This fic is a request from Phoenix on AO3! I hope this turned out how you hoped it would. I got a little carried away! Thanks again for the suggestion :)

The elves cheered as the sleigh descended from above ground. Even Bernard seemed pleased by how smoothly the night had gone given how under the wire everything had been with the Mrs. Clause. Charlie was home now and Santa Scott was alone. Alone, but he was beaming. No doubt it was because his new bride was waiting for him in the crowd.

"Welcome back, Santa," Abby said, approaching the sleigh.

He tweaked her cheek. As the other elves swarmed around him, he scanned the crowd for Carol. Finally, he saw her trying to push through the crowd.

"Merry Christmas," Scott said when they finally met up with each other.

"Merry Christmas." Then she laughed.

"What is it?"

"I still can't believe all of this is real. I was sure I was going to wake up by now."

"I know how you feel. It took me an entire year to finally accept it myself."

"How did all of this happen? Charlie said something about another Santa falling off your roof, but how did that lead to you becoming him?"

Cupping her cheeks, he said, "I promise that I will explain everything." He eyed Bernard who he realized had been hovering. "…When we're alone."

"Sorry Santa, but you can't leave on your honeymoon until we work out a plan."

"What are you talking about?" Scott said. "I always take some time off through March."

"Yes, but you're usually here or available," Bernard said. "Not to mention you just missed the busiest month of work. We have to fix everything the toy Santa broke."

Scott sighed, casting an apologetic glance toward Carol.

"It's okay," she said, though there was an evident disappointment in her tone.

Squeezing her hand, he said, "The sooner I take care of all that needs to be taken care of, the sooner we can start the honeymoon."

She nodded.

"Have you thought of someplace to go?"

"I'm at the North Pole. How do you expect me to think of a more desirable destination?"

Scott grinned. "You're going to be the perfect Mrs. Claus."

"I hope so."

"Are you through?" Bernard said, tapping his watch.

"Think about it," Scott said. "Might I suggest taking a little time to put everything in order back home?"

Carol's face turned serious. "I didn't think about that. My job… my parents!"

"Oh boy," he mumbled, looking between her and Bernard. "Okay, well, that's another discussion for later I guess. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. We'll celebrate Christmas together and figure all this stuff out."

Uneasily, Carol agreed.

. . .

"I can't believe you're making me do all of this on Christmas."

"Do you really want a repeat of this Christmas in 365 days?"

"I don't think that's possible. Although, if you don't let me spend some time with Carol maybe it will be. You and Curtis were the ones who told me I had to get married. I did as I was told, now you won't let me spend time with her?"

Bernard groaned. "The less you complain about it the quicker we'll be done. You can see the damage toy Santa did."

Brushing soot off of his clothes, Scott said, "Just a bit."

"Ah, come on. Let him go see Mrs. Claus," Curtis said. "This is nothing the elves can't take care of on our own."

Bernard held his finger up. "You're lucky you're not out of the job for this. I knew we never should have tried this!"

He rolled his eyes. "I said I was sorry."

"There's no blame here," Scott said. "It was all bad timing that led to pressured, ill-thought-through decisions. Yeah, it's a mess, but everything worked out, huh? I found an amazing woman to be my wife, we defeated the toy Santa and his tin soldiers, and the gifts were delivered on time. I even sorted things out with Charlie. Everything is fine. Unless you're going to tell me there's another clause."

"Not yet," Bernard mumbled.

"What's that?"

"Forget it. Let's at least get these big lumps of coal taken care of. You're the tallest here. It'll take any of the elves twice as long."

"Fine," Scott caved. "But after this, I'm going back to Carol."

"Fine."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Scott muttered as he turned toward the pile. "I mean, we had a room full of Legendaries here last night, I don't see why everyone just pushed the mess aside— OW!"

"Santa!" Curtis shouted, rushing to his side.

Scott was on the ground, shaking his head trying to process what happened.

Bernard crossed his arms. "That's why."

The pile of coal had crumbled on top of Scott, a particularly large piece trapping one of his feet.

"Are you okay?" Curtis asked.

"Fine I think," he answered, sitting up as much as he could. "I guess you were right. One of the elves might have been suffocated by this."

Bernard came over now, helping Curtis unbury Scott and then helping him onto his feet.

"All right, this might be a one Santa, two elf job. But where do we put it."

"Just a thought but… the furnace?" Curtis answered.

Narrowing his eyes, Scott replied, "All of this? Sure yeah. That's practical."

"Let's at least get it outside for now."

Scott stepped forward, another snide remark at the ready. Instead, he winced as he put weight on the foot that had taken the brunt of the avalanche.

Bernard caught him before he toppled over. "What is it?"

"My foot."

"Should I get the doctor?" Curtis asked.

"Nah… no. No, it should be all right in a minute. Just a kink probably."

