly morphed into a small brown backpack.

"Is that my own bag? Like, like Dad's bag of toys?"

"That's exactly what it is," Elle said with a grin, as Bernard passed it over.

"Oh, sweet!" Charlie said, taking the bag and grinning like a child on Christmas morning, fittingly enough. "This is so COOL!" he said, lifting the bag up. "Anything I need?"

"Yep," Bernard said. "Anything. Give it a try."

"Okay. Let's see," he looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll need my hat," Charlie finally said, reaching into the bag. It seemed endless, when he stuck his hand in. He felt around, his arm going deeper and deeper into the bag until he felt the familiar worn cotton of his red toque. He pulled it out with a triumphant flourish. "Wow! This is awesome! Thanks guys."

"That's deep," Jacqueline said, frowning over his shoulder into the depths of the bag.

"Do you need anything?"

"Nah. I've got my jacket," Jacqueline replied, dropping her hand. There was a little poof of light blue sparks, her matching pea coat appearing in her hand. "And my hat's in here somewhere," she added, pulling the sleeves over her arms. Sure enough, the hat popped right out of the left arm. Jacqueline rammed it on her head, the ball on the top bouncing and the braids on the ear flaps swinging. "I'm set!"

"You'll also want one of these," Bernard added, giving Charlie what looked to be a wireless earbud. "It's a direct line to HQ. Just tap it once to open the line, and twice to close it. And one for you, Adria."

"Ah! This is so cool!" she said, grabbing the other one from Bernard.

"And Jacqueline, if you'd like."

"I'm good," Jacqueline said, eyeballing Adria. "If I need to add anything I'll drop Elle a line."

"Alright, we've wasted enough time here," Bernard said. "Get over there, and do what you guys do best."

"Save our dumb of butt legendary figures from yet another zany situation. Roger that!" Jacqueline said with a mock salute. And before Charlie or Adria could even think of a reply, she laid her hands on each of their shoulders and the trio disappeared in a flurry of snowflakes and blue sparks.

---

"GET DOWN GET DOWN!"

The shout came moments before the trio could fully rematerialize. They hit the ground with a slight bounce, and immediately both Adria and Jacqueline fell to their knees. Charlie jumped back, stunned as he watched the two fae he had arrived with writhe about.

"Jacqueline? Adria? What's going on?"

"Old magic, old magic!" Adria managed to shout.

"Anti-fae," Jacqueline managed to grit out, trying very hard to stand back up.

"JUST GET FLAT ON YOUR BELLIES," came another shout. Charlie watched as Mackenzie army crawled on hers towards them. "You need to get under it!"

"What is it?" Charlie asked, confused.

"Anti-magic forcefield! We went to investigate the sleigh and something triggered it!" She looked sweaty.

"Flat we go then," Charlie said. He lunged forward, forcing himself to fall down with his hands out. One landed on Jacqueline's back, the other on Adria's; his momentum managed to push the two of them down all the way, the three of them landing in the snow with a thwomp, papers flying and snow billowing.

The change was instantaneous. Both sprite and elf lost the tension they had been holding, looking relieved. Adria immediately started to rummage around her pack. Jacqueline took a deep breath before rolling over, looking up at the sky.

"Stupid storm," she said, lifting her arms palm up, as though she were pushing someone off of her. That someone was the storm, apparently. The moment her arms shot up, the snow pelting down shot upwards, a stiff wind blowing the flakes up and out. She hissed, bringing her elbows down to the ground. "That forcefield is short. Ouchie."

"Tailor made for elves, we think," Mackenzie said.

"I think I've got it!" Adria said. The trap gadget was in her hand. She twirled it around like a Rubik's cube, the whizz of dials being turned and the clicking of many little buttons getting lost with the whoosh of the wind. Finally, the orb turned a deep shade of pink that seemed to satisfy the magic expert. "Got it! We just need to place it on the spawn point."

"Spawn point?"

"Yeah, like, where the trap was triggered."

"By the sleigh," Mackenzie said, gesturing towards it behind her.

"Cool. Also, we can't let the orb touch the barrier before it gets to the spawn point."

"Why not?" Charlie asked.

"Uh. Could explode," Adria admitted.

"Seriously?" Jacqueline exclaimed.

"It's a slight possibility!"

"It'll take some time, but I can crawl it over," Mackenzie suggested.

"We don't have time," Jacqueline said, rolling back around and facing the group on her stomach. "Charlie. You were able to stand when we landed."

"Yeah. Yeah! I was! I'm on it," he said.

Gently taking the trap gadget from Adria, he stood up, keeping the orb well below his hips. Hunched over, he sprinted towards the sleigh, stopping just a foot away from the step up.

"What am I looking for?!"

"Soot!"

"Soot," Charlie said, eyes searching the snow. "Soot, soot, soot—soot!"

Almost hidden by the shadow of the step up was a perfect sooty circle. Charlie held the trap gadget over the circle, moving it a bit to the left, then to the right, until finally, it pinged. He slammed the base of the orb into the snow, and stepped back.

The circle began to glow the same colour as the trap gadget. There was a whir, going faster and faster until he could no longer hear it; then the sound of something powering down. Both the circle and the cube stopped glowing, until suddenly...TWANG!

The ground inside the circle turned that deep pink-ish colour, and a beam of light shot out, stopping just past Charlie's waist. From there, it spread across the clearing, the entire place lit up in a purple glow. The orb clicked; it cracked open, the pink fog hovering above it.

There was a sucking sound as the purple glow surrounding the clearing pulled back, back, back, until it was all swirling above the trap gadget. Then, fast enough to warrant a zip, the cube seemed to inhale the magic, the purple glow receding into the clouds and being sucked right back into the orb.

The clearing shimmered for a brief moment, until pop! The enchantment still left sparkling in the air dimmed until it dissipated entirely.

