Taking a Break
When Bernard returned to work, there was the distinct sensation of being watched. As the head elf with hundreds of years of experience, Bernard knew how quickly rumors traveled around the North Pole, yet leaving Santa's office, he knew full well the start of his conversation with the Clauses about not taking a break was out in the open.
"They aren't wrong either," Bernard thought to himself as he left Santa's office, fighting back the urge to sigh, particularly when other elves were looking at him, reminding him the other Christmas Elves were all under a thousand years old. He felt the corner of his mouth twist slightly, watching the two elves pass him. "There's just one small problem."
Bernard turned, setting out to find that particular small problem, his mind already dreading the conversation with the said problem as rumors likely made their way to the source of one of Bernard's headaches which in turn meant—
"Shouldn't you be on break or something?"
The head elf felt his entire body stiffen upon hearing those words leave the mouth of Bernard's particular small problem that he eventually found a few hours later in one of the magical boiler rooms. He rocked back on his feet, trying to take as firm of a tone as he could, yet already Bernard felt a headache coming on. "Curtis."
"It's in The Santa Handbook, you know," Curtis said, continuing to read the book before him, sitting on the floor with a few tools near him.
Bernard glanced around, feeling his voice strain. "I know—Curtis, please tell me you're not trying to improve something yet again?"
"You know, yet here you are," Curtis said, ignoring the original question.
"And you know I wouldn't be having this problem in the first place," Bernard said.
"If what?" Curtis said, turning to look at him, frowning, interrupting the elf who held a great deal of seniority over him, which was one of the problems. Without batting an eye, he said. "Even I know to schedule myself time off."
"Curtis," Bernard said firmly, his hands falling to his side as he let out a deep breath of frustration at the discourtesy of interrupting him done by the only other elf in his division currently.
Curtis pushed up his thin wire frames, his eyes narrowing at the elf, his immediate supervisor. "Seriously? We both know that if another Christmas Elf weren't, you would so be all over them for it."
Bernard grimaced, his mouth tightening and his hands lifting, making a move in the air of wanting to physically strangle Curtis, letting the younger elf know he was frustrated with him, as Curtis had a bad habit of purposefully not reading the given situation.
One of Curtis' eyebrows shot up. "I don't know why you're getting frustrated at me for pointing out the truth."
"Curtis, could you stop interrupting me for once?" Bernard said, hoping that would clarify where his frustration was coming from. And then he winced as his hands lowered, one of his eyes closing from the sensation of the magic in the air starting to crackle in a way that indicated—well, nothing ever good. He sucked in his breath and said, "Please."
"Oh."
"Can I trust you to take care of things while I take a break?" Bernard asked, glancing away, his stomach not liking how the magic in the air was feeling, his head turning as his eyes didn't focus on what was happening there. He tucked his hands behind his back, closing his eyes, regarding both the Clauses as being right about him taking a break if he could feel his magic spiking as it was.
"That's all?"
Bernard's eyes snapped open, his jaw dropping as he saw Curtis raise an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean, that's all?"
"I'm number two, so of course, that means you can trust me to take care of things. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?" Curtis said, grinning ear-to-ear.
"What could possibly go wrong?' Bernard said, his tone becoming cold. "Really?"
The smile on Curtis' face dropped, his mouth forming a pout. "I really don't know why you're acting like you can't trust me."
"Oh really?" Bernard said, letting an eyebrow grow up. "And what about the plastic Santa Incident?" He watched Curtis' jaw drop. "You know, where you created a plastic Santa who took over the North Pole while Santa was gone?"
"That was one time!" Curtis protested. "One time in my 900 years of ever making a mistake!"
"That was the same year you weren't paying attention to an elf-con one alert, remember?" Bernard said, watching the younger elf swallow. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. "I can't go on break if I can't trust you not to cause trouble, do you understand?"
"Oh," Curtis said with a huff. "That's what you meant by you wouldn't be having this problem in the first place? That…."
"Curtis," Bernard said firmly. "Please? For my sanity?"