Bernard rolled his eyes. "You get kinks in your neck, not your feet. I told you this was an accident waiting to happen."

"We've established that. Let go of me. I'm sure if I favor it for a while it will be fine."

Bernard let go, but Curtis nervously held his hands out in case Scott stumbled again. Which he did.

"I'm getting the doctor," Bernard said with a mix of irritation and concern.

"Okay…" Scott said through his teeth. "Okay, yeah. I should probably see the doctor."

. . .

"Well, it's not broken," Dr. Hismus said.

"What is it then?"

"Bad sprain. The bruise is from the impact of the coal."

"When will I be able to walk?"

"Couple weeks maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Could be more."

"What are your qualifications again?" Scott asked.

"It's nothing to be concerned about. Just keep off it and you'll be fine."

"I'm supposed to be leaving for my honeymoon!"

Dr. Hismus clicked his pen. "I advise you to wait."

"I only get so much time off. I've barely seen Carol since we said 'I do'. Not that I've spent much time with her before then, but that's another can of worms."

"I'm sure she will understand."

Scott shook his head. "No, no. I've already put her through so much. There are affairs she needs to put in order. I'm not sending her back to Chicago alone to do that."

"I saw the way you hobbled in here. You're bound to slip on the ice."

Attempting to stand, Scott said, "I'll be just… fine."

Dr. Hismus sighed but knew anything he said would only continue to be met with stubbornness. "I'll tell Mrs. Claus you're on your way?"

"Absolutely not," Scott said quickly. "Today is supposed to be the happiest day of her life. I've already missed most of it. If she knows I'm hurt she'll insist on staying here."

"And she would be correct."

"I'm sure it will be much better tomorrow. Look—" he stood up straight with his arms out. "Already I can stand without help."

"And how much pain are you feeling?"

Beads of sweat trickled down his face. "That's not important."

Dr. Hismus shook his head. "If you insist on doing this, at least take it easy and be careful. Also don't be surprised if you prolong the healing process."

As Scott dragged himself out of the sitting room, he said, "Everything will be fine."

. . .

"There you are," Carol said the second Scott walked through the door. "I was worried you'd forgotten I was here."

"Hardly," he said, his voice strained. It had been a long walk, but at least he'd been able to limp his way back to his living quarters. Now he had to bear and walk through the pain so Carol didn't find out. "I'm so sorry. I was held up."

She went to hug him but stopped once she noticed his suit. "Where were you? Stuck in a chimney? You're filthy!"

"That toy Santa's coal… kind of messy."

"But it's all taken care of now?" she asked hopefully.

"For now," he answered.

Standing on her toes so as not to risk getting the soot on her own clothes, she kissed his cheek. "Then I take if your three months off start now?"

"Guess so," he forced a smile. "And I know some of that time needs to be spent back in Chicago. I know there's still a lot to talk about. I'm sorry I've been gone most of the day. This isn't how I wanted to spend our first Christmas together, let alone our first day as husband and wife."

"I'll admit I was a little upset when you didn't come right back, but I did see the chaos yesterday. I'm just glad everything is okay now."

Forgetting the pain he was in for a moment as he gazed at his bride, a genuine smile appeared. "More than okay."

Taking his hand, Carol said in a low voice, "Come on, you should get out of those clothes…"

Scott smirked, but as soon as he stepped forward with her, it was all he could do to keep from screaming.

. . .

"Are you all right, Scott?"

They were getting ready to leave for the 'real world' as Scott called it. Carol had noticed something off in him all day – all night, really. They stayed up for hours talking, and the longer the night wore on, the more fatigued he appeared to be. She didn't get the sense that it was from lack of sleep.

She didn't question it right away. After all, she hardly knew him on a day-to-day basis. Maybe this was just his personality. But then she remembered the way he acted at the party, understanding now that he'd used up his limited magic just so a room full of strangers would have a good Christmas. Would Santa Claus really be crabby?

"Just fine," Scott said with a chipper huff. "Just fine."

"You're not upset with me for anything, are you? I know I kept carrying on last night about how much I'll miss the school and my parents and everything, but I didn't mean for it to sound like I'm not happy to be here. This is better than anything I could have ever dreamed of."

Softening, Scott said, "No, I don't think that at all. I know this happened fast. Honestly, you've taken everything a lot better than I thought you might."

"What about for you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything happened quickly for you, too. From what I understand you didn't have much time to consider this marriage clause or whatever you call it. Did you want to get married? Did you choose me because I was the first woman you saw?"

Scott sighed, though was relieved by the serious conversation so he could sit down. Taking Carol's arm and pretending to lead her to the couch, he said, "No, I didn't have it in my head to get married. Mostly because I've been the only human at the North Pole up 'til now. And no, you weren't the first woman I saw."

Carol was surprised by this. "Oh?"

