Part Five

The day after Bernard's appointment with Dr. Kane proved Santa's suspicions; Bernard was stressed out and even talking about his numerous and extensive anxieties was to prove helpful. The Head Elf had received a small candy-striped envelope from a winged messenger fairy and had promptly stormed out of the workshop, leaving Curtis and his horde of assistants with their mouths agape.

The Head Elf was pacing back and forth in an abandoned corridor that led to the Stuffing Room, muttering to himself when Anna passed him on her way to the Sewing Station. A small-featured girl with sharp eyes and a winning smile, Anna had long since charmed her share of Elfsburg's men, both young and old. However, Bernard barely noticed her. She paused with her hand on the rail leading downstairs. She turned back to him.

"Bernard?" she said tentatively.

He stopped pacing and whirled around, his curls bouncing underneath his hat. "What?" he said, not unkindly.

Feeling emboldened, Anna stepped back up on the landing. "Are you all right?"

Bernard sighed. "I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. He stared at the opened envelope clutched in his hands.

Anna's cheeks flushed. She turned back towards the stairs. "Okay, then," she said, taking the stairs quickly.

Bernard looked up again. "Wait!" he said finally.

Anna stopped and turned back toward him. "Yes?"

"No," he said simply. He gestured to the envelope. "I'm not okay. Does she think I have all the time in the world?"

"Who, sir?"

"Dr. Kane!" the older elf nearly howled. He proceeded to pace. "Who does she think she is, assigning me homework this close to Christmas?" Defeated, he sank into a chair on the landing, still staring at the letter.

The younger elf's heart instantly melted for the Head Elf. True, he was something of a legend around Elfsburg for his efficiency and his relationship with Santa, but, unfortunately, his grumpy nature preceded him wherever he went. Seeing him less irritable and more… she couldn't quite put a word to it, but the best she could come up with was- was it helpless?- made her want to help him in any way she could.

"What homework?" Anna ventured. She held a small hand out for the envelope.

"She got me talking about my feelings," Bernard said begrudgingly, "and now she wants me to do all these things to prove to her that I can see it manifesting in my life. As if I have time for that! She wants at least five things crossed off before next week!"

Anna scanned the list. She grinned. "Bernard. These are easy."

He stared at her.

She giggled in spite of herself. "Seriously. Come with me, I can help you with the photograph part. Have you met Simon?"

When he didn't answer right away, Anna knew he was trying to remember several hundred years' worth of Position Ceremonies. After all, Simon was a pretty popular name. Finally, he said, "Simon in Catalogues, Simon in the barn, or Simon in Electronics?"

Anna beamed. "Simon in Catalogues. Come on, you'll love him!"

"Simon?" Anna called. They had crossed through the square to the small building that housed the Catalogue section, which catered to thousands of toy stores around the world for bulk ordering. Since it was an option that many had stopped using due to the Internet (and Internet purchases were handled by a different department entirely), the building was in slighter disrepair than the majority of the other workshop buildings in town. Anna had assured Bernard, after they had asked Santa for the afternoon to take care of some of Bernard's homework, that Simon spent a great deal of time tinkering with old cameras and films and experimenting with exposure techniques.

The building was, in short, a maze of tables and bookshelves full of cameras, film canisters, photo albums, and, Anna noted with a girlish sense of joy, the biggest collection of scrapbooking supplies she had ever seen. Props of every kind popped out at them- a Roman column with a massive potted plant perched on top of it, a giant magic mushroom that appeared to be doubling as a stool near a low table, and several fans.

The seat at the reception desk at the front of the house, just off the parlor, was empty. A small silver bell was placed in the center of the counter, with a small, glittery, handmade sign that said 'ring me maybe' next to it. Anna slapped it without hesitation.

What seemed like a thousand gentle, tinkling bells rang out. Bernard could've sworn that the peals floated up the stairs to the rooms above and around the back to the kitchenette area.

A thud came from upstairs, followed by a clatter.

"Be right down!" called a voice. "I promise, I'll be just there, then… why don't you take a look 'round?"