The entire space seemed to sigh. Slowly, the elves started to get up, stretching their backs. Charlie waited for the orb to click shut before he rushed back, just in time to help Jacqueline up.

"Thanks," she said, rubbing the side of her head. She inhaled sharply. "I. Hate. Old magic. Ugh, this is just like London all over again. Hundred percent, this has Clifton written all over it."

"I'll report back to Bernard!" Adria shouted, already halfway to her trap gadget. A trail of paper bits and colourful dust and things flew out behind her. A couple of the other ELFS grabbed what they could as she rushed by them, sticking the bits and bobs into their own bags.

"Nice job, Charlie," Jacqueline said with a smirk as she stretched her lower back.

"Thanks!" he replied. "C'mon, let's scout the scene."

"HQ, this is Adria checking in! DO YOU COPY!"

Charlie winced as he headed over to the sleigh, looking around to see if he could figure out what had happened.

"Loud and clear, Adria. You don't need to shout," Bernard's voice came through over the earbuds.

"Right! Sorry! We've arrived at the scene! Anti-fae forcefield was preventing us from doing anything! I've neutralized the threat."

Charlie tapped his earbud, climbing into the sleigh. "We're checking out the scene now! Sleigh is in good condition, but it's missing it's shine."

"Check the magic levels," Bernard replied. "I think we were onto something with the magic being taken away. Especially with a forcefield like that being left behind."

"On it!" Charlie replied, standing in the sleigh and eyeing up the dash.

Jacqueline, meanwhile, had her eyes trained to the ground, marching from snow pile to snow pile. They were most definitely sprite made. The swirls were not naturally occurring; they resembled fight patterns she had learned early on as a young sprite.

"Patterns!" she realized, snapping her fingers. "Gotta find it," she said out loud to nobody in particular as she knelt in the snow. The cold barely registered on her knees as she poked and prodded one of the piles, looking for the familiar sleek, elegantly jagged lines that branched out from a flake in the centre in the colder parts of the little heaps of snow.

"We identified the tracks," Mackenzie began, stopping by the sleigh and pointing behind it. Charlie looked over; in the snow, he could see the thin lines the rails would have left once the sleigh hit the ground. "They came careening through the trees but had a gentle decent—if a little fast. Toby was checking the sleigh when he triggered the trap," she said, glancing at the elf beside her.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was trying to see the magic levels on the sleigh. I should've checked the perimeter first."

"It's alright," Mackenzie said. "The snow formations don't look natural, but we couldn't confirm they were sprite made. We also had no indication that the area had been left trapped, so we didn't think to inspect the snow to find out if it was natural or not. But since there was a trap, I think it's safe to assume that we're dealing with people here who know exactly what they're doing."

"They do," Jacqueline said, joining the group by the sleigh. "And those snow drifts are sprite made. By Jack," Jacqueline confirmed with a frown.

"The magic levels are low," Charlie said, hopping down from the sleigh. "Jack said something about soot under the sleigh, right?"

Jacqueline nodded.

"I need to get under there," Charlie said, rummaging around his bag. He pulled out a microfiber cloth that seemed to sparkle a bit.

"I wouldn't recommend going under," Jacqueline said. She squatted in the snow and squinted, looking below the sleigh. "I don't think there's any more traps, but we may want to put the sleigh on its side to do this safely."

"Squad A, Squad B, flank up!" Mackenzie said into her radio. The ELFS groups that were by the treeline joined the group by the sleigh. "We need to place the sleigh on its side, gently. Grab a side; if you need to lift, lift with your knees, not your back. On my count!"

Quickly, the elves grabbed the left side of the sleigh. Charlie stationed himself by the step, just in case any other fae traps were floating around. Maybe he could give them a bit of a warning before the next one.

"Ready everyone? Three," Mackenzie began, everyone bracing. "Two," she said, as Jacqueline stood ready on the other side of the sleigh, hands glowing. "One."

"Lift!" Charlie shouted, as the elves on either side of him all pushed up. The sleigh lifted, slowly, slowly tipping to the side until the undercarriage was revealed. Charlie grabbed the edge as it slowly made its way up, helping to lift it as carefully as possible.

Jacqueline lifted her palms, a thick column of packing snow sprouting up from the ground. It settled along the sleigh. Holding the magic steady with her left palm, she waved the right one back and forth. The snow followed her command easily, a ramp slowly forming. She kept going until the sleigh was able to stand on its own, happily leaning against the snowy ramp.

"You can let go now," she said, the ELFS sighing in relief.

"Holy shit," Charlie said, looking at the bottom of the sleigh. The ELFS crowded around him, gasping.

The entire undercarriage was COVERED in pock marks and soot. The soot cackled with colour every so often; purple arcs travelling from smudge to smudge. Some of them had some kind of projectiles lodged in. Wrapping the cloth around his hand, Charlie gently pried one free.

The soot fell off of the sleigh, the purple arcing one last time before disappearing. Charlie was left with a tiny dart between the cloth on his forefinger and thumb.

"Sigils," Jacqueline confirmed. "I haven't seen ones like these in centuries."

"Since Clifton?"

Jacqueline nodded. "Same colour and everything."

"REAL, LIVE, SIGILS?" Adria yelled, grinning manically and scaring the snow out of the elves she popped up between.

Charlie pulled the earbud out of his ear, feedback screaming into the night.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes, gently double tapping the earbud in Adria's ear. "As real as they get," she said.

"Alright, let's clean this mess up and see if we can get the sleigh going," Charlie said, pulling a few more of the magic cloths out of his bag. "Don't touch the darts or the soot directly. Use the cloths! And when we're done," he said, rummaging in the bag again. "We'll put them in here," he said, pulling a plastic canister out of his new bag.

