Happy Christmas

Have an absolutely super Christmas and a wonderful New Year :-)

bread and roses,
Michael

Bread and Roses
Neverending Rainbow
The Unrepentant Fanboy

He Sees You When You're Sleeping...

He came, soaring gracefully, from the North...an almost imperceptible blur of blue and scarlet knifing through the brisk winter's air.

A child, being half-dragged and half-carried by his preoccupied mother, spied the fleeting blur as it whizzed past a crowded shopping mall parking lot. "Mama!" he cried incredulously scanning the heavens for another glimpse of the bright night traveler. "Didja see him?!?"

"See who?" The boy’s mother said absently as she fumbled around in her purse for her car keys.

"I saw him! Up there!" The boy said, wide-eyed and giddy, pointing to the sky.

His mother opened the car door and stuffed her purchases into the back seat. "That's nice, honey," she said as she lifted him into the passenger seat and secured him with the seat belt. "You can tell me all about it later."

She went around and got into the driver's seat. She started the engine and looked back for a chance to pull out. "Right now we've got to hurry home and get everything ready for the big day..."

The boy sighed dejectedly. "Okay, Mama. But I really did see him...flying over the city..."

The woman, warmed by a sudden realization, smiled. "Oh..." She turned and took his face gently into her hands. "Well of course you saw him flying over the city, Michael...it is Christmas Eve after all and that's exactly where he belongs on this night of nights."

She kissed his forehead and then turned back to drive. Michael smiled and pressed his face to the window searching the dark skies for the traveler as the car pulled out into traffic for the short ride to the warmth of home.

The blur came to rest upon the top of the tallest building in the city. The blur became a man...a tall and powerful man...his burnished red boots softly crunching the fresh snow on the roof.

He looked out over the festive, dancing lights of the city...of his city. (He paused and smiled at that thought knowing full well that all the cities of the fragile blue Earth were his cities...so many responsibilities, all freely accepted.)

His kind, knowing eyes grew softly opaque and, randomly, the lives of some of the citizens of the city were fleetingly known to him: shoppers scurrying through the stores one final time...parents cursing and laughing and cursing again as they struggle to assemble magical wonders with only perseverance and arcane instructions to guide them...children sleeping and trying to sleep and pretending to sleep with visions of reindeer dancing in their minds...the faithful gathered in the myriad houses of God reaffirming their continuing gratitude for His gifts.

He saw them all...heard them all...discreetly glancing past each life but feeling that much more content and reassured for having shared even a fleeting instant with each of them.

The twinkle returned to his eyes as his field of vision contracted. It was a good night, he thought, a soft and peaceful night.

His thoughts drifted to his mother...the warm and wise woman who had taken an orphaned child as her own and raised him with all the love her abundant heart had to give. She was, he was certain, fussing with pies or some such at that very moment.

A glance across the miles confirmed this almost instantly. His father and his wife were trimming the stately tree in the living room...his father was telling a story with uncustomary animation (no doubt an embarrassing tale from his son's childhood) and his lady love was laughing that magical laugh of hers.

The crowning star was waiting patiently in its padded box for the tall man's arrival (that he would place the star was lifelong tradition...his father would have it no other way.)

The tall man smiled and drew a measure of bracing air into his mighty lungs. And then, with nary an afterthought, he leapt boldly into the night, his great scarlet cloak billowing gracefully behind him. He cruised slowly, silently, around the city once more chuckling warmly whenever the inevitable "Look! Up in the sky!" reached his all-hearing ears.

"Merry Christmas, Metropolis," he murmured affectionately as he turned towards the west and flew, straight and true, to the comforting warmth and love of his boyhood home and another blessed Christmas with the most important people in his life.

- for Kal -

Harry Potter and the Spirit of Christmas

The halls of Hogwarts were quiet, their festive decorations shining down on the handful of students who had not already left the school to enjoy their winter holidays at home. Harry Potter found that he rather liked the quiet…especially since irritations like Draco Malfoy had left and the tensions of mid-term examinations had faded…as he and his best mate Ron wandered the halls leading to the grand library. A good number of the school’s ghosts were out and about, quite happy for a respite from the student body of rambunctious young wizards.

