Ok so hi again! Got myself into a writing frenzy, and what do you get? Two chapters in one week! Woot!
The Santa Clause 1, 2, and 3: If I owned them would I be here? No! I'd be making a fourth, better movie. This time with Bernard in it. Again.
(Insert usual disclaimers here.)
Also, I've decided to do something new: during random intervals of each chapter, I'm going to post an idea of what Ellington would listen to, especially during the holidays. I'm calling it…
ELLINGTON'S CHOICE!
*echoes*
So…on with the chapter!
Oh, but first:
ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Carol of the Bells, by the Pentatonix.
Enjoy!
5. Wanted: Number Two Girl?
The Council eventually ruled to keep Dottie away from the other girls. Temporarily, of course. For some reason, they didn't think it was best for her to know that she actually was at the North Pole.
Something about 'hostility towards Christmas' and 'the S.O.S."
So instead, Charlie was spending a lot of time with her, hoping to convince her that she hadn't been kidnapped.
It mainly involved lots of flirting, and plying her with cocoa.
Ellington, though sad to learn for certain of her sister's real feelings towards her, was far from surprised. Not that she really had time to be surprised.
She was swamped.
After the whole Curtis/glitter fiasco, she had volunteered all of her spare time to the cause of restoring the Workshop. Yes, restoring.
The whole place had been thrown back. The schedule was destroyed. All of the gifts ruined. Who knew that a little glitter could be so devastating?
The point was, they had to remake the entire year's quota, which was an amazing number of toys, with Christmas being just over two months away.
So Ellington, though only human, was granted authority by Mrs. Claus (when Santa was conveniently in Council) to float from department to department, helping coordinate, sort, clean, cook, redecorate, and generally help out, all the while using her usually disguised people/ big sister skills to encourage the elves from their semi-depressed state back up into their usual air of holiday cheer. That, and bribing the elf in charge of the intercom with cookies to play especially upbeat Christmas songs.
His name was Archie, by the way.
And he had a tooth for Ellington's cookies. They were especially good, even for cookies at the Pole. After all, she'd made them herself.
The funny thing was, she never ran into Bernard.
Which was good, actually; because she probably would have bitten his curly head off.
Ellington had also spoken to Santa (during a brief recess) about Curtis. It had been made very clear just what Bernard thought should be done with the ex-number two, but Ellington had another idea, more in line with what Santa was looking for.
Also, she was notoriously persuasive.
"Send him back to the Pantograph room," she had suggested. "After all, he built that machine; we're going to need his skills to duplicate the few good toys left. That extra boost in production could really make the difference, come the 25th."
Scott was impressed, and convinced. Curtis was sent back to RDS.
But Ellington kept her promise to Carol, and didn't tell Scott what she herself was up to.
And that same day, Curtis came to find her.
Ellington was in Wrapping, directing the removal of glitter from the wrapping paper by playing Parachute, like in preschool. And the elves were loving it. So far, they'd already cleaned 247 rolls, in an hour and a half.
"Denise, that corner's sagging–" Ellington called, over the sound of the elves' laughter . Then, Curtis cleared his throat in the doorway.
The laughing stopped.
"Oh, uh…hi, Curtis," Ellington said, inwardly cursing her awkwardness.
"Hi," Curtis said, looking a little sheepish. "Um…could I have a word with you? In the hall?"
Ellington hesitated. Was he angry? No, he didn't look it. Oh, why not. "Sure."
When they had stepped into the surprising empty hall, Curtis sighed.
Ellington, unsure what to do, sighed too.
Finally, Curtis looked up at her and said, "Thank you."
"Thank you?"
"For talking to Santa." Curtis rubbed his hands nervously.
"Oh, pfff," Ellington said, waving him off. "It was no big deal. Besides, everybody makes mistakes– even if they make more mistakes than most."
Curtis blushed. "Yeah well, if it were up to Bernard, I would have been kicked out of the Pole altogether."
"Hm." Ellington snorted.
Curtis cocked his head. "You're…mad at him?"
"Well YEAH!" Having finally been asked the right question, Ellington's rage just poured out of her. "I mean, look at how he treated you! He humiliated you, in front of God and everyone! I know what it is to be an older sibling– and yes, the older sibling of someone who makes some pretty hideous mistakes–but publicly humiliating is completely unacceptable, even after the thousandth time they annoy you!"