"Damn. That is one heck of a bag," Jacqueline said, looking at the details on the tube. It was yellow with a picture of a sparkly dart on it. In front of the image was a large circle with a line through it—it was a proper, waste disposal container, specifically for the sigil encrusted darts.

"It's so freaking cool," Charlie said with a grin as he and two other elves got to work on cleaning off the soot. Adria slunk around Jacqueline, standing at Charlie's side with a grin and three empty test tubes. He looked at the beaming elf and, with a small smile, gently placed the darts in the vials, making sure to include some soot.

As the elves worked on the sleigh, Jacqueline looked around, trying to piece together what had happened. The longer she looked, the more she could see Jack's frost all over the place. She counted about seven spots where the swirls mingled together. Almost as though Jack had shoved a bunch of people back. Most of the action seemed to have taken place to the right of the sleigh—no, left, Jacqueline realized, as she turned to face the sleigh. Something crunched under her foot. She looked down and gasped.

A sudden magical whir interrupted CSI: Jacqueline. Quickly picking up the item she had stepped on, she stepped back as the sleigh powered up. It floated up, still on its side, gently correcting as it hovered a couple of meters off the ground. It came back down with a plonk, a wave of Christmas magic whooshing around it.

"And magic has been restored to the sleigh!" Charlie said, high fiving the elves around him as they cheered.

"Alright troops, we'll have time to celebrate later. Fan out! Squad A, head east. Squad B, head west. Let's locate the reindeer and get this sleigh ready to go!"

With nods, the two groups headed in opposite directions, pulling down their googles and jumping into the air. Jetpacks on low, they cruised through the trees, disappearing. Mackenzie turned to the Legates. "I'll stay here with Toby and Adria. We'll get the sleigh ready for launch. Check this out," she said, walking around to the front of the sleigh.

In front of them were tracks. They lead down into the forest, disappearing into the treeline. Snow was filling them in fast, but they were still fairly visible. "Whoever took Santa and Jack, they had a lot of people with them, and headed that way into the trees. I don't know how much longer the tracks will stay, so you two better get moving."

"I've got it," Jacqueline said. Squatting in the snow again, she placed her hands flat below where the tracks started. She focused on the snow below her, hands glowing bright blue. With a smack, she hit the ground.

The snow responded to her effortlessly. The tracks lit up below them, stretching down and out into the wilderness. Jacqueline balled up her hands, squeezing them tight. There was a snap; a deep cracking sound echoed throughout the clearing. The light blue trail went out, but frozen in front of them with a slight shimmer were several sets of footsteps.

"What was that?" Charlie asked, intrigued.

"I froze the tracks to buy us more time."

"You can do that?" Charlie asked, as excited as Adria. "That is so cool!"

"Thank you! I invented cool," Jacqueline said with a smirk. "Charlie and I will follow the tracks. The storm should be passing soon enough; the little snow globe effect I cast in the clearing should last a solid half hour. Sorry it isn't longer, it's still a little hard for me to do, especially after preserving these tracks," she said, fiddling with the braids on the ear flaps of her hat.

"Honestly, don't worry about it! Anything helps. We'll keep in contact with HQ," Mackenzie said, playing with the display on her wrist. "If you guys need anything and can't open a line to us, just let HQ know."

"You got it, Captain," Charlie said. "Are you guys all set here? Do you have everything you need?"

"Ou, itching to use the backpack again, huh?"

"Oh come on, Jacquie, weren't you excited when you discovered you had powers?"

"Discovered?" Jacqueline couldn't help but snort. "Baby I was born this way. They're a part of me, not a new toy I suddenly got when I turned two hundred."

"We're good here," Mackenzie said, bringing her wrist up to her mouth. "HQ, this is Mackenzie reporting in! Sleigh is operational and squads have been sent out to find the sleigh team. The Legates are on their way to find the Legends."

Charlie and Jacqueline watched as Mackenzie walked back to the crash site, chatting very fast into her communications band. They both turned, looking out at the tracks in the distance.

"Ready to go save some legendary butts?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Charlie said, exhaling. "You okay? You're not as Jacqueline as usual."

"We'll talk on the way," Jacqueline replied, her lips a tight line. She grabbed Charlie's hands, placing something cool and soft on them. "I think we're up against some pretty messed up dudes."

Charlie looked down. It was his dad's hat. He grabbed it with both hands. I hope you're okay, Dad, he thought, wondering if his dad would hear it. He shoved the hat in the pocket of his jacket.

"Let's go kick some messed up asses," he said, fist out.

"Hell yeah," Jacqueline agreed, fist bumping Charlie.

Blowing it up with a grin, the two Legates slid down the slope, following the tracks and hoping it would lead them to their Legendary counterparts.

---

Santa had expected a dark, dank, dungeon. What he got was, well, not quite a dark, dank, dungeon, but also not not a dark, dank, dungeon.

His footsteps were muffled and squishy as the group headed down the carpeted stairs. There was a small landing, then (one two three) four more steps until the basement floor. Someone behind them clapped twice, throwing them into the light.

Santa blinked until he adjusted to the sudden glow. The walls, baseboards, and carpet were all different shades of cream, making the space very, very bright. The group stood in a wide hallway; it led into the main portion of the basement, which looked to be a large, multimedia centre from what Santa could glean.

The door to the other room slammed shut before Santa could really take it in. The little girl glanced back at him, flushing.

"The lights, Jamie?" Colin said.

"Right! Sorry," she said, hitting the light switch beside the now shut door.

Now swathed in light, Santa could see that in front of them stood three rooms. They were almost normal. Almost. Had you walked into the house and gone downstairs, not knowing what your pal Colin was really doing, you'd have thought they were storage rooms that were perhaps missing a few finishing touches. Like, oh, a fourth wall and a proper door.

But if you stopped to look, like really look, at the rooms, you'd start to wonder what the heck your pal Colin was on, and maybe where you could get some of it.

