Disclaimer: I own nothing. Least of all this.


"And on a dark, cold night

Under full moonlight

He flies into a fog

Like a vulture in the sky!

And they call him Sandy Claaaaaawwwwwwwsssss!"

- Danny Elfman


1) WHAT'S THIS?

It's been said that becoming a parent automatically bestows one with a wide variety of superpowers. Super hearing, super speed, the ability to run on absolutely no sleep whatsoever.

And, as Samuel Campbell could now add to the list, the ability to see straight through solid objects.

He slowly lowered his (admittedly rather dry) book to meet the gaze of his youngest daughter, Mary; who had evidently, as indicated by the red eyes and nose, been crying recently. Must be serious then; usually Mary was one of the loudest whenever something went wrong. It was only when she was perfectly silent that everyone knew the world was ending.

A sigh involuntarily escaped his lips as he set his book aside and leaned forward. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Ah; here came the tears.

"Is…" Mary began to bawl. "Daddy, is…"

"Is what, sweetheart?"

Those terrified brown eyes stared up into his. "Daddy, is Santa Claus dead?"

...Aw hell. He gently reached down and pulled her into his lap. "Oh, honey; wherever did you get an idea like that? Was it your brothers?"

A nod.

"And just what did they say, exactly?"

"They… they said that…"

He cradled her closer to his chest. "Hey, hey; it's okay sweetie. Deep breath in; deep breath out. It's gonna be okay."

After a few minutes, it seemed Mary had finally reached the bottom of the rain barrel. "Daddy...you're a hunter."

"Yes, sweetpea; I am."

"And there's other hunters too, right?"

"Of course there are, honey."

"Well...if there's lots and lots of hunters...and only one Santa...then...then…"

He filled in the rest for himself. "Then how come a hunter hasn't killed Santa Claus by now; is that what you wanna know?"

Mary nodded vigorously.

Ho boy. This was gonna take every last one of his improv skills to straighten out. "Well honey; you know how there's hundreds of thousands of kids in the world, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, the only way for Santa to get to each and every one of their houses every Christmas is to stop time right at midnight every time. And since time is stopped, there's no way for a hunter to stop him unless they can somehow get time started again."

"But they can, Daddy! Josh said that Elliot Ness…"

"Fought Kronos, the Titan of Time, yes I know, who do you think told him that story? But you're forgetting something, sweetheart: the elves."

"The elves?"

"Santa's helpers! Who do you think helps Santa stop time each year? If anything happens to Sant on his trip, I'm sure they can just turn time backwards and make it so that nothing ever happened."

"Really?"

"Really really."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise."

They shook pinkies with utter solemnity, after which Mary promptly squealed and hugged him tight. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"Anything for you, sweetpea. Now, don't you have a room to clean? I'd hate to have my daughter end up on Santa's naughty list for not obeying her mother."

A groan from the drama queen. "But Daaaaaad….."

"You know the rules, kiddo; no cuts, no buts, no coconuts. Off with you."

Little did he know as he watched his daughter trudge her way out of the room that that one conversation would come back to bite him in the most ironic way possible.


"Daddy! Daddy!"

"Hnnn.." His eyes felt like they'd been glued shut. "Sweetpea…"

One eyelid finally clawed its way open, revealing an absurd number on his nightstand clock. "I know it's Christmas, sweetheart, but midnight's way too early for presents."

"No, Daddy! It's stopped!"

"...What."

"The clocks, Daddy! They've all stopped! It's him! It's Santa Claus!"

...Or something far worse. "Honey, stay here with your mom."

"But Daaaad…"

"Sweetheart, if Santa Claus is out there, do you think he'll give you your presents if you see him?"

"...No. I'll stay."

"Good girl."

The door clicked shut behind him, and immediately his steps turned towards the hidden safe behind the bathroom sink (he'd been surprised one too many times in the shower). Flare gun, salt shaker, holy water spritz bottle, silver knife...and, as a last resort, a special stake dipped in lamb's blood. The list of things that could stop time was incredibly small; some would say nonexistent.

He knew better.

It was Christmas, but his odds were on Krampus instead of Kringle. He'd never been the biggest fan of the holiday, and both his boys were plenty vocal about how they felt about it.

A thump on the roof; then another. Footsteps. Someone was up there, and they were trying very hard to be sneaky. No jingling; which meant no reindeer. Fantastic.

The stake went into the crossbow he kept by the back door; best not to get too close to anything as nasty as the literal opposite of Old Saint Nick. His feet slid into the quietest pair of boots he owned (no snow tonight, thankfully). The door slid open with the smallest of squeaks; he paused anyway, just to make sure he hadn't been heard. Another thump confirmed that he hadn't, and so he snuck out into the night.

He'd been wrong; there were reindeer on the roof. They were just standing really, really still. Impossibly still. Creepy as hell. And standing directly in front of them, doing...something...to his chimney, was a man.

A man in a bright, red suit.

Huh.

So. Santa Claus was real.

Good to know.

