Santa Sofia

Christmas was a time of the year, when people out of blue felt the urge to spend time together, celebrate and act like they were all sooo good friends and cared sooo much for each other. What a farce, most of the time on one of these Christmas parties, you ended up sitting next to a person, you couldn't stand at all and wouldn't want to share dinner with, if you had a choice. They all met at this Christmas buffet: the bootlicker, the office slut, the one, who had to tell family Christmas stories to everybody, who wanted and or didn't want to hear them. Worst of all, you sat right next to them or close enough to hear every word they said.

Sara didn't hate many things more than this forced meeting with people, she spent most hours of her days with anyway. Why wasn't she allowed to go home on time? There weren't many chance to do so in Las Vegas, especially not around Christmas, when people seemed to get even crazier than they were the rest of the year. She could be on her couch, reading a good book, listen to some good music - not this kitschy junk they play every year. How often could somebody listen to 'Last Christmas' before he or she committed a justifiable homicide? And yes, they all knew it was Christmas time, the radio told them since five weeks at least once every hour.

"Oh, I thought Grissom would be our Santa. You know, like a huge surprise for all of us." Greg said and sat next to Sara. At least it was Greg, who sat next to her and not…Ecklie. Although she could slap him for the topic. It was the only topic, that was worse than Christmas.

"I don't think he's into this…" Shit. "Party stuff." And he wasn't in town, he was…she had no idea, but he was gone and they hadn't been in contact for a while. Luckily it wasn't office gossip. Yet.

"Not, not really. Just like you. Smile, it doesn't hurt and it makes you look younger."

Did he call her old? Or did he say, she looked old? Well, she felt old and…caught in a trap, a Christmas trap.

"Let's welcome Santa." Catherine, who visited them for this special evening, had taken care of the program and seemed to enjoy it in her white dress with wings on her back. An angel, the Christmas angel. Gosh, what a horrible idea if they had expected everybody to dress up in any kind of Christmas costume. Sara was glad Cath visited them, found some time for her old colleagues, but why did she have to organize a Christmas party? Dinner would have been more than enough. In Sara's eyes. How could they talk about what was going on in theirs lives, when everybody talked only about Christmas and the holidays.

Somebody in a Santa Claus costume came into the room and sat on a big chair, Catherine had dragged there before. You have to leave it to her, she got all the details.

"Here's Santa, he knows who was good and who was bad. Get ready for the presents; or the punishment."

Great, somebody had written stories about them and now whoever was Santa would read them out loud, embarrass the person so the rest had fun. She should have another glass of wine. On TV she saw once a glass, that could hold a whole bottle, she needed one of them. Now and full.

One after another was called to the Santa, got a present and a slap on their backside for a sin, everybody laughed about. When it was Sara's time she felt like she was in a nightmare and had no chance to wake up. Why did she not call in sick? Or stumble on her way to the small stage and break her leg. Yes, that would be ironic, break a leg on her way to the stage. Ho, ho, fucking ho, ho.

Santa petted on his lap, wanting Sara to sit down. Did she really have to? Reluctant she sat down, mostly because she wanted to know, who was hidden behind the costume. Who was crazy enough to do this?

Blue eyes sparkled at her. Was that really…?

"Sofia?"

"Santa." It was the blonde. Sara recognized the voice now.

"Why are you wearing this costume?" Did Sofia have no dignity left? Or did somebody force her to be a part of this show? Was it a favor for Cath?

"I'm Santa, my child."

Whatever. "Okay, lets get over with it. Say what you have to say and then I can go back to the table." The sooner she could leave, the sooner it was over.

"Smile Sara."

The next one, who told her to smile. She hated this party, why pretend she was happy and having fun? "Why?"

"Because you can't kill them all, but you might irrigate them enough so they run into a bus."

Now that made Sara smile. "Not very nice words, Santa Sofia."

"They made you smile, it's all I wanted. Get ready for the stories and don't forget, irritate them."

Sara really smiled through the story. Catherine had written down two incidents of work, one which made Sara feel like a fool, one that wasn't that bad. Whoever told her former colleague made sure, the audience had fun. Nevertheless she was glad when the stories were over and she was allowed to go back to her place, wondering if Santa really slapped her ass when she got up or if she made that up.