Within the rooms there was a lamp lit on the wall, burning steadily in the carpeted spaces. Benches lined the edges; on the ones up against the walls sat a blanket and a pillow. The back bench was empty. They were some pretty wack storage rooms, when you looked; to really maximize the space, you could use a lot more shelves—and, you know, a wall at the front of the rooms, complete with doors!

But the kicker, that would really tip you off that hey, something is very wrong with this place, blended in so well with the edges where the front walls should be, that they were hardly noticeable. Inside the wall, similar to most stores, was a sort of hutch. One of the men that had come down with them popped off the latch and pushed the cover aside, revealing the secret space hidden within.

He tugged at something, and with a metallic click, pulled out a security gate made entirely of metal bars. That's when it clicked.

"I'm sorry, you have a dungeon in your basement?"

"You took the words right outta my mouth, Jack."

"And cream? Really? Everything? What a nightmare," the sprite continued, scratching his cheek.

"Well, where else would you expect us to keep the game from our yearly hunts? Guest bedroom?"

"Game? Oof. That's. That's as bad as the cream carpets," Jack said with a sharp inhale.

"It's apt. We are hunters and you are the hunted, are you not?"

"Kidnapped and hunted are two very different things—" Jack began.

"A-a-a that's enough, Jack. We don't want to become hunted," Santa said with a grimace.

"Indeed," Colin replied lips pursed. "Now then, if you wouldn't mind just, getting into holding," he said, shooing them towards the room, "that'd be great."

"Actually, we would mind," Santa said. "See, we've got a busy night; I've got gifts to deliver and Jack's got a storm to fight."

"Sorry, wait a sec," Jack said, frowning. "Can we just, circle back for a moment here, I just—did you say yearly hunt?"

"For the last twenty years, the members of the Clifton Society have gathered here on Christmas Eve for the hunt. We gear up and set out, watching the skies and waiting, to catch the man responsible for ruining our founder: Santa Claus."

"Yearly?" Jack repeated. "Even I wasn't that dedicated to the cause when I was trying to overthrow you," Jack whispered to Santa with a giggle, elbowing the man. Santa rolled his eyes and swatted Jack's elbow away gently.

"Yes, every year. And every year, he eludes us! But we have made great strides in the last decade. We advanced our techniques. We found the flight path! And we have done everything in our power to make it a rough ride for you, Claus."

"Wait, that was you guys? I always thought there was just a lot of turbulence in this area!"

"I mean, you're not wrong," Jack said with a shrug. "It does get pretty turbulent over here. High winds." He was standing still, finally. He looked drained. His normally flushed cheeks were white as snow; in fact, if Santa didn't know better, he'd have said that the man was frozen solid once again!

"You really don't look so good, Jack."

"And he's only going to get worse," Colin said with a grin. "Tell me, Santa, do you know much about your friend's physiology?"

"I assume he's made of snow, mostly."

"Excuse you! There's ice! And frost! And maybe a bit of fire? I'm actually not quite sure how that works I mean, look at me, I'm full winter sprite!" Jack said, gesturing to all of him. "Then I think of my Dad, though, and y'know, he's got the whole fire thing going on—"

"Do we have duct tape?" Colin asked the two hooded men that had brought Santa and Jack downstairs. They turned and stared at one another; one shrugged, the other shook his head, no. "A pity. I'm getting really tired of this one running his mouth."

"You know what would help with that?" Jack said, scratching his forearm. "If you took these BRACELETS OFF!"

"Oh, this one's clever," Colin said with a smirk. "No, I don't think I will. Let me explain something to the two of you," Colin said, pacing until he was directly in front of Santa. He turned, smirking at the man. "Your friend here is a fae creature. They've existed for years, wreaking havoc and stealing children, spreading dissent among us humans. But we grew wise to their ways; we learnt their weaknesses."

"Weaknesses shmeaknesses," Jack snapped. "You should toss your textbooks. This stuff is outdated! Horseshoes? I mean, really."

Colin turned, tilting his head a bit too creepily for either Legendary figure's liking, smirking directly at Jack now. "Oh, we know. Why do you think those cuffs are so effective? It was said back in the day that iron made them weak," he spat, angry. "But that was never true, we discovered. They lived just like us, we learnt, and iron didn't do anything. The founders were taunted relentlessly for their outdated methods; of course, we kept researching, experimenting, and then we discovered the alloy."

"Alloy?" Santa asked.

"The purest of iron, combined with the magic from our sigils. We refine the stuff, stick it in iron—or any compound, really—and voila!" Colin said with a grin, presenting Jack. "Weaken the fae, stop their magic, capture them easy as can be. Now you see, Santa, those cuffs on your friend aren't the only things we have that are infused with our anti-magic, oh no. We have all sorts of odds and ends that we can and will use to make you two talk."

"I don't know what else you want from us," Santa said, carefully. "I mean, you've already tossed the sleigh out of the sky, the reindeer are loose and god only knows WHERE they've gotten to! You've captured us, you've made the great and powerful Jack Frost—"

"Aww, you really think that of lil' old me, Santa?"

"—completely powerless! And, not to mention, he won't STOP talking. And even with his huge blabber mouth—"

"Don't be rude, Santa. I'm under anti-magic influence," Jack defended with a pout.

"There's still something you want, that's making you keep us trapped here. What is it!?"

"Everything," Colin said, his voice heavy with malice. "I want everything. And that includes your accomplices."

"My what now?"

"Do you mean the little yes-men? And women? And they thems?"

"I can assure you, Mr. Frost, that these two were not little."

Colin frowned, turning with a snap of his robes towards a desk that stood across from the cells. The kids had taken up residence on it; Jamie sat on it by the lamp, legs swinging. Steven sat on the floor, hunched over the book he had been carrying, scrawling away. Colin rounded the side of the desk, opening up a drawer. He pulled out a small, square item, closing the drawer and making his way back to the pair of Legends.