"Thanks, Simon!" Anna called back. She began to poke around the scrapbooking supplies in earnest, paying special mind to the paper punches and stickers.

Bernard, on the other hand, wandered toward the bookcases full of photo albums. He selected one that appeared to be half full that had been casually shoved back onto the shelf, and flipped it open.

Hundreds of beautiful photographs, so vivid it almost hurt to look at them, met his eye.

A platter full of gingerbread men, just decorated.

A cheeky smile from Comet in his stall in the barn.

A toddler, bundled beyond recognition, wobbling around the skating rink on new skates, its ears pink with cold.

A young boy placing a hat on a snowman.

A shot of the North Pole from below, the Arctic sun glinting off the crystal.

Santa playing in the annual tinsel football game, having the time of his life fending off a rush of elves.

Curtis at Valentine's Day, Cupid chasing him around the workshop atrium.

Charlie's sixteenth birthday cake, a row of elves from the Kitchen smiling proudly at their creation, a tiered monster truck race track.

Judy and Andrew sharing a mug of hot chocolate.

A pile of gorgeous wrapped packages underneath the tree in the Grand Hall.

Anna winning the homemade cookie bake-off trophy, thrusting it, Olympic-style, into the air.

Belle and Bernard walking and smiling at each other shyly in the square.

Curtis leading a meeting at the Naughty and Nice station.

Santa cradling a new infant, its proud parents looking on.

An icicle-lined roof.

An older elf helping his wife into her coat at Noel, the fanciest of the restaurants in town.

A pile of sleds next to a tree.

Mrs. Clause twirling around in a new fur-lined coat from her husband.

Curtis getting hit in the face with a snowball during the annual workshop snowball fight.

Belle playing with a small, feisty-looking gray kitten.

Bernard stopped, and turned the pages back a few. Surely he would've remembered someone taking a photo of him recently? It was only from two weeks ago, when he and Belle had met up at the kitchen and he had apologized.

He was mesmerized by this photo. He looked, for once, relaxed and happy. Gone were the knots in his stomach that tripled at the thought of failing children at Christmas. He could see the rays of arctic sunlight peeking over the roof of the medical building, highlighting the chocolate brown ringlets that grazed his cheeks. Even his posture was relaxed… instead of waving his hands around with frustration, his hands were clasped behind his back, his shoulders angled towards the younger elf accompanying him, the small curve of a smile playing on his lips.

If he thought he looked decent, Belle looked enchanting in comparison. Her golden hair glinted in the light, and snowflakes clung to her long locks. Her cheeks were a delightful, flushed pink, and her lips could barely contain her smile.

Anna peered over his shoulder. "He does good work, doesn't he?" she murmured appreciatively.

"That's er, quite the endorsement, don't you think?" A voice said quietly from the doorway. Bernard shoved the album back on the shelf hastily.

The elf in the doorway was dressed in a pair of trousers and a green sweater with brown corduroy elbow patches. Small glasses were perched on his nose, and his sandy brown hair fell into his clear blue eyes, eyes that were bright and old-world wise.

"Simon!" Anna threw her arms around him, knocking his glasses askew. "Meet Bernard!"

"Pleasure," Simon offered his hand.

Bernard accepted it. "Anna said you could help me?"

Simon shifted uncomfortably. "I'll try, sir, jus' fill me in on the assignment?"

Bernard produced the striped parchment from his inside vest pocket. He handed it over reluctantly.

Simone skimmed the letter. "Dr. Kane, I presume?" He nodded, running his finger down the page. He looked up. "I may have the right equipment for you. Wait right here, yes?" He disappeared through a doorway Bernard swore wasn't there a second ago.

He returned several minutes later with a small package. He handed it to Bernard.

The Head Elf pulled out what looked like a regular disposable camera. He made a face. "These went out years ago! What am I supposed to do with this?!"

Simon sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "You see, it appears to be a disposable camera," he explained patiently, "But it's magically altered to detect happiness and serenity in a situation. You simply point, and it will snap the shot itself." He indicated a little clasp at the back. "When you're ready for the photos, there's a bit of a button, just here, and-"

"So… All I have to do is have it out? I don't actually have to take pictures myself?" Bernard couldn't believe it. With this camera, he could go about his regular day, and complete his assignment for Dr. Kane. He smiled. His day was looking much brighter all of a sudden.