If they were in a cartoon, Curtis' hair would have been blown back. "Wow."
"Yeah." She snorted, and crossed her arms. "So yes, I'm mad at him. Not that he cares, but yeah."
"I think he cares more than you realize," Curtis said carefully. "You…do know that he's locked himself in his room, right?"
"Well no. But I'm not surprised," said Ellington contemptuously. "He's probably all, "OMG, my life is over! Christmas is ruined for sure! And as usual, nothing is my fault!" She stopped, seeing Curtis' odd expression. He was staring at her blankly, and at the same time, with no small amount of alarm. "What? Do I have something on my face?"
"Um…no." Curtis blinked, and shook his head. "I dunno… its weird hearing you say this. I mean, it's like hearing Bernard saying he's mad at Bernard… only you're a girl, and a lot nicer than him on pretty much every count. But you two get along so well…"
Now Ellington just laughed outright. "As if! We argue about everything. He hates everything I like, and the half of the time we're not arguing, he's shunning me!"
"Well, I wouldn't say it's quite that bad."
"Really? Because the looks he gives me, I'm beginning to think I'm morphing into a siren."
Curtis chuckled. "You do realize the sirens were beautiful, right? I think Bernard just isn't used to having a beautiful girl following him around everywhere." He blushed.
Ellington's jaw dropped. As did her stomach.
With unusual courage, Curtis went on. "Also, I think he likes you, and that actually bothers him. Which is why he's so extra crabby with you, because if you think about it, even I manage to get along with him, under normal circumstances. So…yeah. I don't think it's you."
"I see," Ellington said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Thank you, Curtis. That helps a lot. I think I know what I need to do now."
"You're welcome." Curtis' chest puffed. Feeling helpful was helping lift his spirits considerably. He suddenly felt very bubbly inside; so much so that without much thought, he flung his arms around Ellington's middle, and gave her a huge hug. "I'm glad you came, Ellington. You and Annise."
Ellington was shocked for a second; and then slowly, a smile spread over her lips. She gazed fondly down at the mop of blond hair. Come to think of it, he reminded her of her youngest sister a lot. Him and Annise must really get along, she thought. Which, of course, they did.
Curtis froze, suddenly realizing what he'd done. He pulled away quickly, but Ellington just laughed, and smiled down at him sweetly. He blushed again.
He really was such a cute little guy; she was even beginning to feel big sisterly towards him. Even despite the whole elfin age thing. Then, remembering what he'd said about her earlier, Ellington added, "By the way, those were some of the nicest compliments I've ever had. Thank you." And bending slightly at the waist, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
Now Curtis' face turned cherry red. "Uhhh…" He stuttered.
Ellington, about to laugh again, was stopped by the sound of giggling down the hallway.
It was a whole bunch of the distribution elves, all female. Standing, gawking, and giggling at their 'little interaction.'
Oh God no.
Ellington gave them a terrifying look that made them all squeak. "As you were," she commanded. Surprisingly, they all ran off together, down the halls with their packages. Towards their delivery site. Away from what they had just seen.
"Whew," Ellington breathed, when they had gone. "That was close."
Curtis wore a pained expression. "Those elves…" he began.
"Yeah? What about them?" Dread had edged into Ellington's tone. She didn't like the way this was going.
"…Are the worst gossipers in the entire Workshop," Curtis finished.
"Wait…you mean..?"
Curtis gave her a meaningful look.
Ellington looked horrified. "Will they..?"
"Yup," Curtis confirmed, tremulously.
Those elves were doubtless spreading the news all over the Workshop: Ellington had kissed Curtis.
Even if it was only on the cheek.
Oh God.
NO!
As fate would have it, those same elves ran into Judy first. Now; Judy liked to stay a step ahead of any and all news. So naturally, upon seeing their excitement, she knew that they were up to mischief and told them to spill.
"No!" she cried when they told her, even though she knew full well that Ellington would never kiss Curtis–well, not that way–when she was so obviously interested in Bernard.
Well, obvious to Judy, anyway.