"This miniature has been handed down from Clifton to Clifton throughout the centuries. It belonged to my great, great, great and such aunt, Beatrice. Take a look at it, would you?" Colin finished, revealing the tiny portrait to the pair of Legends.

A woman sat on a chair. Behind her was someone who looked very familiar to Santa—another Santa. Beard was longer, hair was thinner, but it was unmistakable. On either side of the woman in the chair stood a young boy and girl. Behind the chair, opposite this Santa, was a young lady. They were a lovely family, but they weren't what caused the sharp intake of breath from Jack, or the look of dread that slowly began to set in on Scott's face. No.

It was the two figures standing beside one another, a little farther from the girl by the seat, but not so far that the portrait looked awkward, that warranted this reaction. Though both their faces looked a little rounder, and the young woman's hair was brown, the only difference from then and now was how obviously they both seemed to be toying the line between "teenager" and "young adult" by today's standards.

And, of course, the beret.

There was no denying it; beside this Claus family from the eighteenth century stood Jacqueline and Bernard.

"Ah. I thought you may recognize these two," Colin said with a grin. "Care to share?"

"I'm no snitch," Jack sniffed.

"We'll see about that," Colin said with a creepy grin. "Like I said. We have ways of making you talk."

"I don't know anything about this!" Santa protested, gesturing to the mini.

"Oh, please. You know one of them; maybe both. Your face is proof enough! I'll tell you what, Santa," the man said, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. "You tell us about the boy, and maybe I won't make your friend here feel far, far worse than he looks right now."

"And I'll tell you what," Santa said, grabbing the man's arm and yanking him even closer. "You stop asking questions we won't give you the answers to, and maybe my friend and I here won't make you look far, far worse than you already do."

"Ha! That's a good one, Mr. Claus! Your friend is as good as mortal right now, and you? You expect me to think that Santa would beat somebody up?"

Santa glowered at him.

"Ou," said Jack. "That's his I'm this close face," he said with a gleeful grin.

"I'd listen to him, if I were you," Santa said, gesturing at Jack with his head. "He's seen it before."

"SO many times," Jack added.

Colin stepped back, glaring at Santa. He glanced over at Jack; the sprite hissed. Both hooded men and Colin stepped back a bit more, fearful. Colin recovered quickly; he looked at his companions on either side, glaring at them.

"Well don't just STAND there! Seal them in!"

And with that, Santa and Jack were shoved rather rudely into the middle most room. Santa nearly lost his balance; good thing he caught himself, because Jack did lose his balance, and nearly fell flat on the carpet had Santa not grabbed him just in time.

Metal screeched on metal as the hooded guys dragged the bars out of the walls, the two sides meeting halfway with a smack. There was a click, and just like that Santa Claus and Jack Frost were, officially, trapped.

"Blankets are right there! The heat's on, of course, but basements are known for getting chilly and these older homes can be quite drafty. I'll be right back. Hastings, Smitty, you're with me. Kids, keep an eye on these two. No funny business!"

And just like that, Santa and Jack were left in the not quite a dungeon dungeon, their only company two very sleepy looking children.

---

The Legates walked on in silence, the tracks sparkling as they made their way towards whatever awaited them on the other side.

Jacqueline was silent, for the most part; her brow was furrowed. Charlie had never seen her like this before, and he wasn't sure he wanted to pry—or where to even start. Or if he even should. Maybe she'd talk on her own? The silence wasn't uncomfortable, Charlie thought. It was just...worrisome.

He caved.

"You doing okay?"

"Hmm?" she looked over at him, blankly before she registered what he had said. "Oh! I'm okay presently," she said with a frown. The snow crunched beneath them; the trail was slippery, but Jacqueline was a pro at not falling on ice and Charlie had learnt from the best.

"Sorry if the story earlier like, messed with your brain."

Jacqueline chuckled. "Nah. Not really. It's like that for most fae when we try to think back to AGES ago. My memory only goes back so far, like I was saying."

"Right. Two hundred years."

"Right. Farther than that and I really have to think, especially with specifics like today."

"Clifton."

"Yeah. Beatrice was very lovely; she was kind to everyone, didn't really lord her status over people. Probably because she married into it. Her kids were sweethearts too. But teaching them was a pain in the ass."

"You taught them?"

"The one and only time I've ever been a governess, albeit in magical matters. Never again. It was exhausting," she said, rolling her eyes. "Though that was probably because I was working like, three jobs at the time."

"Three?"

"Yeah. There was my usual job—Legate stuff. Then there was the governess thing. And then I found myself, after the Clifton Manor incident, spending most nights thwarting cultists."

"Cultists?"

"That's the best I can describe them," Jacqueline admitted. "When Bernard and I yoinked the deed from James—that was the brother's name—he got his ass handed to him in court. By Bernard."

"I would've loved to see that," Charlie said.

"It was EVERYTHING," Jacqueline said, her face very animated. "He had the case wrapped up within the first hour. James was scrounging. Oh my god, you should've seen his face when he accused me of having my ears, and I pushed back my hair to reveal HUMAN ears! It was hilARious," she finished with a grin.

"How was he not like, thrown into an asylum somewhere?"

"His brother, Santa Stephen, felt bad for him. He was only like this because Stephen had become Santa, and still managed their extensive properties and business stuff, resulting in him becoming Lord Clifton when their dad passed. He had everything when he already had everything, according to James; and James, he had nothing. Which was mostly his own fault. Sure, he was the younger son, but usually they'd be tasked with something. Unfortunately for James, he had a severe issue with keeping money in his purse."

"That combined with not being the eldest..."