Harry was to spend the holidays with Ron’s family, the Weasleys, and he was anxious to get going. He gave nary a thought to his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin on Privet Drive whom, he was quite sure, were just as pleased to not spend the holidays with him as he was thrilled to not be spending the holidays with them. They would have departed already but for Hermione, who was also going to spend part of the holidays in the cozy Weasley home, who had insisted she had to do some last minute extra credit research before she could enjoy her holidays.

“I swear, Harry,” Ron said with exasperation dripping from every syllable, “that girl spends so much time reading that we oughta just lock her in the library and throw away the key!”

Harry smiled. “It’s not that bad, Ron,” he said solicitously, “you know Hermione just needs to be on top of things or she just doesn’t feel right.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Well, I won’t feel right until I’ve ‘ad a cup or two of me mum’s holiday cider!”

Before Harry could reply, Hermione Granger, loaded down with texts and scrolls as usual, came out of the library. “I got a note from Hagrid,” she said dispensing with the bother of greetings, “he wants us to come to his place before we leave.”

Ron sighed. “But the last train…”

“…won’t be leaving for an hour or so,” Hermione said sternly. “We have plenty of time.”

Harry nodded. He was not at all upset about having another chance to wish their friend “happy holidays” one more time before he left. “Too right,” he said, reaching out to take some of Hermione’s load. “We’ll put this stuff in your room and go right over.”

Ron rolled his eyes half-heartedly and sighed once more. “Well then, let’s get a move on.”

Presently, the trio made its way to the door of Hagrid, the affable half-giant who was their teacher, their confidant, and, most importantly, their friend. There was a note pinned to the door written in the expansive, child-like scrawl they all recognized as Hagrid’s handwriting.

“Go round back,” Harry read aloud. He shrugged and walked around the house with his friends following behind. The three of them were wary since one never knew what kind of amazing and monstrous creature Hagrid might have tied up back there. Harry’s eyes went wide with amazement as he looked upon the creatures he did find. “Wow.”

Hermione’s face brightened with a broad smile and she stepped past Harry. “They’re beautiful,” she said. And indeed they were. The eight majestic reindeer, tethered two by two to a gleaming sleigh, were an amazing sight to behold.

Ron, still wary, hung back. “Careful now, Hermione,” he cautioned. “Knowing Hagrid those beasts might be man-eaters or fire breathers or some such!”

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes. “Don’t be daft, Ron,” she said, fearlessly reaching out to stroke one of the reindeers’ downy fur, “they wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Harry noticed another note addressed to the three of them in the driver’s seat of the massive sleigh. “Look here,” he said, “another note from Hagrid.” He picked it up and tried to open it but the seal wouldn’t give. The writing on the envelope began to glow and then dance until the words…now gleaming blue…formed a new message. Harry read the message out loud. “Cannot be opened until all three of you are seated in the sleigh.”

“Well then let’s see what this is all about, shall we?” Hermione said resolutely climbing into the sleigh. “Come along, Ron, we don’t have all day.”

Ron started to protest but he knew that it would fall on deaf ears so he cautiously circled the back of the sleigh and got in on the other side of Harry. (He wished that they hadn’t packed their wands already; he would have felt safer if he had his wand under his robes.) Once Ron had sat down, the seal on the envelope vanished into thin air. Harry pulled out the note frowning as he read it.

“What’s it say, Harry?” Ron asked impatiently.

With a puzzled look on his face, Harry looked at the note again. “It just says: “Hang on”.”

And with that, the reindeer suddenly started moving as one, galloping towards the forest at amazing speed. And then, before the children knew what was happening, the reindeer and the sleigh left the ground and soared gracefully up into the brisk winter’s air.

“Blimey!” Ron exclaimed, stealing a look over the side at the grounds of the school becoming smaller and smaller as they rose higher and higher. “How do we stop this thing!?” he said, trying desperately to hide his burgeoning hysteria.

Harry and Hermione said nothing. Despite the fact that they were soaring higher and faster than any broomstick could ever go, Harry and Hermione were strangely calm. Ron, despite his rapidly pounding heart, took some strength from his friends and bit his tongue to keep from giving voice to the fears and misgivings he felt.

The sleigh soared, fast and true, northward but the trio of youngsters remained warm despite the ice and snow expanding out as far as they could see. Suddenly, the reindeer veered upward as if they were planning to run to the moon. Harry, Hermione, and Ron didn’t even have time to scream as gravity grabbed them bodily and pulled them out of the sleigh and into the cold night air.