The distribution elves ran off to deliver the news along with their packages, whilst Judy took the lunch tray she was carrying and delivered it to...guess who?
"Bernard!" she called, rapping smartly with her knuckles on his mahogany door. "I've brought your lunch. Open up, please!"
"I'm not hungry," a sullen voice grumped.
Judy set a hand on her hip, adopting a motherly tone. "Bernard, either you open this door, or I'll have to pick the lock again." Obviously, not the first time Bernard had pulled this stunt.
A sigh, then heavy footsteps. The lock was flung open.
"Thank you!" said Judy, stepping cheerfully into the room, and closing the door behind her with her foot.
It was dark. All the curtains were drawn. Judy flipped on the light, revealing a horrendous mess.
And a lump under the bedcovers.
Shaking her head, Judy said, "I brought you chicken soup."
"I'm not sick," the lump growled.
"Then stop acting like it," Judy countered. "You've been in here for days. Now, come and eat while it's still hot."
"No."
Judy sighed. She was a patient elf, but Bernard's stubbornness could try a saint sometimes.
Indeed, it had before. Just ask Saint Nicholas.
"Bernard, what's wrong?" She was prepared to listen, if he would talk. Listening was actually one of her best skills.
"What's wrong?!" The lump–that is, Bernard– wriggled angrily under the bedclothes. "It's two months until Christmas, Judy! Two months, and we've got nothing. Not a toy left! Ten months of work, ruined! How are we supposed to come back from that?"
Judy (wisely) said nothing.
"We don't!" Bernard cried. "We don't come back from that. Christmas is ruined," he said brokenly, "and it's all my fault." He burrowed deeper into the sheets.
Judy came up and sat on the bed next to him. "Bernard," she said gently, "It's not all that bad."
"Yes it is," he mumbled, thoroughly miserable.
"No," Judy protested. "It isn't. If you had been up for the past three days, you'd have seen that things aren't as bad as we'd thought. Some of the toys have been salvaged, spot treated… and with Curtis back in RDS, the Pantograph is duplicating at top speed! If the Workshop continues to be managed well, we may just bounce back in time."
"Curtis is back in RDS?!" Bernard said, furious but still refusing to come out. "Who came up with that idea? And 'continues to be managed well'? Who's managing? I've been in here, Santa's busy with the Council, trying to figure out that brat" –Dottie– "that…that thing, out there"–Judy knew he meant the Polar cap, where the ice was still continuing to darken– "and there isn't a Number Two elf!"
"Ellington, on both counts," said Judy.
"Ellington?"
Judy nodded. "Santa put her in charge of cleaning up the mess, after you holed up in here. She's doing…well, a wonderful job. I've never seen things clean up this quickly– and elf morale is up 26 percent!"
"26 percent?!" Bernard snapped. Judy shushed him. "26 percent? That has never–I repeat, NEVER– happened in just three days. What did she do, spike the cocoa?"
With a dubious look, Judy said, "No, Bernard. She did not put liquor into our favorite beverage." She rolled her eyes. "She's just… friendly. She acts like a…a big sister to them, instead of bossing them around all day."
"Are you trying to make me like her less?" said Bernard sourly.
Shrugging, Judy went over to the windows and pulled back the drapes. "No. Everyone else likes her. Whether you like her…or like like her"–Bernard growled–"or don't like her at all is your own business… I guess."
"That's right it is," Bernard muttered, tossing beneath his blankets. "Just like it's my own business if I want to hide from the wicked ways of the world, in the COMFORT OF MY OWN ROOM!"
Another eye roll. Then, as if on cue, Judy had a rather wicked idea herself. "Suit yourself," she said lightly, making her way to the door. She paused, one hand on the doorknob. "Although…"
Wait for it, she thought. Wait for it…
"'Although' what?" Bernard asked flatly. Judy full out grinned. He was so easy to guide.
"Well," she said, somewhat sadly, "If you stay in here much longer, you may not have to choose whether or not you like like her. I heard news that Ellington was seen kissing Curtis outside of Wrapping, not half an hour ago."
The effect was immediate.
"WHAT?!" Bernard roared. He shot upright in bed, the blankets whipping off to reveal wild eyes and an even wilder tangle of curls. "Curtis?!"