Still, the old man was doing something he was pretty sure wasn't delivering presents; for one, no bag. So, he did what any sensible person would do when confronted with an apparition atop their house:

He aimed the crossbow, and shouted.

"Hey, you!"

The man in the suit bolted upright at the call...and then promptly lost his balance.

The crossbow dropped to the ground as he dove for the falling figure; too late. The man hit the ground with a sickening crunch; almost certainly some broken bones on that one.

"Oooo…" he said, and then hissed. "That's not good. Hey; hey buddy? You okay?"

No response.

"Okay...okay, okay…" First things first: check Kringle's pockets. No moving anything; broken backs had to be kept perfectly still. Necks too, for that matter. A quick rifle later, and all he had was...a business card.

A business card with absolutely no helpful information on it.

"If anything should happen to me, put on the suit. The reindeer will know what to do. What the hell does that mean? Where's some elves when you need 'em; little twerps shoulda noticed something by now. What exactly am I supposed to do ohhhhhhh."

So. Santa Claus wasn't a person. It was a title.

And he'd apparently just been offered the job.

Deanna and Mary were still inside; the boys more than likely still asleep. And, as far as he could tell, time was still stopped.

Could he do it?

A look around only confirmed no one else appeared to be coming. If he didn't do this, didn't put on the suit and fill in to finish the night out...who would? No elves around; no understudies, nobody. Just him, and the reindeer.

If he didn't...he could never look Mary in the eyes again.

"Dammit." And damn his extremely oversized public duty gland.

He turned back to the fallen figure...only to find that he'd disappeared. Leaving nothing behind but the suit. So, probably magic then. Maybe the elves were watching. Maybe they couldn't get anyone into the time stop, but they could get things out of it. And maybe, just maybe, Santa was being wheeled into whatever kind of ICU the North Pole had.

One could hope.

At least it made his decision easier. He pulled the suit over his own clothes (he was grateful for the size difference), and then strapped down the sash. Hopefully the overall effect wasn't too ridiculous. He certainly felt pretty stupid.

Now, how best to get up on the OWWWWWW! Where the hell did that ladder come from? More magic nonsense? Great; just great. Well, there went his theory about the time stop. Seemed there was a way to get stuff inside. Back to square one in explaining all of this.

Ah, he'd figure it out later. For now, there was a ladder, and there was a roof. Best not to put the sleigh before the reindeer.

Up he went, trying his best to avoid making any noise. The last thing he needed was anyone coming outside when he had absolutely no good way to spin any of this. Come to think of it, if he got back before anyone noticed, he could avoid any explanations at all. Well, except for Mary. And probably Deanna.

The good news was he had all the time in the world to work out a story that wouldn't get him killed by either of them


The first house went pretty smoothly.

The second and third, not so much.

The second, it had taken him a good five minutes to work out the bag refilled itself.

On the third, not only had there not been a chimney, there'd been a really freaking big dog inside.

Fortunately, the spritz bottle had worked wonders.

From there on out, it was pretty much smooth sailing. And when at last the clouds began to move once more, and the bag stubbornly remained empty, he swung the reindeers' heads back in the direction of home: due north.

His only mistake was dozing off halfway through the flight back home.

When he awoke, it was to the realization that they'd landed. And not only landed, landed in the middle of an ice field. Oops. Too far north.

He reached for the reins...only to have the entire harness detach from the sleigh, reindeer and all. Because of course it did. Welp, it looked like he was gonna have to hitch a ride home. How many miles was it from Canada to…

His train of thought came to a crashing halt as an elf popped up out of the snow. Followed closely by an instantly recognizable glowing barber's pole.

"You gotta be kidding me…"

The elf fiddled with something at the base of the pole, and then stood back up as the pole retracted. They stared (he thought) awkwardly at each other the entire time. Then, with a lurch, the ground dropped out from beneath him.

An icy cavern, devoid of life and light is what he'd been expecting. Instead, the sleigh sans reindeer slowly lowered itself down into a cheery, festively decorated...stable. At least, that's what it looked like to him (being a farmer, he would know).

His opinion was only validated as he watched the reindeer teleport (teleport!) into their respective stalls. So, not only were the residents of the North Pole good with time, they were also just as much experts when it came to space. Figured.

"Took you long enough." came a voice from behind him. He reflexively stood and swung to face it, only to find himself having to look down at the person (who's head just barely came up past the back of the sleigh).

Elves; right.

"Well, don't just stand there;" the elf snapped. "We're way behind schedule, and the sleigh can't be washed and waxed while you're sitting in it."

"I'm actually standing," he clapped back. "In case you hadn't noticed."

The elf put his hands on his hips in the exact same way Mary liked to do when she wasn't getting her way. It hadn't worked on him then, and it certainly wouldn't work now. "Yes, thank you Captain Obvious. Now, if you don't mind, could you please move."

"...Fine." he grunted. "But only cause you said please."

He grunted as his feet hit the sawdust covered floor. "So, you'd be the Head Elf then."

"No, that'd be you."