They tumbled down gracelessly, each of them sure that they were about to die, and, instinctively they reached out for each other. Hermione took Harry’s hand and, in turn, Harry reached out for Ron. They looked at each other without saying a word and then, just as suddenly as they had fallen out of the sleigh they found themselves nestled in a thick blanket of welcoming snow, alive and unharmed much to their collective surprise and delight.

Harry helped Hermione up and then looked up in amazement. Hermione followed his gaze.

“What the bloody ‘ell was that all about?” Ron complained indignantly as he picked himself up. “I knew this was a bad idea!”

“Ron…” Harry said.

Ron continued to dust off his robes. “I’m not ever getting into another strange sleigh again, I tell you that much…”

“Ron!” Hermione said sharply. “Look!”

Ron followed Hermione’s pointed finger and his mouth fell open. There, just a hundred or strides away was a large complex of wooden buildings, quaint and welcoming, shining warmly as though the sun were out. A sign on the path leading to the building read simply “North Pole”. Ron rubbed his eyes with his fists and then looked again. “No way,” he said, “I must have bonked my head harder than I thought…”

“Come on then, you lot,” Harry said, trudging off towards the buildings.

“Hold on a sec!” Ron protested. “We can’t just walk up to that place. We don’t know who lives there!”

Hermione sighed heavily. “Of course we do, Ron,” she said. “Everybody knows who lives at the North Pole!”

Ron paused and then looked up again. “Don’t be daft, Hermione,” he said resolutely. “That’s just a kid’s story!”

“You know that magic exists, for goodness sake!” Hermione said. “Are you telling me that you believe in witches and dragons and dementors and everything we’ve learned…but you don’t believe in him?”

Ron blushed and frowned. “…no, I don’t…” he said in a small voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such an idiot today, Ron,” she said in exasperation, turning on her heels to follow Harry.

“Why should today be different from any other day?” Ron replied petulantly, pausing before he reluctantly followed behind his friends.

Presently, the three of them were at a window of the great building their noses pressed against the glass. Inside there was a flurry of activity, tiny little men and women were bustling around making and collecting and putting bright wrapping paper on toys and games and dolls of all kinds and sizes.

“Elves,” Harry said, a bright smiled plastered on his face.

“You’ve seen elves before,” Hermione said.

“Yes,” Harry agreed, “but not these elves…”

Ron started to say something but his words were lost as the ground underneath them…actually doors hidden under the snow…suddenly gave way and the three of them found themselves tumbling down a long dark shaft. Their fall was cushioned once more…this time by an expansive cluster of large teddy bears.

“No more falling please,” Ron said shaking off dizziness.

“Here now,” a small gruff voice said, “what’s all this then?”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked up to see the elves gathered around them. “Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly, “we didn’t know the door was there.”

“No harm done, lad,” one of the elves said.

Before they could say anything, another deeper voice intervened. “What’s the commotion over here?” a startlingly familiar voice said. “We’re on a schedule here, people,” the voice said in low, vaguely menacing tones. “I don’t want to be here all night.”

A cold chill shot through Harry. He knew the voice all too well and he was none too happy to hear it. He looked up at the tall man, reptilian and thin, all dressed in black (save for an incongruous furry red and white hat on his haughty head.)

The man’s eyes went ice cold as he recognized Harry and the others. He glared at Harry and snarled, “Potter? What in the name of creation are you doing here? Granger? Weasley? Explain yourselves.”

The last person Harry would have ever expected to find in this place was Professor Snape, Hogwart’s foul-tempered Potions teacher who held a special contempt in his black heart for him. “I…”

But before Harry could say anything else, another figure came into view. This figure was tall and stately with gentle, omniscient eyes and a long flowing white beard. “It’s quite all right, Severus,” the old man said in a quiet, authoritative voice, “the young ones were expected.”

Harry looked up at Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts’ headmaster, with gratitude and surprise. “We were, sir?”

“I thought this yearly excursion was something we had agreed to keep totally secret from any and all students?” Snape said, suddenly remembering the hat on his head and snatching it off with one fluid, self-conscious motion.

Dumbledore held up a hand. “Hagrid asked if these three could be given a special dispensation and I agreed.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Hagrid,” he spat. “I should have known. That fool will be the death of me yet.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all had to repress the urge to say “We can only hope.”