Simon blinked. "Yes," he said slowly.

Bernard shook his hand happily. "Thank you very much, Simon, you are the best!"

His walk back to the workshop was deliberately slow- he held the camera down at his side, pointing it out at the rest of the town. He smiled at passing elves, not noting their confused glances back at him.

He waved at Lucy on the carousel in the middle of town- she was riding a reindeer that looked a lot like Chet, while the bored elf running the ride read 'In Style' magazine. She waved back, scowling a bit when her white knit hat slid off her ginger locks.

When he arrived in the Naughty and Nice Center, Curtis gave a start. His trusty clipboard was at his side, and Bernard could see that he had taken over making the rounds while he and Anna were off consulting Simon. He felt a rush of appreciation for the shorter, anal-retentive elf.

"Thank you, Curtis," he said, glancing over the clipboard. "How are the kids down in Bows?"

"On schedule, sir," Curtis said. "They had a teeny mishap-" –he held up his fingers- "-with the stick-on kind, but we've cleared that up." He peeled a bow off of his shoulder. "Barely."

Bernard looked at him. "Oookay," he said slowly. "What's this about a shortage in Wrapping?"

Curtis glanced at the clipboard again. "Oh, that," he said, nodding, "You know those twisty-ties that we use to keep the toys in their packages? Well, we ran out."

"Reserves?" Bernard asked.

"No," Curtis shrugged. "Turns out, based on the research that the Administration for International Childrens' Development, in the South Pole, conducted last year, 88 percent of children get annoyed with those twisty-ties, so we just stopped using them after we ran out!"

Bernard nodded thoughtfully. "And we eliminate a little waste at the same time. Perfect."

"What's that, Bernard? Since when do you take photos?" Curtis asked, mildly interested by the camera in the older elf's hand.

"Oh, it's part of my assignment," Bernard sighed, sounding annoyed. He gestured to the hustle and bustle around the workshop. "I figure there's more than enough material here to photograph."

For the rest of the afternoon, Bernard popped into each department and checked in, as per the 12 Days of Christmas rule. He tasted candy canes in the Sugar and Spice room. He helped a young elf named Elijah in Woodworking fix the wheel on a train. He and Curtis got tied up in Bows, when the elves, snickering and casually surrounding them, wrapped them up with silver ribbon and took a photo with the camera.

There was one department Bernard avoided… or saved for last, depending on how you looked at it. Nearly six, Bernard climbed the stairwell to the Sketching Squad tower from where he'd been in Wrapping, which was situated in the basement of the workshop. It really was an interesting place to be- there were big windows all around, and tables for sketching and making prototypes in the center of the large, circular room. Each member of the Squad had their own work nook as well- desks, rolling chairs with personalized cushions, shelves, lamps, and whatever else they felt they needed to work with.

Several of the work stations were already dark- the Squad members were contracted until five o'clock during peak season, in order to get a jump start on toy designs for the next calendar Christmas. There were two, however, that were still lit.

One was an upstart from Greece, a half elf that the previous Santa had found one Christmas Eve, making baklava in a bakery. After persuading the young elf to join him, Santa determined that, rather than placing him in the bakery at the North Pole, Lucas would do better designing.

And so he had. The 'Tickle Me Elmo' craze that had started several years ago was thanks to him. So was the Bumble Ball. And, if memory served correctly, so was those blasted infernal Furbies.

The tall, swarthy elf whistled as he sketched, tossing his erasers as he contemplated the wheels on a remote-control monster truck. His dark hair was pulled back into a short, stylish ponytail that ended just above his equally stylish, frayed chambray work shirt. His face was regal, with a long, straight nose and deep green eyes.

He finally set his pencils down, and reached under his desk to the mini-fridge. He pulled out a Coca Cola and took a long draught. He shuffled his papers into a folder, and stowed them away in a file cabinet next to his desk. He flicked off the overhead lamp before slipping on his coat and scarf, and leaving before Bernard could say hello.

