Chapter Two – You're in the middle of the ride

As Molly slowly began to regain consciousness, the first thing she became aware of was the faint sound of Christmas music in the background. The next, was two male voices, talking hushed above her.

"She's waking up," the one voice said, sounding oddly familiar.

Molly groaned, and opened her eyes, sitting up slowly as her fuzzy vision cleared. Her head felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

She blinked her eyes closed tightly.

"Are you okay?" the familiar voice asked her.

"I think so," she muttered, then opened her eyes again.

As her gaze landed on the man with the familiar voice, she began immediately to doubt her own sanity. Curly, black hair, a green beret, and pointy ears. She blinked again, mouth dropping open in surprise. There, in front of her, was Bernard from The Santa Clause.

"Yes, I am an elf," Bernard said slowly, glancing over at the other male in the room. Apparently, he thought she was merely in shock about an elf.

She glanced over at the other male, who turned out to be none other than the red-haired Dr. Hismus. She looked back at Bernard, who was watching her cautiously, waiting for a reaction.

"Duhh," was all she could manage to say. She pinched herself in the arm to make sure this wasn't a dream. The pain was real… and she didn't wake up. So that possibility was out of the question.

The next possibility that crossed her mind terrified her to no end. It was the only semi-logical solution she could think of. She had somehow managed to become trapped in the body of a perfect, gorgeous OC in someone else's high school obsession Fanfic.

She waited a moment for some strange force to make her start screaming and going ga-ga over Bernard. Not that she didn't find him highly attractive, but that kind of childish behaviour had been long past her.

When the screaming didn't come, she glanced down at her body, half-expecting to see it now some perfectly shaped into a model-esque phsyique.

Nope. It was still her slightly plump, disproportioned figure. She reached up and touched her hair… shuddering at how messy it felt. Whatever had happened to her, probably left her looking like she had been hit in the face with a train… twice.

So if it wasn't a dream, and she hadn't been transported into some scary Fanfic trapped in someone else's body, there was only two possible explanations: either she was really there, or she had completely lost her grip on reality.

Clearing her throat, she looked once again at Bernard, who was staring at her as if the latter theory she had just considered were true.

"Yes, I amquiteaware you are an elf," she said, trying not to let the excitement she could feel burst through in her voice. She was after all, nearly an adult now. "I was more shocked at the fact that you were Bernard."

Now it was Bernard's turn to look confused. He glanced over at Dr. Hismus, who looked concerned.

Of course they look concerned, she told herself,my knowing this would be putting the S.O.S. in trouble.

"How exactly do you know that?" Bernard asked.

"It's a long story," Molly replied, trying to brush the knots out of her hair with her fingers. Doing things like that helped her to keep up a calm appearance, even though inside she was anything but calm.

She shivered, realizing that she was still actually quite cold.

Bernard sighed. "Alright, that you can explain after we get you warmed up." He motioned to Dr. Hismus, who passed him a small, brown blanket, then wrapped it over Molly shoulders. "On our way to get you warm, you can explain to me how you managed to get to Elfsburg, given that it's completely unlocatable by humans."

Molly hopped off the table, a little disappointed to discover that Bernard, an Elf, was actually slightly taller than her. She wasn't a fan of being reminded of her height deficiency.

Bernard, however, seemed unfazed by the fact that a human was shorter than him. She wondered if he was even aware that she wasn't a child. She chided herself for that thought immediately after, reminding herself that Bernard was an elf, not an idiot.

"Uhm.. that kind of fits into the long story," she replied sheepishly.

Bernard rolled his eyes. "Of course it does." He nodded his thanks to the doctor, then walked out of the tiny hospital room with Molly following close behind.

As they stepped out the door, Molly couldn't help but stop and marvel at the world that was meeting her eyes. The movies had made Santa's workshop look amazing, but even their sets failed in comparison to the real thing. She had never seen colours so bright or smelled air so fresh, especially indoors.

"Wooowwwwwwww," she gushed, clasping her hands together and holding them over her chest.

Elves hustled and bustled in every direction, loading wrapped presents onto trolleys and taking unwrapped presents out the door, probably towards the wrapping department. There were toys everywhere and all the elves had smiles on their young, childlike faces.