Snape shot another icy glare at Harry and then turned on his heels. “Come along, elves, these blasted toys won’t get into boxes by themselves.”

The elves, all used to Snape’s gruffness, just chuckled and got back to work.

“Professor,” Harry asked, “Does this mean that you’re…you’re Father Christmas?”

There was a deep chuckle behind them and the children turned round. “No, lad, he’s not,” said the newcomer. “I am.”

And indeed he was…round of cheek and body with twinkling eyes and downy white hair and beard. He had on his red pants and black boots as well as a white shirt and bright red suspenders stretched over the expanse of his round belly.

“Ah, Kristofer,” Dumbledore said, “allow me to introduce…”

Father Christmas chuckled again. “I know who they are, Albus,” he said kindly. “I know every child in the world.”

Dumbledore blushed a bit. “Yes, of course you do.” Dumbledore turned to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. “Well, I’ve much to do before Kristofer begins his rounds, so you will have to excuse me,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Happy Christmas, children.”

“Happy Christmas, sir,” they responded as one. And Dumbledore slipped away, fading away in a crevice of soft light.

“Well then, Hermione…Harry…Ronald…” the old man said jovially. “How do you like my home? It’s not always this hectic, of course, but we are in the season…”

“Hold on, sir,” Ron said skeptically. “I…”

“You’re not sure you believe in Santa Claus,” the old man said without rancor. “That’s okay, not everybody does…”

“Well, sir,” Harry interjected sheepishly, “I have to admit that it’s hard to believe that you can visit every home on Earth in one night…”

“It’s magic, Harry,” Hermione said shyly. “Why else would Professor Dumbledore and Snape be here?” Harry found it hard to believe that Snape had a sentimental bone in his evil body and he chose to believe that Dumbledore had forced him to help out. “You just have to believe,” Hermione said with more unguarded serenity than Harry could ever remember seeing in her. Harry and Ron regarded their friend with amazement, they would have expected her to be the most skeptical of the three of them and yet here she was standing in the toy factory at the North Pole and blithely accepting it all.

“Just so, Hermione,” Father Christmas said proudly. “You just have to believe in the spirit of Christmas and the spirit of Christmas will always come to you.”

Harry and Ron nodded. Father Christmas took them on a tour of his workshop and home. He gave them cookies and hot chocolate and spoke with them of their most secret wishes.

And in time, Father Christmas…Santa Claus…took them to the door. “Well, children, I must reluctantly bid you farewell as I must get back to work and you must get home to your loved ones.”

Harry frowned, his mind flashing on the Dursleys. “You know what I wish most, sir?”

“Yes,” the old man replied knowingly. “And one day you’ll understand why things happened as they have….and as they will…”

“I just have to believe…” Harry said dryly.

“Indeed,” Father Christmas replied, chuckling knowingly, kindly. “You just have to believe, dear ones.” And with that he waved his hand in a motion the students could swear looked like a magical incantation.

Bright light danced around the eyes of Harry, Hermione, and Ron and they felt themselves growing sleepy…dreams of friends and family and Christmas mornings filling their beings. Slumber took them and as it did they heard gentle laughter that made them feel warm…and loved…and watched over.

“Here now,” a booming, familiar voice said, “what’s all this then?”

Harry’s eyes opened slowly and he was pleased to see the bearded but most welcome expanse of Hagrid’s face looming over him. Harry and Hermione and Ron found themselves on the ground behind Hagrid’s cabin.

“Hagrid?” Harry asked, the journey north seeming more and more like a lovely dream as the moments passed. “How’d we get back here?”

Hagrid, a terrible liar, hemmed and hawed and then said, “I don’t rightly know but if you don’t hurry you’ll miss the last train…”

“The train!” Ron cried out leaping to his feet. “My mom’s cider! We have to go get our stuff!”

“Easy there, lad,” Hagrid said as he helped Harry and Hermione to their feet. “Your belongin’s are already aboard. You’d better get a move on.”

Ron, needing no further prompting, sprinted away. “Happy Christmas, Hagrid!” he called back as he ran.

Hagrid laughed. Harry and Hermione each had a hundred questions but Hagrid gave them no opening to ask even one. “Off with you now, you two. The holiday won’t wait forever, y’know?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and then up at Hagrid. There was no time for questions, they agreed silently. The events of the journey were almost completely lost to them but they still held on to the lingering feeling just the same. They both hugged Hagrid and then dashed off after Ron. “Happy Christmas, Hagrid!” they called out as they ran.

