Title: Dear Santa
Author: Dark Roswellian Angel
Elizabeth McDowell
Disclaimer: I do. I so totally do. Which means that Alec will, of course, be waiting for me in my stocking Christmas morning. Bring on the Christmas cheer :)
Copying/Downloading/Posting: Please let me know first, and let me know where my work will be posted as I would love to come visit it. Make sure that it is put under my name, as I would love to hear how others feel about it. Thanks ;)
Rating: K+, just in case
Synopsis: 8-(short)parter. Snow Day in Las Vegas, NV put me in the mood. It's Christmas time, and several people are writing their letters to Santa. A lot of those letters seem to have a recurring theme. Find out what it is and whether or not Santa will respond. I will update one chapter a day and finish on Christmas Day- It's a Merry Christmas present to my readers.
A/N: Part 5 is up. Yay!
Dear Santa,
Please help my readers to understand that 25-18=7, so when I planned this fic out, I planned 7 chapters instead of the 8th one that is necessary for me to be able to put one out on Christmas Day. I planned to put Max's out on Christmas Eve and Santa's response on Christmas Day. And since I realized, with quite some horror, that I actually needed 8 chapters instead of 7 I've been driving myself crazy trying to figure out how to get that last one put in. I considered dividing the Christmas Day chapter in 2 or adding a Christmas Eve one in (even considered making Santa sick so that Max and Alec had to run his job for him), but neither of those worked for me because I wanted to have all of the chapters except for the last one be letters to Santa. Then, dear, dear angelofdarkness78 made a suggestion that I've pondered and then decided to put in as the central part of the 7th chapter. I want to thank all of my wonderful reviewers (Bella1992, Jabberwocky1, Chica De Los Ojos Café, angelofdarkness78, Nehasupnfan, Midnight Parallax, Anna-xx-Banana, and ackles-shackles) for their kindnesses (please don't let them hate me now), and especially angelofdarkness78 for saving my hide. And if this chapter doesn't quite work for them, Santa, please help them to remember 1) I never intended to write 8 chapters (oops), 2) this chapter probably would have gone before Logan's chapter (if I were capable of counting correctly and had therefore planned correctly), 3) I never claimed to be perfect (only Malec-obsessed), and 4) it's angelofdarkness78's fault. (JK) Hope they do enjoy, though.
Sincerely,
Dark Roswellian Angel (Michelle)
The next day everyone was in a much better mood. In fact, some of them were in such better moods that they found themselves staring off dreamily as thoughts of sugar plums, candy canes, and their own versions of Alec played through their heads. Mmmm…. Still, they were much more productive and everyone was getting along with everyone else- a sort of Yuletide-meets-Valentine's camaraderie helped them not only to catch up to their schedule but surpass it. Which meant that several of them were noticeably absent for at least 10 minutes after lunch, and when they came back, several of the male elves had heart-shaped lipstick on their cheeks, and several of the females couldn't seem to stop smiling.
This all combined to make them very confused when the Mail Call Bell rang and they ran to the Opening Room to find Mrs. Claus waiting for them. They had thought that everything was okay now, so why was she there? Their worries were laid to rest when she picked up a tray of cookies and began sharing them while saying, "I just had to see if we have anymore letters from those dear little transgenics down in Seattle. I must say this whole thing is far surpassing even the best episodes of 'Moonlight' (which since the North Pole is the place where all the best dreams come true hasn't been nor ever will be canceled on her TV), and I wanted to be here to see if anything comes next. I'm rooting for Alec, what about you?" she confided with a friendly smile.
When the door opened to show her husband coming in, her smile turned up several notches and he beamed back at her before sitting in his great chair. Then, he looked at all the other room occupants and smiled, "Well, we might as well get started, wouldn't you say?" They all nodded happily as they crunched on Mrs. Claus' chocolate chip, caramel, coconut pecan squares. (Absolutely delicious- you'll have to remind her to get you the recipe sometime)
Santa leaned down and began the happy task of opening the world's wishes. It took quite a while before he received his first letter from somewhere just outside Seattle. With just the tiniest bit of unease in his eyes (left over from 2 days ago) he opened it and began to read.