Judy turned to face him with a pitying expression, and sighed. "That's what I heard. It's probably all over the workshop by now."
"All over the…" began Bernard. He trailed off, but then asked, "Wait. Was there mistletoe involved?"
"Not from what I heard."
Bernard groaned and rubbed his face. "Oh, burnt gingerbread."
Judy turned to go.
"Judy?"
"Yes, Bernard?" She looked back over her shoulder.
"Get me my clothes. And…is that soup still hot?"
"Yes…and it still will be when you get out of the shower," Judy said, wrinkling her dainty nose. "It smells like something's been hibernating in here…I think it's you."
ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Crystallize, by Lindsey Stirling
Ellington was furious.
And it wasn't just with Bernard, either.
She was sitting alone in the topmost dome of the Workshop. At the end of a long, winding staircase there was a sort of circular deck, with a guardrail that you could straddle and hang your feet down over the edge. A faint warm breeze that smelled like a combination of cinnamon, pine needles, sugar cookies and glue wafted up from the Workshop below, causing her long dark curls to flutter around her lower back. That morning, Judy (whom she had finally met) had come to help her dress. The fashion wise elf had encouraged Ellington to wear her hair down, allowing her naturally curly hair to form the tight ringlets she had always hated. But somehow, with Judy's help, she was beginning to like her hair–especially after the elf had tied part of it back with a dark green satin ribbon. It perfectly matched the outfit Judy had picked for her: a knee-length dress with fluttery sleeves that was belted with a thin black belt with a silver buckle; over white tights worn with black ballet flats. Although Judy herself had done Ellington's makeup, she had kept true to Ellington's classic look: the black mascara to make her light blue eyes pop, the paled skin, and the bright, cherry red lipstick she preferred. "Don't mess with a good thing," Judy had said; and Ellington had agreed. She didn't like to be too adventurous with her makeup. And she was certainly grateful for the face time; a little live interaction was loads better than the silent procuring of a wardrobe like the virtual closet gave.
Ellington really didn't care too much for looks; as long as she could think clearly, she was happy…not that she wasn't thankful when she (as she thought, rarely) looked pretty. Especially nowadays; and even more so when she was angry. She didn't look pretty when she was angry.
Which is a large part of the problem, she thought, swinging her feet high over the working elves below. There was just so much to be frustrated with. Sure, she was livid with the pointy eared hobgoblin (no matter how hard she tried, that branding just wouldn't get out of her head), but besides that she also had Dottie to be angry at. No Christmas spirit, indeed. And also, her father's health to worry about. Though it didn't burden her the way it used to before she came to the Pole, Phillip's terminal cancer nagged in the back of her mind almost constantly. Sandman had told Ellington that he had placed both of her parents in a magical prolonged sleep state: to encourage the restoration of their health, and to keep them from wondering where the girls were. He had given them both an extra long dream, a dream that basically played out a secondary reality; of what would have happened if the girls hadn't gone to the Pole. Which was good, because Phillip and Josette would never know that their daughters had been gone at all. But that was it. So far, the Council hadn't come to any conclusion about what, if anything, could be done for Phillip's health…even though they had a load on their hands with Dottie, Ellington had a suspicion that something else was going on too; an unsettled feeling in her gut–and her gut was only very rarely wrong.
And there was herself to be mad at, too.
Herself?
Yes, herself. Why in the world had she allowed herself to become emotionally attached, however distantly, to Bernard? If one thing had been made clear in the movies, Bernard didn't like to be trifled with; and so far, she couldn't seem to help herself; which wasn't exactly the best combo. He acted like such an uppity b**ch sometimes– but then, so did she, on occasion. It was the subtle similarities that kept her heart hoping for more…even though her mind loathed the idea of a boyfriend, or even a Significant Other. Why couldn't she just turn off that little glimmer in her chest whenever he was near?
Ugh. She even hated how that sounded in her own head.
No, Ellington thought, tucking her feet up under her, things were far from how she wanted them to be. Because like it or not, Ellington knew she wanted him to like her. Not like like her–well, not necessarily–but like her, as a person. As…a friend?
It was stupid, she told herself. So stupid. After all, the first few days had gone well; but then…he'd just, pulled away. Like she often did with others. Ellington had to admit, she didn't like that at ALL. To be on the receiving end of the cold shoulder was another thing entirely; and frankly, she wanted it to end.