"There were a couple of miserable blind dates."

"What made you choose me?"

"I saw a softer side to you… the way you stood up to those men in the park and defended the kids. But you also called the one of them out for shaving his legs, and that's when I knew I wanted to get to know you more."

She laughed.

"I liked you. I knew it was risky pursuing you with such a limited timeframe. I didn't think it would be easy."

"I'd assumed you thought I was cold and unfeeling," she said sadly. "Most people do."

"Because you don't let your guard down enough. Once you told me that story about your childhood Christmases, I understood it wasn't the holiday you hated. It was the hurt."

Refusing to let herself tear up, she took a breath and said with a lighter tone, "Well, that doesn't matter much now, does it? You and I are here together now. I guess I'm a bit nervous, that's all. Worried that you were feeling trapped even if I wasn't the one doing the trapping."

Scott touched her cheek. "You're the best thing to happen to me in a long time. It does get lonely up here sometimes. The elves are terrific company, but their companionship isn't the same as a spouse."

"I really am glad to be here."

"I'm glad."

"There's only one request I'd like to make…"

His brow furrowed. "What's that?"

Leaning in and speaking in almost a whisper, she said, "Can we get that puppet show out of the bedroom?"

Scott roared with laughter. "Is that why you wouldn't come near me? I thought it was wedding night jitters or the gaining two hundred pounds that turned you off."

She nodded, blushing a bit.

"I never even thought about it. I've gotten used to them over the years."

"They're charming, I'm sure… in any other room."

"I'll put a request in before we leave. Hopefully it will be taken care of by the time we get back."

"It better be," she said, patting his arm, "otherwise you better make the most of this honeymoon."

"Ah, well, then let's not waste any more time. Are you ready to go?"

"I have nothing to pack. I came here with the Tooth Fairy, remember?"

"That's right. We'll have to figure a way to get your things up here."

"And sell my house."

"Guess we're honeymooning in Chicago."

She thought for a moment. "Laura and Neil know about this Santa Claus thing, don't they? Do you think they'd be willing to help?"

"Why didn't I think of that?" Scott said with relief. "Of course they would."

Carol seemed relieved as well.

"All right then. I'll talk to Bernard about this puppet thing then I'll meet you back here and we'll be on our way."

"I'll be waiting," she said with a smirk.

Scott was filled with dread at the thought of standing, especially with her paying so close attention to him. Preparing for the pain, he took a breath and decided to get it over with in one sweep.

"Oh!" he flinched once he was up.

Carol shot up as well and grabbed his arm. "Scott, what's wrong?"

"Phew," he said, trying to brush it off. "You know when you stand up too quickly sometimes and you feel lightheaded? That's it. Guess I'm still getting used to my Santa body again."

"If you're sure you're all right…"

"Peachy," he said, not believing his choice of words.

She wasn't sure she believed him but let him go, watching him as he left.

Had he always walked funny?

. . .

Carol was glad that becoming Mrs. Claus hadn't completely erased her life in Chicago as she feared it would. She didn't yet understand how this Legendary status worked. She supposed it had been a needless worry given Scott still came to visit Charlie, but the thought had been there.

It felt good to be home, even if the days were numbered. But it was also a strange feeling because she found as she started going through what she might want to bring back to the North Pole with her that there wasn't much that she cared to save. Some trinkets and mementos, sure, but what else did she need?

Scott kept to the couch the rest of the day once they'd arrived. Carol continued trying to figure out what might be bothering him. The best she could come up with was that he'd exhausted himself with Christmas deliveries. Even so, Curtis had explained the continuum to her. He shouldn't feel particularly tired. Not with all the magic involved.

What bothered her more than his mood was that despite everything, he didn't trust her enough to be honest. She didn't need to know him well to know that he was uncomfortable. Whether it was mental or physical, that she couldn't determine.

"What about those books?" Scott asked, pointing to the shelves in the corner of the living room. "Want any of those?"

"Do you think there's room in the sleigh?"

"I brought the sack, remember? If it can fit toys for kids all over the world, it can fit a few dozen books."

"There are more upstairs."

"Don't tell the reindeer."

She chuckled, walking over to the bookcase. "Maybe I'll have some time to finally read some of these. I've let work get in the way of my recreation time."

"Do you know what you're going to say to them yet?"

She didn't reply, busying herself with the books.

"Carol?"

"I heard you. It's not something I've wanted to think about."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right." She paused to take a breath. "Nobody is going to believe that I got married."

"Tell them that I'm Santa, then they'll believe the marriage thing."

"I'd rather them think I abandoned my job for a man, not that I've lost my mind."

"Fair enough," he said.

"Would you mind helping me with these?" She turned to scope out an empty box. When she spotted one, she pointed. "Bring that one over. I should be able to fit most of them."