Dear Santa,
I write this as a plea for help. For hundreds of years, my group has been trying to fight back the oppression promised by a group that we originally belonged to until we realized that they were wrong to want to destroy so many lives. Let me start over- for centuries there has been a selective breeding cult whose goal it has been to prepare for the destruction of the majority of the world's population at which point in time they would become the rulers of the remaining humans. They have developed sick rituals and traditions and even tests to determine who is worthy of being a part of their aristocracy. Hundreds of years ago, a small faction began to realize that it is wrong to look forward to the pain and suffering of any living being and instead decided that they wanted to find a way to save the world. To this end, many of our scientists have been attempting to find a cure to the plague that will soon attack us all. One man, a great man had two sons, though if he had not been living according to the collective's rules he may have had four, and he loved them both. He knew that one would not survive the test and, because he loved him so much, he decided that the group must be wrong. In the end, he had to leave the group because they accused him of heresy and would have killed both of his sons, his wife, and him otherwise. He was the greatest mind of the 20th century (and many other centuries as well) and so was able to find a way to get into a governmental unit that was experimenting with genetics. Under the guise of head scientist, he was able to perform some of his own tests during which he found the cure and implanted it into two of the children involved in the government's program. Soon after this, and before letting anyone know which of the children he had changed, he was discovered by the collective and had to escape. Until just a few months ago, those of us who knew what he had done had been searching for those children. One of them escaped the government's program approximately ten years ago, and the other one's genes did not show any alterations until just after the other was recaptured. At the time I had managed my way to the top of the program so that I could keep an eye out for the two children. By the time I had realized who they were, it was too late. The program was destroyed and I was shot in an attempt to save the girl's life. I was able to tell her to try to find my husband, but I passed out before I was able to tell her why. To this day, I have been unable to find her again, and as I am currently being hunted myself, I don't know if she made it out alright or not. I can only hope that the other one, whom by some game of fate I had partnered her with, is also still alive. Please, what I am asking, Santa, is that you help me find them so that I can offer them the protection that my group is capable of. We want them to be safe, not only for us but for the world, though I admit to also hoping that after all is said and done my family- my dear husband and our two boys- can be reunited and that we will be able to put down old grudges and misunderstandings so that we can be happy together again.
Sincerely,
Renfro
Santa looked around at his listeners. "Huh, well that certainly does explain some things, doesn't it," he said and the others nodded their agreement. It wasn't exactly what they had been hoping for, but the bag wasn't empty yet. Santa went back to work opening letters.
Almost half an hour later, Santa came across a second letter with a Seattle postmark on it, though this one had no return address.
Dear Santa (or should I say X0-HoHoHo since you were the original product of the original genetics lab all those centuries ago- yes I know who you are),
I write this as a letter of request, and before you say that all of your letters are letters of request, I believe that this particular letter is a bit different from the others. I doubt you often get letters from dead guys- I'm guessing that's why you didn't send me my request last year (or at least the traditional coal that I usually get), because you thought I was dead. Only I'm not, so first I would appreciate it if you would put me back on your list. Especially since I've been doing some very good things lately- for the good of the whole world as a matter of fact, perhaps even more so than the program that I was involved in for over 20 years. See, now I'm fighting to save the world from this selective breeding cult- I don't know if you've ever heard of it. I'm not even sure what the name of it is. I'm sure Eyes Only could tell you (Santa and everyone shuddered and Santa's eyes narrowed at the letter until he read the next line) only I'm not exactly on the best of terms with him right now. Ever since I told him that he's a putz who could never, ever, EVER be worthy of X5-452 (you may know her better as Max), I seem to have found myself on his blacklist. Which I can totally live with. What I can't seem to live with is being out of the action- no resources and no way to help my kids. See, there's this big bad something coming and I know that when it hits, they're going to be at the center of the action (that's what we trained them to do) and I have to do what I can to help them. Especially Max. I know I shouldn't play favorites, but I can't help it when it comes to her. She is the one who can save us all, but someone has to be there to save her. I know that, if they're still together, X5-494 (I heard she named him 'Alec') would try, would probably die to help her- after all they were matched up because they were perfect for each other (as opposed to the dipstick Ordinary with the God complex she has stubbornly grabbed on to and won't let go of because she's scared of what being with X5-494 would be like and she can't stand the thought that Manticore might have actually had it right when they paired the two of them up)- but if they just knew what they're up against maybe that wouldn't be necessary. And so that's what I'm asking for- the resources to find out what they're up against and to be able to prepare them for it. I'm going to continue trying to help them no matter what you do. After all, that's why I was run off the road in the first place by one of the snake-worshiping breeding cult loonies, Ames White (ever heard of him?) (Santa's eyebrows rose in surprise and a bit of admiration- anyone who could tick White off that much was someone Santa was willing to give some respect to)- because I was trying to find out the truth. But I really would appreciate any help you could give me.