Ellington had decided what to do. She must be kind, understanding. No; this wasn't her usual sarcastic strain. But wouldn't she have responded in a similar way if all of the blame for said incident had fallen, ultimately, on her own head? That's right. However, trying to be kind when Bernard had locked himself into his room was easier said than done. So she would continue on with her 'work', and hope that eventually , the news of her and Curtis' 'kiss' would reach him. She figured that that would piss him off so much–for Curtis' sake, of course– that he would have to come out. Maybe then he would see all she had done to make things better, both for Christmas, and for him. Maybe that was really the only way she could be close to Bernard: through work. Pitiful, yes; but if that was all she could have, she was going to take it.
With this settled Ellington rose, just as her new phone, the one the elves used to contact her, went off. She read the text and smiled. Helping the elves made her happy in a way she wasn't used to; it overruled her sarcastic, bitter side and brought out her nicer qualities. Feeling warm inside and glad to be needed, she began the decent back down to the Workshop. The elves in the Naughty and Nice Center needed her help: how were they going to get all of the sticky glitter glue off of the computer consoles?
Ah, all of the things you could use duct tape for.
On the balcony just above the Workshop, Mrs. Claus dragged Santa out to see something she had been waiting to show him. Scott, who had only just gotten out of Council, was still rather preoccupied.
"Carol, what is it?" He said, a bit impatiently. "I'm up to my ears here! I don't have time to admire the view. Especially such a sad one."
Without Bernard leading them, the elves were scattered, careless, and extra noisy. They were busy cleaning up the place, of course; buckets of soapy water and scrubbing brushes abounded in the hands of the Maintenance elves. But without a Head Elf to lead them, they just sort of…milled around, scrubbing this or that carelessly, and looking very alarmed. And adding to the general chaos of the situation, some of the more energetic elves were running around, accidentally tipping buckets of hot water all over the floor yelling things at each other.
"I should probably be down there, sorting this out." Scott said, gazing wide eyed at the commotion below.
"Actually, Bernard should be down there," Carol observed keenly. "But in the case of his…somewhat teenage behavior, yes, you should be. And you would probably be giving a speech on how hopeless everything seems right now."
Scott sighed. "You're probably right."
Carol gave him a sideways look. "I am right. Fortunately, I found someone who is better suited for this kind of situation."
Scott gave her a questioning look. Carol, suddenly burst into a grin, pointing down into the Workshop.
Ellington could be seen, climbing down the last few landings of the staircase.
"Ellington?!" Scott cried.
Carol was surprised. "Really? You heard me say she was future CEO material. We needed someone to help out in Bernard's stead. You were busy, and Curtis is…well, you know. So I picked the next best candidate. Why not make Ellington…?"
"Oh no no," said Scott, shaking a finger at him. "NO! She's just a girl, Carol! A human girl! And you know she and Bernard don't get along well! Why would you set her up for failure like this? Without asking me?!"
"Just watch," Carol said, suppressing a grin. He hadn't seen what she had.
As Ellington reached the bottom of the stairs, one of the elves (whose name happened to be Zach) gave a cry. The rest of the elves halted in their paths, whirled, and rushed to the staircase, yelling things at her that needed to be done, pointing at things that were broken…
Scott's eyebrows rose.
"Keep watching," Carol insisted.
Ellington, holding her hands up above her head, actually got them to fall silent. She pointed to the buckets, then at various walls, and then, at several elves, making groups of them and sending them off to clean up with a smile and a pat on the shoulder.
Then, she instructed some others to remove all the spoilt toys, and to vacuum up the loose glitter. It went on like this, as Ellington doled out jobs to each elf kindly and patiently.
Finally, the floor of the Workshop was buzzing in a pattern similar to its normal flow, and the landing before the staircase was empty. Ellington nodded approvingly at the room in general, and pulled out a phone to speak to someone briefly before shoving it back into her bag. She waltzed over to the Naughty and Nice Center, speaking to the elves on duty and pointing to the consoles, explaining something.