The younger elf swallowed, glancing to the side. "Fine. I promise to take care of things while you're taking a break. Elf's honor."
"I'm going to hold you to that," Bernard said, and then he teleported from the room to the front of his home in the elf village near Santa's workshop. He swallowed, before heading to the front door, twisting the doorknob and letting himself in. He watched the lights flicker on, the Christmas lights strung along the room's ceilings year-round, which were part of the magical wards preventing him from sleep teleporting.
The head elf closed the door behind him, sighing, reaching a hand up to rub his shoulder as he took in the home that had once belonged to his and Mindy's parents, still decked out with all the Christmas decorations. His mouth twisted into a smile. "I really should dust the place, although I know that's not what Santa meant by taking a break."
He walked over to a shelf, the corner of his mouth twisting up at the sight of his set of the Christmas stories that Charles Dickens wrote; the redness of the covers had not faded with time, having been well cared for ever since one of the previous Santa gave him the set. His finger reached out, ready to read one of the books, when he paused, frowning. " Wait. That was too easy. "
Bernard could already feel himself relax, the magic around him no longer crackling, threatening to go off. He sighed, his fingers lowering, knowing as the head elf that the wards only prevented the magic from going off, from his own magic, specifically of wrecking some kind of havoc while he slept. The feeling of his magic being unsettled only ever going away with time, or more specifically, Bernard getting the rest he needed. Which meant—
"Curtis."
Bernard sighed, turning to head back out the front door before teleporting back to where he came from, making sure to teleport outside the boiler room, hoping his teleporting out hadn't already messed things up even more. He pushed open the door, stepping inside, his mouth twisted into a firm line.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Curtis startled from where he sat on the floor, one of the tools now in his hand dropping with a metal clang. He placed a hand over his heart. "Don't scare me like that."
"Curtis."
"It's fine, Bernard," Curtis said, returning to read the book. "You're supposed to be on break."
"It's not fine," Bernard said firmly.
"No. Seriously, I've got this handled," Curtis said.
"Uh, no," Bernard continued to say. "You don't have this handled, particularly when you know full well you're banned from tinkering with things."
"It's in the manual," Curtis said, holding the book up. "And you're supposed to be on break," Santa's number two, as Curtis liked to call himself, said.
Bernard frowned. "That was before I realized what you were up to."
"I didn't mess up the boilers!" Curtis protested, his eyes wide, holding up the book again, losing his place while not recognizing how the magic in the air bristled. Most Christmas Elves wouldn't notice without looking at the gages on the boiler. "I'm really not trying to do anything to cause problems, Bernard. I'm trying to help, to make your job easier!"
The head elf lowered himself to one knee, smiling. "I know." With one hand, he reached out and ruffled the top of Curtis' head. "I know you mean well, Curtis, but there's a reason why only Santa and I are tasked with this kind of thing, so that means coming and getting Santa or me, right?"
"Well, yes," Curtis muttered.
"So, go get Santa for me?" Bernard said.
"Uh, yes," the younger Christmas Elf muttered, hurrying to do what Bernard said, much to Bernard's relief.
The moment Curtis left, Bernard locked the door behind him, swallowing, turning to look at the magical boiler as he rolled up his sleeves. "Should have known, finding only Curtis in here like that. And the tools."
He took a step forward, hearing a knock on the now-locked door. "Hold on. Bernard!"
"I said to go and get Santa, Curtis," Bernard said firmly, chuckling as he felt sick in the pit of his stomach.
"Bernard!" Curtis continued. "You wouldn't lock me out if you thought it safe for me to be in there!"
The head elf took a deep breath, his magic feeling out he was right in, not letting Curtis remain in the room. He let out a chuckle, turning to look at the door. "Why do you never notice what we want you to and always notice what we don't want you to? Go and get Santa, Curtis."
"Bernard! Don't talk like that!" Curtis said on the other side.
The smile fell from Bernard's face as he started turning back to the boiler, feeling out with his magic what he needed to do.
Except—
Bernard felt himself slam against the far wall as the magical boiler exploded.