"Exactly. So, Lord Clifton cut him a deal. He gave his brother one of their properties to keep, staff for it, as well as a very generous monthly allowance. All he had to do was leave this fairy nonsense well enough alone and never bother his wife or kids again. James would've been a fool to not take it. Unfortunately, there was a third thing that Lord Clifton gave his brother: a thirst for vengeance."

"Of course."

"Yep! So, he moves to the Lodge, then founds a society of like-minded young men with one purpose and one purpose only: hunt down Santa Claus and all other magical beings, and end them."

"Holy shit."

Jacqueline nodded. "Charlie, the shit I had to deal with for the next two decades was insane. And actually, genuinely, dangerous. Magibeans were easier to find back in the day; we aren't as easy to find anymore because of all the misuse of magic. The twentieth century had a lot of relocating and reinstating of secretive settlements, in terms of magical history. But this was the eighteenth century. And James...he knew many men who were slighted by society, who had less than reputable connections, that were, well, magical."

"So, all the stuff out there, back at the crash site. You've seen it all before?"

Jacqueline nodded. "But it's newer. And stronger. And effective. That fae trap, whatever it was, that was bad. Had we been caught in it for too long... I don't want to think about what it would do to us magibeans. They've shut off my connection to Jack. A Legend-Legate connection, Charlie. Outside forces can't shut that shit off. But somehow...these guys have."

The wind whipped about; Jacqueline waved her hand, and the storm whipped around them.

"Sorry, I should've done that ages ago."

"Don't be, Jacqueline. You've got a lot on your mind right now."

"No kidding. Look at the tracks," she said, pointing down at the footsteps in the snow. "See this fancy looking shoe?" Charlie nodded. "Those are Jack's. He wasn't walking straight. Whatever they did to him has him all wobbly, look, see here?" she said, pointing down at the top of one of Jack's tracks. The edges were sort of messy. "Someone's dragging him. Or helping him along, but he's dragging his feet."

Charlie glanced down at the tracks beside Jack's. It was a boot print; it was slightly different from the other ones surrounding them. He gasped. "Oh! That's my Dad's footprint!"

"He must have been helping Jack stay steady." Jacqueline inhaled. "These guys are bad news, Charlie. That's why I've been so quiet. They're a very real magical threat. One that was disbanded years ago. We made sure of it."

"Well, listen. I don't know what they did to your brother, but maybe they haven't done it to my Dad. I mean, he's a magihuman, right?" Jacqueline nodded. "So they wouldn't use the same tricks on him that they would on Jack. Like that forcefield, it worked on you but not on me. So probably, it'd be the same for Dad and Jack. Right?"

She nodded again.

"Okay, great! So maybe I can reach him through the connection we have? Our Legend-Legate connection?"

"That's not a bad idea. But I thought you guys were having trouble figuring it out?"

"Sort of. How does it work? Like, how do you find yours and Jack's?"

"In the mindscape, of course," Jacqueline said. "Everyone has one. Magical people are just able to visualize it, influence it, enter it, that sort of thing. Well, some of us."

"How does it look?"

"It looks however you picture it. Like, mine kind of looks like the ballroom at my family home. Except made entirely of ice that sparkles everywhere you look! It's sort of foggy, but most mind foyers are. There are areas that lead to different parts of the mind—you know, like your hall of memories, your conscious mind, subconscious mind, unconscious mind, inner child...but in that sort of foyer space there's these threads! And they're my magical mental connections. That's how I picture them. As threads. It's a common one for obvious reasons."

"So basically, I just have to kind of picture what the inside of my brain looks like, find a colourful thread, and yolo?"

"Yeah, basically!"

"Huh. Simple enough," Charlie murmured, looking down at the tracks. "Oh. That's weird."

"What is?"

"Check these out," Charlie said, squatting down and pointing. "Do these look tiny to you?"

Jacqueline squatted now, too, looking down at the smaller tracks. They were boots, as well; but unlike the plain treads of the other prints, these ones looked funkier. Squiggles and zigzags and flowers—that sort of thing.

"Those are children's shoes," Jacqueline realized, wincing.

"Kids are involved in all of this?" Charlie exclaimed.

"Apparently," Jacqueline said, standing up. "That's terrible, to involve your children in something like this. That's a sure-fire way to mess them up."

She sped up, Charlie jogging a few paces to catch up. "If there's kids," he asked, "do you think. Can we get them out?"

"I don't know if we can," Jacqueline said, stopping suddenly. "But I think we'll have to try. Looks like we're here, Charlie."

Just down a ledge and a couple of hundred meters in front of them stood a colonial style home. It looked to be about two stories; large pillars swept up either side of the front door, a decent sized porch holding them up. The wooden steps creaked and groaned as the winds pushed into them, the house looming above the two Legates, threateningly.

"Geez," Charlie said. "That's one hell of a cabin."

"Horseshoes."

"Hmm?"

"There're horseshoes above the door." Jacqueline sighed. "I am going to be so itchy. Shall we?"

"Ready when you are," Charlie said, throwing the bag back on his back.

The pair began their descent, the house looming closer and closer as they made their way down into the ditch and across the yard.

---

Jack was laughing.

Santa and Jack were legendnapped, in a literal dungeon, having just been sealed in by a crazy man, and Jack was laughing.

"Did you see that?" Jack said gleefully. "I am absolutely POWERLESS right now and they're STILL terrified! Ah. That's hilarious. Anyway, that went well," Jack finally said, chipper as he sat on one of the benches and promptly slid right off.

"Are you being sarcastic or do you genuinely believe that?" Santa asked, helping Jack up and seating him proper.

"A bit of both, actually," Jack replied. "Look on the bright side, Scott! We're not dead and mounted above his fireplace, so..." he shrugged.

"Yet," Santa snapped at the sprite.

"Ou. Nippy."