And the atmosphere was back to something similar to the order that normally reined. Orderly, efficient, and cheerful, just as some of the best Christmas tunes began to pour over the loudspeaker. Ellington's head snapped up, and she grinned, pointing and giving two thumbs up to the DJ's booth where Archie was spinning his magic. If possible, the mood grew even brighter, and calmer, as the elves danced happily while scrubbing away the glittery grime.
Santa stared, slack jawed. How had she done it?
Carol looked smug. "Told you."
After several seconds, Scott began to nod. "Yes. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner."
Scott and Carol weren't the only ones watching Ellington's exploits. From behind a large toy sorting machine, Jack Frost saw the talented seventeen year old take control of the elves with utter surety. Something I like in a woman, he thought. And those eyes! Those light, sparkling blue eyes…
Jack knew his time was coming. The girl might not be interested in him now; but Bernard wasn't giving her the kind of attention she was asking for–it was obvious, wasn't it? The way she looked at him when his back was turned, and how she challenged his every word–clearly, it was driving Bernard nuts. And not in an entirely bad way…you didn't have to be Cupid to see that there were some unacknowledged sparks between those two. But Mr. Head Elf was anything but demonstrative, and Ellington couldn't even admit to herself that she liked him. As long as this distance between them continues to grow, Jack realized, it won't be long before I can move in.
In the meantime, it wouldn't be a bad idea to gain some allies. Annise was ruled out immediately: too much of a goody-goody. But that third sister might not be such a bad idea. After all, Jack could use someone with such little Christmas spirit on his side… someone who didn't wish 'those lovely girls' such lovely things. Some close who could be turned against them….
Yes...Jack thought deviously, rubbing his hands together in a very stereotypical way. It's time to learn a bit more about Dorothy.
ELLINGTON'S CHOICE: Holly Jolly Christmas, by Michael Buble
Bernard stormed down the hall, away from his room and towards the Workshop.
I let her out of my sight for two days, he thought, and what do I get? She starts lip-locking with my ex-number two! Dammit, Curtis! You just had to beat me at something, didn't you? He needed to have words with Ellington Connelly.
After asking several rather startled elves, Bernard learned that Ellington was in the Kitchen. His mind still a boiling lava cauldron of rage (and jealousy,) he stormed into the Workshop, making a beeline for the Kitchen.
He paused outside the door. Did he really want to go in there and make a scene?
Why yes. Yes he did.
Bernard flung open the doors…and gaped.
With Ellington's help, the elves had made the most headway in the Kitchen. It was actually back to its original pristine condition, and baked goods were pouring out of its ovens at full speed. Ellington had just stepped in for a few minutes to view the progress when she had gotten caught up with helping catch up on the cake quotas. She had just put another into the side oven when the doors flung open.
Bernard's face was dark. Angry.
Ellington ducked behind some supply shelves.
Though she had irritated him before today, Ellington felt her stomach tighten. She hated seeing him angry. Why could he just be pleased? They had accomplished so much in his absence.
The elves, equally disturbed, froze. No one breathed.
But after a few seconds of glaring at the room around him, Bernard's expression shifted into one of disbelief. He gazed around the room in awe, taking in the sight of all of their hard work.
"Who did this?" he asked, confused. Even though he knew, it seemed like too much to believe. One, human girl couldn't manage all of this…could she?
Seeing his façade soften, Ellington got an idea. Walking quietly over to the nearest cake (which happened to be a rich, chocolate on chocolate glazed number she had made herself,) she cut a slice, and set it on a plate. Then, grabbing a fork and all of her courage she stepped out and strode lightly down the row of elves. Ellington walked right up to Bernard and put the plate into his hands, with her kindest, most innocent expression. She gave him a small, sweet smile. "Well, you were busy."
YAAAAAAAAAY! I met my own deadline. *smiles happily*
OMG! What will Bernard's response be? Will Jack continue to be creepy? WTF is going on with the Unknown? We'll see what happens in Chapter 6…I've got most of it written up but not typed, and my original manuscript didn't have Jack in it, so I'm having to adjust as I go.
I'd like to float an idea by you guys: I'm considering doing a message-board style fic for this story. What do you think? Would you read the random cyber drabbles of Ellington and the other characters of The Emissary Clause? Let me know!
All the Best to you and yours,
-Ana