On the opposite end of the tower, a petite blond head was bent over the desk. A large pinboard with scraps of fabric, buttons, ribbons, and a mish-mash of other scraps of paper was placed above the desk, and the shelves that framed the pinboard held file folders, baskets, and what looked like an antique snow globe.

Bernard smiled to himself. He took a photo, then cleared his throat nervously.

Belle kept sketching despite the fact that she knew she had stayed much later than most of her peers. She was working on several different projects, but her latest was a set of dolls that celebrated different heritages and came with matching recipe books. She was just finishing up the one for Mexico- the bright colors of the doll's dress just weren't panning out the way she wanted them to.

She peered up at her pinboard, searching for something that would boost her design.

Instead, she heard a voice behind her, and gave a start.

"Sorry," the owner of the voice said sheepishly.

She whirled around to see who had interrupted her. It was Bernard, the Head Elf. She did a quick mental count and realized that, with the 12 Days of Christmas rule, she should've known he would be stopping in.

"Hello," she said, immediately standing. "Can I get you anything? Did you want to see the designs on file?"

Bernard waved her off. "No, no, just doing the routine check ins," he said dismissively. "Don't mind me." He pulled her chair out and gestured. "Please, sit."

Belle stared at him. "What? Are you going to watch me sketch?"

Bernard paused. "Is that uncomfortable?"

Belle stifled a giggle. "A little." She snapped her fingers, and a second chair, a director's chair, appeared next to her. "Why don't I show you what I've been working on?"

Together, they flipped through her sketchbook. Belle kept up a steady commentary as they unfolded papers, and gingerly worked their way through. There were several napkins, scraps of errant wrapping paper, anything with scribbles and Belle's cramped handwriting were stuck in and around the designs.

He pointed at one of the sketches. "Is that… cocoa?"

Belle blushed. "I didn't have a pen or a pencil, so… I, uh, dunked my finger in my cup?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't want to forget!" she said defensively. "If I don't get my ideas down when I think of something, I lose like, half of it just trying to find a pen!"

Bernard gave a short bark of laughter. It was surprising, really- Belle had worked in the workshop for the last two years, and had never seen the Head Elf laugh. Then again, he was constantly dealing with the nuances of the workshop, meeting with Santa, consulting Curtis, so the fact that she had seen him several times in the past week was nothing short of out of the ordinary.

"Anyway, it's getting late," he said, standing and stretching. He snapped his fingers, and the director's chair vanished again. "Shouldn't you be getting home?"

Belle shook her head. "I'm so close to finishing Miss Mexico," she pleaded. She batted her eyelashes. "Five more minutes, please?"

Bernard couldn't believe it. Here she was, actually asking permission to stay longer… to work. He usually had to beg the elves in Wrapping and Bows to take on overtime hours, especially when Christmas got closer.

"Five more minutes," he finally agreed. He started toward the door. "Good night."

Belle barely waved in response, her head already bent over her sketches again.

The next few days were a blur for Bernard. His duties during the 12 Days of Christmas intensified immensely- the Naughty and Nice Center had round-the-clock coverage, since children around the world tested the limits closer to Christmas; the Kitchen turned out several hundred gingerbread cookies; test runs with the sleigh began on an hourly basis, to make sure that it was in tip-top shape for the big day; the Reindeer Trainers began spending several hours with the reindeer selected for the year's flight training.

The focus this year, given Santa's track record, was emergency protocol, and with good reason- in the five years he'd been on the job, he had completed a total of one Christmas with no hitches, and even that was after a long and very hectic year struggling with his own belief system.

He and Curtis strode through the workshop on their way toward the Reindeer Training Center, located past the stables.

Much to no one's surprise, they were locked in a standoff argument.

"I'm telling you, it's actually proven to be a motivator in the barn!" Curtis was insisting, taking several steps to Bernard's one stride.

Bernard shook his head firmly, sending his riotous dark curls a-dancing. "Children all over the world know the names of only the Nine! Why ruin that magic?"

"Because the majority of the Nine have been retired for the last four hundred years!" Curtis replied haughtily. "Of course, that doesn't include Comet, because it was his FIRST flight that year!"