Santa sighed, sitting down beside the sprite. He glanced over to the kids. The girl still sat on the desk, though she was slouching now. She was staring them down, a tired curiosity all over her face. Santa stared back. The little boy got up; he placed the large book he had been carrying on the desk, and ran off to the other side of the basement.

Interesting, Santa thought, glancing over at Jack. Then back to the girl. She tilted her head. Santa slid down the bench, very close to Jack.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"Not a clue! But I do know one thing for certain. I didn't do it," Jack said, a little gruffly. He cleared his throat. "Are you finding it hot in here, Santa?" he asked, high pitched now. "It's kinda hot. DO I HAVE A FEVER? I don't get them but DO I?"

"Okay, you need to calm down, Jack, alright?" Santa said, as Jack flailed his arms about looking for sweat. "Just. Chill out!"

Jack brightened, straightening up and looking at Santa gleefully. "I INVENTED chill!"

Santa groaned, closing his eyes tight and rubbing them. "Oh boy. This is going to be a very long night."

Dragging his hands down his face, Santa glanced back over at the kids. Or, well, kid. The boy, Steven, was still in the other room. Loud crashing and rumbling echoed through the hallway. The girl hopped off of the desk, looking down the hall towards the room.

"Jamie," Santa asked. The girl jumped, startled. "Hey, it's okay! I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm Santa Claus."

"Plus the bars," Jack reminded Santa.

"Thanks Jack, for that pleasant reminder." Santa took a deep breath in, turning back to Jamie. "Look, Jamie. I just want to know what's going on with my friend."

"Dad s'plained it already," Jamie said, holding her elbow, nervous.

"Yeah, Santa. That whole. ALLOY thing."

"You know what all that was about?"

"Uh, duh. It's the stupid bracelets. Look, I gotta be real with you, Scotty boy," Jack said, trying very hard to focus. "My head is so filled with fog right now I can't make sense of ANYTHING. Feels like a bad turn in Margaritaville."

"So what, you're drunk? Hungover? Both?!"

"It's the alloy!" The boy said, rushing back into the hall. He gently clicked the door shut behind him, going right up to the cage and looking up at Santa with very big eyes filled with so many questions. So many questions. He had a little book in his hand. It looked far more modern, and was desperately in need of a new binding.

"What's that you got there?" Santa asked.

"Great, now we're appealing to the children," Jack said distastefully.

"Shush," Santa said back. "Sorry about my friend. He's uh, not well."

"I already knew that," the boy said.

"Right. The, uh, alloy. What's it doing to him?"

"Well it's—"

"Steven! Don't tell him!" the girl suddenly snapped, rushing forward and pulling her brother back.

"But he's Santa! And he's right here! And I have so many questions and Dad won't be back down for a bit and—"

"He never comes to us, Stevie!" The girl snapped. She looked devastated. "He never leaves us presents. And we're really good! Honest!" she said with an earnest nod, looking at Santa now. "We're very nice, and very polite. We listen to Mom, and we listen to all of Dad's crazy requests, we get good grades, we're never mean or rude—"

"Woah, woah, hold on a second! Now, I may look very old, but I have a very sharp memory. I come here every year! The two of you are always on the nice list. Always. Last year, Steven, you asked for an art set. You know, watercolours, pencil crayons, the whole shebang. Jamie, you wanted a brand-new bike—ten speed, bright pink, with the little tassels on the ends, so you could race your friends and win in style!"

The kids looked shocked. Well, Jamie did. Steven looked absolutely delighted.

"See? I told you! I told you he knew us and would come!"

"But then why didn't we get our gifts? Not last year, or the year before that, or that—"

"Well, if it were me," Jack said, springing up and casing the hallway. "And I had a centuries old grudge against Santa—"

"Had?" Santa exclaimed.

"Yes Santa, HAD," Jack reiterated, "a centuries old grudge against Santa that meant I had to gaslight my children into thinking Santa didn't come so I could continue with my stupid magic hunting organization, I'd simply take them post-delivery, and stash them somewhere you'd never find, or just get rid of them entirely."

"And he has done that. Multiple times."

Jack snickers. "Countless times! It's a very good way to ruin Santa's day, if you ever feel like joining the fun crowd on the naughty list," Jack said with a glimmer of his usual self, before promptly walking into the bench.

"Ou. That's gonna leave a mark," Santa said, wincing.

"You know," Jack said from the floor, completely non-pulsed. "I once took a buttload of gifts and threw them on the roof just to cause a lil' bit of trouble before launch day," he said, hands resting on his stomach. "And boy did it EVER cause trouble! You should've seen all the munchkins trying to get them down, it was hilarious."

The kids gasped.

"That's so bad!" Jamie said.

"I know. I was DEVIOUS! I've turned over a new leaf since then, of course. No more cursed frozen heart here, no sirree."

"Frozen heart?!" Steven asked, excited. "What does that mean?!"

"It's a sprite thing," Jack began.

"Wait, hold on a sec," the boy said, eagerly. He flipped through his notebook, finding a specific page and clicking his pen. "Okay, now go."

"So that book's kinda like a magical field guide, huh?" Santa asked, pointing to Steven's book.

"Oh! It's." he glanced over at his sister. "Should I tell him?"

Jamie looked thoughtful for a moment. She yawned, then spoke up. "I think we can trust them," she said, carefully. "Go crazy, dweebus."

Steven squealed, then sat down on his butt, scooting forward a bit. "Yes! I think it is! Okay, so, don't tell my Dad, but Mister Frost is right. All of the stuff in the family tone is really old and REALLY wrong."

"Tome," Jack corrected.

"That's what I said! Tone!"

"TOME," Jack said again, sitting up as best as he could. "You're saying it with an N, but it's an M."

"Oh! Okay! So, all the stuff in the family TOME—" he emphasized, glancing at Jack who nodded approvingly while scratching his elbow, "is wrong and old. The family stuff is mostly accurate. But the stuff about you guys? Is very wrong. I started fixing it, but Dad got mad, so…I made my own book," he said, presenting it to them.