“Happy Christmas!” Hagrid boomed out affectionately. And when he was sure they were gone, he turned to the shadows and nodded. “Come on then, you lot,” he said and the team of reindeer came out of the shadows and into the clearing. “We’d best get back to the North Pole,” he said as he stepped into the sleigh. “We’ve all got a lot of work to do.”

And with that the great sleigh soared up into the sky and headed north straight and true. Hagrid, the reins firmly in his hands, laughed happily and shouted, “And to all a happy Christmas…and gentle good night!”

Climbing onto the stairs of the Hogwarts Express, Harry Potter heard the laughter and the greeting and he smiled a smile that warmed his very soul. “You’ve just got to believe,” he said softly before boarding the train and riding on to a warm and loving Christmas holiday with his best mate’s wonderful family.

with gratitude …and apologies…to J.K. Rowling

The Man from Kansas (Christmas Eve at Ground Zero 2001)

The man from Kansas stood in the shadows, away from prying eyes and questioning hearts, surveying the rubble. Even in the crisp December air…more than three months past the holocaust…that rubble smoldered still. The man from Kansas felt his heart churning with an uneasy mix of reactions…admiration, sadness, regret, outrage, faith, compassion, guilt…a mix he had grown all too accustomed to each time he came to the gleaming city and help with the cleanup of her gaping wound.

Some had wondered where he was…their guardian angel…when the horror rained down on the metropolis. Some had blamed him for his failure…for his inability to predict and prevent the great birds of men mortally wounding the proud buildings that had stabbed defiantly towards the heart of heaven. Some had blamed him…even as he blamed himself…but most had not. They knew that, despite the fact he was more than a man he was, just the same, only human after all…and that some things cannot be predicted beforehand anymore than they could be fully comprehended afterwards.

The man from Kansas sighed, his compassionate eyes growing humid, and casually kicked free from the grasp of gravity. He rose gracefully, his great scarlet cloak billowing gently in the icy winter’s breeze, quickly up into the New York night…high above the spotlights illuminating the expansive area of destruction where mighty towers had once stood proud. High above the proud, angry, defiant, heroic men and women who toiled in that rubble…searching for the lost, accumulating the debris, holding onto to faith in God and country in the face of things once beyond imagining.

The man from Kansas allowed a single tear to trickle down his alabaster cheek…he had cried many tears…spent countless hours down in the rubble (in this guise and as his real self) one amongst many doing what they could to help…to cope…to understand. In the middle of the destruction, a simple sign of life…a bright and beautiful tree adorned with the decorations of the season…stood side by side with an unbowed American flag. War and madness notwithstanding, Christmas Eve was still Christmas Eve.

The man from Kansas felt an impulse to soar away…to return home where his loving parents and his amazing lady wife were waiting patiently…but he stayed it for a moment. His celebrity was not something he understood…or ever felt completely comfortable with (he was, after all, just doing what he could with the gifts the universe had given him)…but he knew it was real (and to many, comforting) just the same. With another casual thought, he descended down into the rubble…down into the spotlight.

Weary souls…construction workers, fire fighters, police officers…looked up in awe as he glided down into their midst. And, for a moment, the work stopped as they gathered around him, shaking his hand…telling little jokes…sharing salutations of the gentle season. And then, they turned and returned to their tasks. And the man from Kansas put aside his cloak and rolled up his sleeves and put his mighty powers in the same service.

An hour or so into his time there, the man from Kansas held up a twisted girder as a young man with haunted but hopeful eyes went under to search a bit. The young man looked up, awe-struck by the power and celebrity of his companion, and smiled shyly. “Merry Christmas, sir,” the young man said before returning to the task at hand.

“Yes it is, son,” the man from Kansas…and Krypton…said with a small, hopeful smile. “Despite everything, it is…and ever will be.”

The two men shared a nod…sharing the moment on that bright Christmas Eve as men and comrades, workers and mourners, human beings touched by tragedy yet made strong by faith, hope, and the love of a gentler season…and then they returned to their work.

Santa Claus is Coming to Sector 001

(an unauthorized Star Trek: The Next Generation Xmas adventure)

Captain's Log (supplemental): Having retrieved Commanders Riker and La Forge and Lt. Worf from their shore leave on Risa, the Enterprise is proceeding to Sector 001...Earth...to collect Dr. Crusher and Nurse Ogawa, who have been attending a conference at Starfleet Medical, before heading back to the outer rim...