"Maybe so, but the Nine should be given preference over the younger ones! They know the routes, they know what could go wrong!" Bernard insisted.

They stopped near a pen with an ornate name plate- Spicy.

"Who is in charge of naming reindeer, anyway?" Bernard huffed, pointing at the shiny brass plaque. "Spicy? In what way is this setting a good example for children?"

"But Bernard, Spicy's my favorite!" A small, insistent voice came from inside the pen. Bernard peered through the gate.

Lucy, Charlie's younger sister, sat brushing a very happy-looking reindeer. It was very clear that she was not one of the chosen ones for this year's flight- Lucy had painted her hooves with what appeared to be silver and gold nail polish, and was in the middle of adding purple hair chalk to her antlers.

Spicy seemed to be loving the attention- she nosed Lucy's arm affectionately.

Curtis glared over his glasses at the young girl. "I thought Chet was your favorite," he sniffed.

Lucy turned her face towards the elf, and scowled. "He's ONE of them," she said firmly. "Chet's been chosen for the flight, so he's doing simulator stuff until then. So me and Spicy are doing our nails." She held out her small hand for inspection. Sure enough, her nails were alternating red and green glitter polish.

Curtis nodded dismissively. "Festive," he said. He stared at Bernard. "You let CHET on this year's flight?!"

Bernard narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Santa suggested that by giving him some responsibility, he might calm down! Are you questioning Santa, Curtis?"

The younger elf shook his head quickly.

"I didn't think so. Chet may be a baby, but he did well last year." Bernard paused. "Lucy, can I take your picture with Spicy?"

"Of course!" She smiled. "We love pictures, don't we, Spicy?"

The reindeer nodded her head and grunted.

Bernard fumbled around for his camera. It was probably more of a burden than anything- he had forgotten it in his suite of rooms several days in a row, and the days that he remembered to bring it with him, he didn't take any photos. He wondered with Dr. Kane would say. Their next appointment, much to his chagrin, was scheduled for the following day, where she would review and discuss the film with him. He was not looking forward to it.

"Thanks Lucy!" he said, slipping it back into his vest pocket.

Curtis rolled his eyes. "The flight simulators, then?"

Bernard resisted the urge to slap the younger elf. "After you."

The Simulator Stable was in full frenzy when they arrived. A few reindeer were performing emergency landing procedures, a few were doing trust exercises, and the remainder were working on a navigation course. Elves were stationed all around the course, making notes and communicating through special headsets with microphones.

A rosy-cheeked elf with freckles met them near the entrance. She had brown hair pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, and she wore the same brown trousers, boots, and dark green jacket that the rest of the Simulator Stable hands wore. She, however, also wore suspenders and silver stitching on her jacket that spelled out her name- Bess.

"Hello there!" she smiled. "12 Days of Christmas already?"

Bernard nodded. "Of course."

"Status report?" Curtis butted in, holding up his clipboard meaningfully.

Bess snapped to attention- her posture was more rigid, and she immediately adopted a stance not unlike the American military position with feet apart and hands clasped behind her back. "Yes, sir," she said. "Comet is leading the Navigation Simulation Course with Tinsel, Winkle, and Sprinkle. Chet and Blitzen are doing trust exercises, and Holly, Ivy, and Fern are working the landing procedures."

"Quite the team you've assembled," Bernard said. "Have they all been briefed on the Red Coat Clause?"

Bess stared at Bernard. "Of course," she said, sounding hurt. "As the first and foremost precaution. If Santa should have an accident and we incur a replacement, then they are the ones who will know what to do, not the new guy."

"And everyone has completed their emergency landing procedures?" Curtis pressed.

Bess glared at him. "Finishing now, sir," she said stiffly. She turned her steely gaze to Bernard. "I have every faith that this year's flight will be a no-hitch situation."

Bernard smiled. He put his hand on her shoulder. "That's excellent, Bess, thank you. Make sure your team gets an extra cocoa break- use this card-" –he produced a gold plastic gift card and handed it to her- "-to get cocoa from Pierre's VIP stock."