Thanks,
Lydecker
Santa sat for a moment pondering the words of this particular letter. The information in it was actually enough for him to look up at his Naughty/Nice list and transfer Lydecker's name from one column to the next. Anyone willing to put themselves at this much risk to help Max and Alec automatically earned bonus points from him, and the fact that Lydecker was finally pursuing a cause that would help people instead of instilling fear in transgenics made him much more likeable in all the rooms' occupants' eyes. But after that, Santa got back to work.
After about 20 more minutes, he came across a very strange letter- the address had been made out of letters cut out of magazines (as had the letter inside) and there was no return address. Even stranger, there was no postmark so it wasn't even possible to determine which city, state, or country it had come from. Santa's first concern was how to find the writer in order to deliver whatever they were requesting, if he decided they should receive it. He began to read.
Dear Santa,
I don't know if you know me. Heaven knows I've spent the majority of my life on the Naughty list if you do. And seeing as how I'm over 100 now, that's a very long time. However, people in my "family" tend to live for a very long time. But I'm not writing to you in order to give you my life's history. I'm writing about a very special pair of people- a couple who will one day work miracles for this world, who will one day save millions, probably billions, of lives. I'm writing about two people who I was privileged to help create, though we share none of the same genes. I'm asking you to help my special little one and her other half. You see, I was once a part of a program that created special people. Oh, I knew that the goal of the people who thought they were running the program was to create supersoldiers so that they could send in ten soldiers instead of sending in a hundred and lose none of them, but that was never my goal. My goal was to save the world, to save my sons, to save my family. And so I created the genes for one special little child, but because I didn't want her to be lonely, I created a second child who would be her defender, her confidante, her best friend, her knight in shining armor. I put all those things into him that I put into her that made it so that they could, and would, save the world together, and I made sure to put all those little things into them that would make them fit together so perfectly, complement each other so well, that they would complete each other (after they were done fighting it and probably each other- because a little spunk is needed in people who wouldn't be accepted by the world around them and yet were expected to save it). And now I'm writing to you to ask for your help. I recently discovered that the place that I was forced to leave them has been destroyed, and I am terrified that they may have been destroyed with it. Or perhaps even worse that they may have been separated by the destruction, or even before it. So, what I am asking is that you guide them- make them safe, make them healthy, make them whole in the only way that is possible- by bringing them together. Please, help prepare them for the world and give them each other so that they will be strong enough to do what is asked of them. For myself, I ask nothing, except that perhaps one day I might be reunited with the only woman who has ever owned my heart (regardless of how badly I have treated her) and our sons. Please, watch over them all.
Thank you,
Sandeman
Santa looked up from the letter with a concerned look in his eye. "If these letters are true, then our friends down in Seattle are not the only ones who must be prepared. We have just one more correspondence that we must wait for before we can know what the correct course of action is, though it seems more and more sure with each letter we get. After that, we will do what is needed." He looked around at the group surrounding him, glad to know that he had their loyalty and that they were all capable of what they may be required to do- he had trained them all well, and not just in the toy-making abilities for which they were famous. As they stood before him, straight and proud, he smiled, "We have work to do." With that, he stood and they all followed him out the door.