Scott looked at the box across the room and then back to Carol on the other side. "There's not… one maybe behind here or something?" He sat up and looked behind the sofa. "Something I could toss to you?"

"Are you seriously not going to help me?"

"No, no," he said quickly. "I'll help you. Of course."

He dragged himself up, got the box, and then handed it to Carol as fast as he could manage. She didn't reach for it, only gave him a cold stare.

He glanced behind him. "This is the box you meant, isn't it?"

It took her a moment to answer. "Whatever you're trying to hide from me, Scott, you're doing a lousy job of it."

Playing dumb, he said, "What? Hiding something? I think you've had a little too much eggnog."

"I might not know you as well as most wives know their husbands but I know when I'm being lied to. Are you forgetting that I spend most of my time keeping high schoolers in line?"

"Everything is fine, Carol. I promise."

"See, I still don't believe you."

Scott sighed. He was out of arguments. "I'm going to use the restroom. Which door is it?"

"Upstairs on the right," Carol said, turning back to the books.

"Up…stairs, upstairs?"

"How long did you say you'd been living at the North Pole again?"

"You don't have one downstairs?"

Turning back, she said, "You can slide down chimneys all night but you can't be bothered to climb a few stairs?"

He gave a nervous laugh.

"I give up." She dropped the box. "If all you want to do is laze around don't let me get in the way."

"Carol, wait—"

Going for the stairs herself, she said, "This is a great way to start a marriage – with complete disinterest."

"Carol, I swear to you, this has nothing to with—OW!"

She swung around, gasping when she realized Scott had tripped on the bottom step. "Scott! Are you okay?"

"All right, all right, all right." His teeth were clenched. "You were right. Something is bothering me."

"Tell me," she demanded.

"It's my foot," he whined. "I hurt it back at the North Pole. I can hardly walk."

To his surprise, Carol gave his shoulder a shove. "And you refused to tell me?"

"The doctor told me to keep off it. I knew if I told you you'd insist on staying put."

"Of course I would have! Scott, you might have been doing more damage trying to hide it."

"I know, it was stupid. Can you please help me up and bring me over to the couch? I'm never going to make it up those stairs."

Carol obliged, letting him take his time as he hopped back across the room. She didn't say anything else until he was sitting with his foot propped up.

"Maybe you should have a doctor here look at it. You probably twisted it on the step."

"It'll be fine."

"You know, that word is becoming less and less significant every time you say it."

"Haven't I been punished enough for one day?"

"I just don't believe you. Here I was thinking you didn't want to be around me or were regretting something or—"

"I thought we cleared all that up back at the North Pole," he interrupted, squeezing her hand. "I love you, Carol. My only regret is trying to move a mountain of coal from the bottom up."

"We could have postponed the honeymoon," she said.

"Yes, but we still needed to come here to settle your job and the house and everything else. At least we're here. I'm just sorry for not being much help."

"Forget about it. What's more important is that you do what you need to get better. Did the doctor say how long it will take?"

"A couple of weeks at least."

"That's not so bad. It gives me time to stay here and hire a replacement. Get a realtor. That way people won't think I've been placed in witness protection or something or other."

"That's another thing we need to do. Get the cover story straight."

"Up until now, I've been under the impression that you're a toy maker."

"It's not a complete lie. The location is the only thing that has to change. Say Canada or something. Somewhere cold."

"That's not so unbelievable. My parents will buy it."

"And people at school?"

"After the Secret Santa you hosted they won't question a thing."

Scott smiled. "Yeah, that was good, wasn't it?"

She nodded as she bent down to kiss him.

With a hum, Scott muttered, "That's another thing."

Pulling back, Carol questioned, "What's another thing?"

"No puppet show in your bedroom," he winked.

With a slight grin and roll of her eyes, she said, "First you need to be able to get up the stairs."

"I'll crawl."

She laughed as she stood. "Not before you get some ice on that foot. I don't like how much it's swelling."

"You're going to insist on taking care of me, aren't you?"

"Absolutely. I can't believe you've been walking on it all this time."

"Yeah, can't say I'm disappointed that I don't have to do that anymore."

"I don't want any secrets between us no matter how small. I meant it when I said I was prepared to be Mrs. Claus. I want to play my role no matter what it entails."

"It's a sprained ankle, not a lost limb."

"Scott…"

"All right. No more secrets from you."

"Good," she smiled. "I'll go get that ice."

Scott smiled as well as he leaned his head back against the couch cushion. Already this marriage was so unlike his first one. What was it Charlie had called it? A feeling in the pit of his stomach? Whatever it was, that's how he felt with Carol. He wanted to take comfort in that feeling and not do anything else to risk it. When she returned with the ice he was still smiling, wishing Bernard and Curtis had shown him the Mrs. Clause sooner.

"You're sure you're all right?" Carol asked, appearing bashful under his unwavering gaze.

"Never better."