"May I see it?" Santa asked.

Steven looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "But be careful! It's a cheap book from the dollar store and the spirals are coming out."

"I'll be very careful, don't worry," Santa said, gently sinking down and taking the book. Carefully, he flipped through the pages. They were FULL of notes on all sorts of fantastical creatures, folklore and legends. "Woah. How did you figure out all this stuff?"

"Here and there," Steven said, scratching the back of his neck. "Um, I'm really good at running into like, fairies and stuff. It just kinda happens."

Jack had made his way over, looking at the booklet over Santa's shoulder. "Ou. Look at those sigils," he said, stopping Santa mid flip. "Nice form."

"Thank you!" the boy said, brightening. "I've also got pages for all the legendary figures. I think I got them all," he said with a frown. "But I dunno. You two are the first ones I've ever run into!"

"There's a reason for that," Jack said with a sniff. He sat down behind Santa now, leaning on the man's back, tired.

Santa steadied himself, making sure to support his friend's back. He smiled softly over his shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, Jack."

"I'm glad one of us thinks that," Jack replied quietly. Santa felt him slouch a bit, his head resting on the very top of Santa's back. The man was looking droopy as he picked at the bracelets, pausing to scratch his palms every so often.

Santa, in fact, knew it would be okay. His gut was telling him that they would be okay, and he always trusted his gut. But first, he needed to get Jack out of here and get those bracelets off of the sprite. And the kids were the key. And Santa was on the job—he knew just what these kids wanted. And they were both on the nice list. Plan taking shape in his head, he looked back down at the intricate notebook in his hands.

"This is very well done, Stevie. You must know a lot!"

"Oh yes. But I don't share it with my Dad, or any of his friends. Ever, at all. Only Jamie knows about it."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"He's. Mom had this word she used, antiquely—ant-something…"

"Antiquated," Jack piped up.

"Yeah! That! She says he doesn't like change."

Jamie sighed, hopping down from the desk and joining her brother in front of the cell. She sat down, gently, looking at Santa as earnest as could be. "He's obsessed with the past. Like, really obsessed. It's dumb. And the way he talks about you, Santa, between us, it makes me feel…really bad and icky," she said, Stevie nodding in agreement.

"Look, I know your family has this whole. Grudge thing, and I wouldn't want to impose. But it's a busy night, and my friend's looking really bad. I think the two of you could be a really big help for me tonight. I know you can't help me escape; I wouldn't want you to get into trouble on Christmas! Jack and I can take care of that ourselves—if we can get him back on his feet. Do you think you kids can give me a hand?"

The pair shared a look; finally, Jamie nodded. "We'll help you. With everything, even. But if we help you guys escape, we'll need your help, too."

"With?" Santa asked.

"An escape!" Jamie said, chipper. "We'll help you guys get out, but you gotta help me and Stevie and Mom and the baby leave, too. Can you do it?"

Santa looked over at Jack. "What do you think?"

Jack looked thoughtful, still slouched against Santa's back. "If I can get these things off, I can hold them off until reinforcements arrive. But once they do, we can slide on out of here like there's no tomorrow, kids, babies, moms, and valuables included."

"Then let's do it," Santa said laughingly. He clapped, sitting up straighter (Jack sliding even farther down Santa's back). "Alright. We have our escape plan. So tell me, Jamie…what's yours?"

---

A/N-Happy 2022! Here's the first half of the Clifton Society Incident! It's uh. It's very long. And Smile Shots are meant to be, y'know. quick reads? So I split it, especially when my brain went OH SHIT YOU COULD SPLIT IT AND HAVE THE FIRST PART BE CALLED SEARCH AND THE SECOND PART BE RESCUE, so that's what we're doing because I think I'm brilliant :).

Anyway, this has been in the doc manager for a hot minute while I tried to decide if I wanted to end it there or with the next scene. Then I saw on ff dot net's twitter that they had FINALLY fixed the issue with microsoft emails, so I figured now's a good time as any to update so I could do this:

ICYMI: for most of this year (and maybe longer), microsoft emails weren't getting email notifs from fanfic. So if you reviewed or followed or faved, I didn't see it before August-ish (nor did anyone else whose stories you may follow who uses a microsfot email for ff dot net!), when I switched from a microsoft email to a gmail. Once I did that, I started getting emails again! Seems like they've finally fixed this issue, so, here are the Crystal Springs/Frostverse updates you may have missed during the e-mail drought:

-Frostmas Year Ten went up (give it a read but PACE YOURSELF. It's a story of it's own at 30k. YIKES)
-Crystal Springs has been cleaned up to Chapter 18 (19?): Market Day (tho emails don't go out for this; I just post on tumblr when I've finished and posted them!)
-The Smile Shot "The Santa Dump", which this one follows, was also posted during the email drought! It's a fun one!

And I think that about covers it. Some amazing fics have cropped up in the category over here. Give them a read! Rules of Engagement is back with a shiny new update, so if you're a fan of Elle, hop on over to RoE chapter 39 for FRESH ELLE CONTENT! Jacqueline's there too ;)

ALSO! FANART AS FUCK ALERT! Crystal Springs/Frostverse has been getting a lot of love on tumblr? I'm floored. I know that the massive amount of ?'s I put there will disappear, but please know that there are a LOT at the end of that sentence! Smiles has a new cover image now, courtesy of tumblr (and ) user lmelodie! Please go check out their art, it's AMAZING, and their stories are fun reads! We love to see the Jack appreciation, and lmelodie DELIVERS.

I look forward to hearing back from you all, especially now that emails are working! Read and Review, and have a lovely weekend! Part 2: Rescue should be out oh, in two ish weeks, I hope.

Word count, sans A/N: roughly 14k.