Lt. Commander Geordi LaForge and Lt. Worf proceeded smartly down the hall leading away from Sickbay. Geordi, as is his wont, is smiling. Worf, as is his wont, is not.

"...they should not have challenged me if they were not up to the task," Worf said resolutely.

Geordi chuckled. "Worf, I really don't think that those Cardassian wrestlers really expected you to be so...enthusiastic..."

"Bones heal," Worf said emphatically, a touch of condescension slipping into his gruff voice.

"A fitting Klingon sentiment for this time of the year, I suppose," Geordi replies with a smile. "As long as you had a good time..."

Worf nodded. "I trust that the Commander's mysterious ailment will be easily treated," he said, changing the subject. "He seemed in some distress when we left him in Sickbay."

Geordi smiled mischievously and said, "Oh, he'll be okay...any distress you saw came from the fact that Beverly is on Earth and he has to explain his...ailment...to Dr. Selar."

Geordi laughed merrily as they entered the turbolift; Worf raised an eyebrow but said nothing...he'd lived among humans long enough to know that the import of Commander LaForge's cryptic comments would be forever lost on him and so he gave it no further thought.

"...and so, Commander, you believe that you may have been...infected...during your intimate liaison with an Andorian female you met during your leave?"

Riker squirmed uncomfortably in the humorless gaze of the Vulcan doctor. "Yes, doctor," he stammered, uncharacteristically red-faced and ill at ease," that's pretty much the case."
The Vulcan woman's stoic expression did not change. "I see."

Dr. Selar picked up a tricorder and aimed it at Riker's crotch. She studied the readings for a moment and then closed the instrument. "You were correct, Commander," she said evenly, "the rash on your...genitals...is indeed the first stages of an Andorian swamp virus."

"Yikes," Riker said with a nervous smile. "I trust you have something for that."

Selar cocked one of her pronounced eyebrows and Riker could swear that the hint of a smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. "Yes, of course, Commander Riker," she said flatly, reaching for a hypo-spray. "Dr. Crusher alerted me to your off-duty... predilections...when she briefed me."

"Did she now?"

Selar administered the hypo. "The rash should be gone shortly."

Riker stepped down from the examination table and adjusted the shirt of his uniform. "Well thank you, doctor," a bit of his usual confidence returning to his voice. I trust that this will remain confidential..?"

Selar looked vaguely insulted but in an even voice she replied, "Of course."

Riker's face brightened. "Doctor, may I be the first to wish you a very Happy Christmas?"

Selar's eyebrow went up again. "If you must."

"Right. Thanks." Riker turned on his heel and went through the door into the hall quickly.

On the bridge, Picard sat silently, lost in his thoughts. At Ops, Lt. Commander Data monitored the myriad functions of his station while running calculations for the refinement of the Hawkings Curve that he was working on. At the Conn, Ensign Rhiannon Chang fretted through the changes, hoping against hope that her first turn at the helm with the Captain on the bridge would continue to go smoothly.

Picard glanced over as the door to the turbolift opened. He took in the soft draw of breath he always had to when she came into a room...he knew that his idle passion was crystal clear to her Betazoid senses but there was nothing that he could do about that.

Deanna, who was of course well aware of his reaction to her, said nothing as she came down the ramp and sat on his left. "Will we be staying on Earth for Christmas, Captain?" she asked pleasantly.

Picard allowed a fleeting smile, thinking of his family in France and all the lovely Christmases past. "I had thought we might, Counselor. It's not often that we are at the homeworld during the holidays." He turned and looked at her. "Do you have a lot of memories of Christmas?"

Deanna smiled wistfully. "Yes, we celebrated every year on Betazed. My father brought the tradition with him from Earth. Mother thought it was silly...at least until she was told that gifts were involved and then she got into the spirit of it."

Picard chuckled warmly. "I can see where that might make the difference with her..."

Picard was about to say something else when Chang interrupted. "Excuse me, Captain," she said tremulously. "Long range sensors are detecting some kind of craft adrift in Earth orbit."

"Confirmed, Captain," Data said, pressing panels on his console. "It seems to be adrift high above the Earth's northern pole."

Picard frowned. "It must have been detected by Earth-based sensor arrays by now."

