It was their very first Christmas as a couple. Christine had always been somewhat aware that Erik hadn't really celebrated holidays before, but she didn't realize that he knew next to nothing about Christmas. She discovered this while they were at the mall.

They had passed by the heart of the mall where a massive holiday display had been set up and, in the center, a huge green chair and a very jolly, albeit fake, Santa. A line of parents and unruly children wound this way and that. It was noisy, it was chaotic, and it felt like Christmas to Christine. She nudged Erik. "We should get our picture with Santa." she teased. She knew the last thing her surly boyfriend would want was to spend an hour in line amid rowdy children, just to take a photograph.

"Who the devil is Santa?" He watched the man at the center of it all as he lifted a child onto his lap and offered them a candy cane.

Christine stopped, staring at Erik. "You… you don't know who Santa is? Santa Claus? Ho ho ho?"

"I do not," he replied, looking at her. "Should I?"

"Everyone knows who Santa is! He brings presents to good children! He flies through the night with his sleigh and his reindeer and he comes down the chimney and you leave milk and cookies for him and he gives you presents!"

"He must have skipped my house." Erik continued walking, seemingly eager to leave the plaza now.

He hadn't told her much of his childhood, just enough for her to know it hadn't been pleasant. But the idea that he'd never gotten to experience Santa made her want to cry. She had to fix that.

"Well," she followed after Erik, working very hard to keep up with his long strides. "Maybe Santa will come this year."

"I am not a child, nor am I good."

"You're… kind of good… most of the time. You're good enough for a visit from santa!"

"I'm a grown man."

"Still." She crossed her arms petulantly and he fell into silence.

Christmas was only a few days away so Christine made a big deal of making sugar cookies for Santa, insisting Erik help her decorate them with colored icing. He indulged her, though he wasn't exactly pleased.

"I don't know why you're going to all this trouble. He's never come for me before, he won't now. If he even exists."

"Of course he does! You'll see. I wrote him a letter."

"Where did you send this letter? How do you know where he lives?"

"I sent it to the north pole. It's just one of those things that people know. That's where he and his elves make all the toys."

"He has elves?"

"Well yeah, how else would he make enough toys for all the children?"

Erik was silent but the wheels in his mind were turning. If this "santa" was, in fact, a real person, who put him in charge of Christmas? He disappeared into his office, opening up his laptop. After several hours, he felt he knew everything there was to know about this Santa Claus, and a plan was starting to form.

Erik could be a better Santa. Erik could make sure no kids were ever left out. And Erik could give better gifts too. Christine always liked his gifts, didn't she? Yes, he felt pretty confident in his gift giving abilities.

He would need to look the part and he spent the better part of a day sewing his own santa costume. He was a far cry from plump and jolly, his red and white suit hanging off his skinny frame; He looked like someone had tried to reuse their Halloween decor by putting red and white on a skeleton, but he wasn't going to let that deter him.

Once Christine went to bed on Christmas eve, he placed her offering of cookies and milk in the middle of the room, setting his trap. Now, he just had to wait.

The waiting took longer than he expected and he was juuuust dozing off when a loud thump from the roof woke him up. He readied himself, his eyes trained on the fireplace. He could hear something sliding down the chimney. This was it.

A cloud of smoke billowed from the fireplace and Erik desperately fanned the air, trying to clear it. He couldn't see! He heard two heavy footsteps and sprang forward with his net, tackling something big and very plush.

By the time the smoke cleared, Erik had successfully ensnared the jolly man and he got his first real look at Santa Claus.

The man was far too big to have just slid down the chimney, with snow white hair and a kind face, though it was currently creased with anger. "Let me go!" he bellowed.

Erik crossed his arms. "Oh, you're being let go alright. I'm going to do your job better than you ever could."

Santa squinted at him. "Who are you?"

"I'm not surprised you don't know me."

"You're Erik."

Erik bristled. "Ok, so you know my name. Good for you." He leaned down, picking up the red cap Santa had lost when he'd tackled him, dusting it off. "I'd better get going if I'm going to finish your route."

"Why do you want to be me?"

"I don't want to be you, I want to be better than you. I want to make sure no child doesn't get Christmas because he's born ugly. No child gets forgotten because he's a monster."

"I did not forget you."

"You never came. Not once."

"Your mother- now she was a bad egg. She would have taken anything I left for you. Presents weren't left under the tree for you, but I left you gifts in other ways. You never ran out of clean staff paper. There was always a new book on the shelf to read. Your blankets were toasty and warm all through winter. You missed the magic of Christmas- I'm sorry for that. But I take care of my kids."

Erik stared at him, unable to find words. There were little things he could remember, things he'd never given much thought to as a child but now… it made sense.

"I'm… I'm sorry…"

Santa smiled, a smile that felt like a warm hug, and rose, the net dissolving in little sparks around him.

"But…. how?"

Santa only winked in response.

Erik held out his hat to him and he accepted it, placing it on his head. "Now, young man. It's off to bed with you, or I'll have to leave coal in your stocking."

Erik nodded and moved towards the stairs, still trying to process everything. He turned back. "Thank you…"

Santa Claus was gone. The plate of cookies now only held a few crumbs and the glass of milk was drained. A few wrapped boxes glittered underneath the tree. Erik turned back to the stairs, but, as he started to ascend, he could have sworn he heard a voice whisper, "Merry Christmas, Erik…"