Bess beamed at him. "Thank you, sir," she said happily. "The team will really appreciate this."

"The only thing left to do is get the updated flight plan up to the ElfCon Security Center by midnight Christmas Eve Eve," Bernard reminded her.

She held up her wrist, which had six watches on it, of all shapes and sizes. "I have alarms set," she said with a smile.

Curtis offered her a rare smile. "Punctual. I like it." He made a note on his clipboard. "We should look into getting Santa a few of these."

The appointment with Dr. Kane came more quickly than Bernard had wanted it to. He had considered skipping it altogether, but then figured that the cheerfully observant woman would have sent out someone to collect him. Or worse, gone after him herself.

"Hello, Bernard," she said softly, twirling a red-feather pen in her fingers. The crystals on her manicured nails glinted in the sunlight. "I trust you've been well?"

"Yes, Dr. Kane, I'm fine. How are you?"

Blue eyes met brown. "I'm perfectly well, thank you. Now, how has your week been?"

"Busy," Bernard answered shortly, an edge behind his words that he instantly regretted. He liked being busy. The season inspired better, more efficient work from the workers, and he wished on some level that he could get this inspiration bottled for the rest of the year. Particularly March. March was always a lull in production.

"And your assignment hasn't been too much of a burden?" Dr. Kane pressed.

Bernard reached into his vest pocket for the camera. He placed it on the edge of her desk. "I did take pictures, like you asked."

"And how did taking them make you feel?"

Bernard sighed. "I don't know," he said, "Like I had to take pictures? Sometimes I had whole days where I forgot to take any."

Dr. Kane's mouth twitched into a smile. "That happens," she said lightly. She picked up the camera. "Bernard, do you remember Simon telling you that this camera was enchanted?"

Bernard nodded. "He said all I had to do was have it out, and it would take care of the rest."

He paused. He realized something. Over the course of the week, he had somehow gone from having the camera out to do its thing on autopilot, to taking it out for specific things he wanted to capture.

"Yes?" There was a twinkle in the good doctor's eye, as if she'd already guessed what had occurred.

"The… weirdest thing happened," he began. "I started not paying attention to the photos it was taking… and then, towards the end of the week, I… did." He looked at the doctor. "Is that normal?"

Dr. Kane's eyes twinkled some more. "Of course!" she said with a grin. "It means it's working!"

Bernard's head was reeling. "What's working, exactly?"

"You're becoming more in tune with the magic!" she said excitedly. She began taking the camera apart.

"What are you doing?" Bernard asked. It came as a surprise to him to be worried about what would happen to the camera. He might have carried it around for a week, but the past few days, it had felt normal to have its weight in his vest pocket… close to his heart.

Weird.

"Taking the film card out," Dr. Kane explained. She got up and bustled over to a bookshelf. Her red skirt swished around her hips as she moved. She took out a miniature projector, and popped the film card into the contraption. Bernard shifted in the red leather chair, so he was facing her.

A projector screen appeared on the undecorated portion of wall.

"Bernard, this camera is more than an auto-pilot camera," Dr. Kane said slowly, turning toward him. "I planted it at Simon's, and asked him to give it to you when you arrived."

Bernard gaped at her.

"While it was equipped with the ability to sense happiness and good cheer, I also formatted it with something else. Something bigger." She paused. "The photos that portray things that are particularly close to YOU, things and people and places YOU are fond of, will show more clearly than those that the camera took on its own. You said that it was the magic that makes the holiday season your favorite. The magic inside you was what guided the camera when it was on autopilot, but some more than others will fit your idea of magic. The better the clarity, the more you feel for whatever the photo is of."

She clicked 'play.'

"Ready to meet your magic?"

A/N: Heyyyyy guys! I'm so, so, sorry that this has taken a million years. Like 'Potential Manipulation,' my other story, I've been keeping a notebook and writing down any and all ideas that come to mind… kind of like Belle's sketchbook, but in one spot and not with napkins. ;) Keep watching for (hopefully, maybe) more! Love the love you guys have given me… better than any magic! Over and out! ~Flyinghawk