"Right; forgot. But you're in charge whenever Santa's not around, right?"

"More or less. Depends on how bad everyone else's messed up. Name's Bernard."

"Sam. Sam Campbell."

"Yeah, we know who you are. Follow me; we got a lotta paperwork to get through and not much time left."

He wanted to groan. Seemed bureaucracy was the same no matter where you went.

"So…" he began as they half-strode, half-marched down a bright corridor. "What happened to the other Santa?"

"The one you replaced? Don't worry about him, he's been taken care of."

A sigh of relief. "Good. When'll he be back on the job?"

"He won't."

"...Wait, WHAT?"

"You took the card, you put on the suit, boom, you're the Big Man now. And that's all you need to know."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up." He pushed past Bernard and then planted himself firmly in the elf's way. "I thought this was just a temporary gig. You know, understudy, fill-in. I can't do this full-time!"

"Why not?"

"Why not? I've got a farm, a job! A family!"

"Married?"

"YES!"

"Good, that'll save time later."

"You're not listening to me: I. Can't. Be.Santa Claus."

"Sure you can." Bernard was doing that thing with his hands and hips again. "You did tonight, didn't you?"

"Exactly! The only reason I did it was because no one else showed up. You're the North Pole, for crying out loud! You oughta have at least some contingency plans in case anything happens to your boss!"

"We do. It's called the Santa Clause."

"What, like a contract?"

"No, like the...yes, like a contract. It's all right there on the card."

"What , you mean this one?" He pulled the card from his pocket. "All that's on here is 'If anything should happen to me, put on the suit, the reindeer will know what to do.'"

"No, that's just the beginning. Here; let me show you. CURTIS!"

He jumped once at the unexpected yell, and then once again as a pea-size midget appeared on his right.

"All ready, Bernard! The magnifier's all set up!"

"Excellent. Right in here Santa."

Magnifier? He thought as they pulled him into the room. Why would they need a magnifier?


Oh. That's why they needed the magnifier.


Shell-shock.

That's what they used to call it, back in Korea. He'd wondered once or twice what it felt like. He was wishing now that he'd never gotten further than that.

Another elf (Judy, her name was Judy) handed him a cup of hot cocoa. "A lot to take in, isn't it?"

"What? Oh; no, not really. It's just...not exactly what I pictured myself doing in retirement."

"Please." Judy sighed. "You're a hunter. Retirement was never going to be an option for you."

"...Know about that, do you?"

"You hear things when you've been at this job as long as I have. It was a really short list this time for Santa's replacement; just you and one other guy who was already in the toy business."

"Really? Seems like he'd be better for the job."

"Probably. But you had an advantage he didn't."

"And what was that?"

"You already sort of believed. Not to mention," she continued as she refilled his mug, "There's quite a few things out there that would prefer there not to be a Santa at all. We figured having an expert on hand for emergencies would be worth the trade-off."

"Smart. So...I have until Thanksgiving."

"I'm afraid so. We used to allow until Halloween, but there was an...incident...with a skeleton."

"...I don't even wanna know. Least this," he hefted the snowglobe Bernard had given him, "oughta make explaining things easier."

"Hopefully." hummed Judy.

Already his mind was running at max speed, trying to figure out how best to manage a farm long-distance. That Winchester boy was a nice lad; maybe he'd be willing to help out for a little extra cash. He had until next November to teach the kid the ropes anyway.

One thing to be said for this insanity: at least his family would be a whole lot safer now. Not many things could probably get past whatever magical protections being Santa Claus brought with the title. And if he did his best to keep it on the down low, the only place any of Kris Kringle's enemies might come looking would be right here, at the North Pole. Great; instead of fighting off monsters for the next twenty years, it was looking more and more like it would be closer to twenty-hundred.

You're doing this for Mary, he reminded himself. He'd never let his girl down before, and he'd be damned if he started now.

Plans and explanations swam in his head as he collapsed into the far-too big bed, and then vanished as his eyes closed in sleep.


"Normally, we'd just magically transport you back," Bernard commented off-handedly, "but we're making an exception this time because you've not only got quite a lot of people to convince, you've also actually got a place a reindeer can stay. Just one thing to remember; under no circumstances are you ever to give Comet carrots."

"No carrots for the reindeer" he grunted as he hoisted himself into the smaller sleigh. "Got it."

"And if anyone outside your family asks, just tell them you're watching Comet for some friends from Canada. We've arranged for some snow in Lawrence to cover your arrival, so don't go flying around except for demonstrative purposes."

"Arranged for snow? How's that work?"

"A warlock owed us a favor. Now go! Sun's almost up."

"Sun's been almost up for the last hour."

"So? Chop chop!"

"Aye aye, boss."

"See you Thanksgiving, Santa."

"If not sooner." he muttered under his breath as Comet pulled the sleigh into the sky. "If not sooner."


Deanna was waiting for him in the backyard.

"So." she said, holding up the crossbow he'd dropped what felt like a lifetime ago. "Looks like you had an interesting night. Care to tell me about it?"

Ho boy.