"I don't mean to be rude," Bernard interrupted Molly' gaze of amazement, "But it is Christmas Eve, and I'm a little short on time."

"Sorry," Molly flushed, looking at the ground. She walked over to Bernard, and continued beside him, following the elf out of the main room in the factory and into a big hall lined with doorways.

The hallway looked like it belonged in a kids' ultimate playground; its walls and pillars brilliant golds and reds.

They took a left at the end of the hallway and passed by the giant ballroom. Molly eyed it with curiousity as she passed by. She had always wanted to go in there.

When they reached the door labeled 'Kitchen' Bernard turned and opened it for Molly. She thanked him, a little surprised that Elves had that kind of chivalry in them. Unless it was just Bernard. Either way, she wasn't used to any man holding doors open for her.

The kitchen was fairly empty; most of the goodies had already been baked, and the counters had been cleaned until they were spotless.

Bernard cleared his throat, and the few elves that remained looked at him, nodded, and scattered from the room.

It was a BIG room, and Molly suddenly felt very… nervous at being alone with him in it. It wasn't that he was scary or anything, after all, he was Bernard. It was more that she didn't actually KNOW Bernard, save for what the movies showed of him. What if he was secretly a serial killer? Or a sorcerer?

She shook the thoughts from her head and allowed Bernard to show her to the table. She took a seat and waited silently as he walked over to the Cappuccino machine, made her a drink, then himself one.

He sat the steaming mug down in front of her, then took a seat across from her. Ignoring his impatient stare, Molly thrust her cold hands around the mug, smiling in contentment as the heat from it warmed her fingers.

"So… the long story?" Bernard urged.

Molly nodded, and contemplated for a moment how she would explain something she wasn't entirely sure of. Then, taking a deep breath, she dove into her tale.

Bernard said nothing through the whole story, and as she finished, he simply stared, expressionless.

"You expect me to believe that you're from an alternate universe, where I'm a character in a movie, and you just kind of appeared here?"

Molly nodded slowly. "Not really much else I can tell you. Like I said, I only know what I know."

Bernard snorted. "You really think us elves are idiots, don't you? I'm not dumb enough to believe a tale like that."

Molly' eyes widened and she looked at the head elf completely dumbfounded. "I'm telling the truth!" she defended.

"Yeah, right."

"I'll prove it to you!" Molly wasn't entirely sure if what she had would count as proof, but she was going to give it a shot anyway.

"Oh yeah? How?" Bernard asked.

"The current Santa Clause… is a man named Scott Calvin, right?"

Bernard stared at her blankly. "Who?"

"Scott Calvin… you know, has a son named Charlie… became Santa when the Santa before him fell off his roof… or are we onto the next Santa already?"

Bernard continued to stare at her blankly. "There has never been a Scott Calvin as Santa. I don't even know a Scott Calvin. Our current Santa has been in the position for the last two hundred years."

Now it was Molly' turn to stare blankly. "Say what now?"

"There. Is. No. Scott. Calvin."

Molly blinked. This couldn't be. Even if there was an alternate universe, it couldn't be that Scott Calvin had never existed as Santa Claus, could it? Unless…

"What year is it?"

Another eye roll. "What, now you have amnesia?"

"No." Apparently, Bernard was a little bit snarkier in person than in the movie.

"I just need you to tell me what year it is," she said slowly. It was the only plausible option she could think of.

"1994," Bernard replied, staring at her as if she had a third head.

Molly blinked. This was the very Christmas Eve that Scott would become Santa… which meant, she wasn't just in the alternate universe… she was now in the timeline of the movie.

"Great…. This could totally screw everything up," she muttered.

Bernard raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Alright, I have your proof for you." She ignored his question about her mutterings. That would be explained soon enough anyway. "I'm 18 years old, on my victory lap of high school… and where I'm from. It's the year 2004."

"Are you sure you don't need… another kind of help?" he inquired.

Molly glared at him. "If you don't believe me, check my wallet. It was in my coat pocket, which I'm assuming you have somewhere." He nodded, confirming they had the coat. "Pull out my driver's license. It's an Ontario license, and it was issues in 2002. My birth date will also be on it… and it will say I was born in 1986. Now, if that's my birth date, and I'm 18, you do the math."

They glared at each other in silence a moment, before the clock struck eleven, interrupting their staring contest.

Bernard grunted. "I have to go. I will send Judy to take you to a temporary room. When Santa gets back, we're all going to sit down and sort this out. Until then… pardon my sounding like a parent here, but stay in your room."

Without another word, Bernard turned on his heel, and took off out the door.

Molly let out an exasperated sigh and took a sip of her drink. Much to her displeasure, it was not cappuccino at all, but rather, hot chocolate. Then again, she realized, she should have expected that. She pushed the mug away from herself and contemplated banging her head off the table.

This was fantastic, just fantastic. She was in a place she had dreamed of being for years, and rather than falling madly in love with Bernard, or having a blast riding the reindeer, she was instead, ordered to room arrest under suspicions of lying about her identity. What a fantastic start to the holidays.

She looked up as Judy walked through the doors, smiling pleasantly as she always did in the movie.

"Molly?" she asked, although she obviously already knew who the girl was.

Molly nodded. "Judy?"

Judy nodded back and smiled. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room." Her smile faded slightly as she noticed the steaming mug of hot chocolate that had been shoved away. "Is something wrong with the hot chocolate?" she asked, sounding worried.

Molly had a feeling that the machine was partially Judy's creation, or at least, the machine which dispensed Judy's famous hot chocolate recipe.

"No no, nothing's wrong with it," Molly replied quickly. "It's just that, well… I don't like chocolate."

Judy stared at her and blinked. "Really?"

"Uhm, yeah."

"Hmm, well… that's different." She shrugged, then motioned for Molly to follow her. They made their way back out into the hallway, and over to the train track. Judy climbed aboard, and Molly followed, feeling a little out of place on the small train.

"I apologize if Bernard was short with you at all," Judy said as the train wove in and out of the workshop. "Christmas Eve is always stressful for him, especially when its time to see Santa off."

"I understand," Molly said, not adding that she just figured Bernard must have a jerky streak.

"He's really usually very nice and understanding." The small elf smiled warmly at Molly.

When the train arrived at the sleeping quarters, Judy led her past the first few doors, one of which, Molly recognized as belonging to Santa.

They continued past a few more doors, most of which had names on them. Bernard, Curtis, Quinton, Judy, Dr. Hismus… the list of names that Molly recognized from the movie went on, until they reached the end of the hall, where the last door was labeled 'Guest'.

Molly was a little surprised to see they all lived in the same hall as Santa. "So, you all live right here in the workshop with Santa?"

Judy laughed. "Don't be silly. Those rooms are just there for Christmas Eve, and the week leading up to Christmas. Just in case we need to crash for a little while, or don't have time to go home for the night. We all live down in Elfsburg."

She let Molly into the room, which was much plainer than Molly had expected. She had half hoped it would be as highly decorated as Santa's room, but then again, she rationalized, there was no real reason for a guest room to have that much décor.

The bed looked comfortable enough, and there was a pair of bright red, flannel pyjamas waiting for her. On the nightstand beside the bed, was a big, red button, and beside it, a pad of paper and a pencil.

"If you need anything, just hit the button. It's a direct line to me. If I'm not available, I'll send another elf to see you."

"So I'm a prisoner of the North Pole?" Molly grimaced.

Judy laughed musically and shook her head. "Not at all! Despite what Bernard has ordered, I will do my best to make you as comfortable as possible. Remember, he's just being a jerk because it's Christmas Eve. I promise tomorrow will be better. You might want to get some sleep though; Bernard will probably call you first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, Judy," Molly smiled. "You're a very sweet elf."

"Well, I have had nearly 1800 years to work on my people skills," she laughed. "Have a good night."

The elf nodded politely, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Well, I guess I might as well try to get some sleep," Molly muttered to herself, as she picked up the pj's. Moments later she crawled into the bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and turned out the light.

Maybe this was still a dream, and when she woke up, she'd still be lying face first in the snow, probably frostbitten to death.