Data shook his head slightly. "No sign of any activity, sir. It seems to have escaped detection by the orbital sensors as well."

"That's damn odd..." Picard said idly.

"What's odd, sir," Riker said as he came through the turbolift doors with Worf right behind.

Picard was disoriented for a second but then he turned towards Riker as he came down the ramp; Worf took his place at the security console.

"We seem to have a...unidentified craft in Earth orbit...and no one seems to have noticed but us," Picard said turning towards the front viewing screen. "By the way, welcome back, Number One, Mr. Worf."

"Thank you, sir," Riker replied as he took his seat at Picard's right-hand. "Mr. Worf, open a channel to the craft."

Worf touched a couple of panels on his console. "No reply, sir," he said gravely. "What's more we seem to be out of touch with all Earth based communications."
Picard frowned again. "Slow to impulse, Ensign Chang."

"Aye, sir."

"Put the craft on viewer," Picard ordered.

On the big screen, Earth...hanging blue and green in an ebon field of tars...came into view.

"Magnify and enhance, Mr. Data," Picard directed.

"Yes, sir...I..."

Everyone on the bridge fell silent with astonishment as the craft came into view. The "craft" was a large sleigh filled with gaily-wrapped boxes. Eight powerful reindeer, harnessed to the sleigh, were sprawled unconscious in the void. And slumped over in the driver's seat, was a rotund, rosy-cheeked, white-bearded man all dressed in scarlet and white.

"Incroyable!" Picard gasped. "This must be some kind of joke!"

"Father Christmas!" Worf exclaimed, immediately embarrassed by his loss of demeanor.

"Santa Claus?" Deanna said, her eyes wide with wonder. "Will, is that...?"

Riker shook his head. "Looks like, Deanna..."

Data had a child-like, inquisitive smile on his face. "Santa Claus?" he said. "Accessing...yes, Santa Claus...also known as St. Nicholas...also known as Father Christmas...also known as..."

"Data!" Picard said sharply. "Are there any lifesigns."

Data touched a panel. "Yes, sir! The...man...and his animals are all alive. Unconscious but alive..."

Riker looks over. "I guess we should beam them aboard?"

Picard nodded. "That would seem to be the prudent thing, Number One. Make it so."

Presently in Sickbay, the old man is laid down on a diagnostic table. Selar is examining the readings while Picard and Riker look on.

"What's the diagnosis, doctor?" Picard inquired.
"His readings indicate that he is indeed human...though I cannot tell you why he was able to survive in the void." Selar replies. "I am also unable to find a physiological reason for his apparent coma..."

"I guess he survived by magic," Riker offered wryly, "he is Santa Claus after all..."

Selar regarded him with mild, fleeting derision. "That is illogical, Commander."

"Indeed," Picard agreed. "But still..."

A soft tone sounded. "Troi to Picard."

Picard touched the golden insignia on his chest. "Go ahead, Counselor."

On the bridge, Deanna was seated in the captain's chair. "We have been unable to raise any one Earthside, Captain...they don't seem to know that we're here."

"Thank you, Counselor," Picard said. "Keep trying."

"Perhaps Dr. Crusher would be able to discover something that I am unable to find," Selar said idly.

Suddenly there was a flash of soft golden light and Dr. Beverly Crusher was standing amongst them.

"Beverly?!?" Picard exclaimed.

"Jean-Luc??" Crusher, visibly disoriented, said. "How did I get here? I was at Starfleet Medical waiting for word that the Enterprise had arrived and then..."

Crusher's words drifted away as she looked down at the unconscious man on the table. "...who... is...this...?"

Riker smiled. "He may be exactly who he looks like he is, Doctor."

In Shuttlebay 1, Lt. Commander LaForge walked slowly around the sleigh, his VISOR examining it in a dozen ways at once. Off on the far end of the bay, the reindeer, now all awake and seemingly no worse for wear, watched with casual interest.

"I don't know, Data," Geordi said. "There is absolutely nothing that I can find that could make this thing fly."

Data stepped closer. "Nevertheless, Geordi," he responded earnestly, "that is what it appeared to do."

Geordi turned towards the reindeer. "Perhaps it was those guys like the stories said."

Data looked at his friend and then at the animals. "Geordi," he said patiently, "these animals have been examined and they display no unusual traits."

Geordi sighed and turned back towards the shuttlebay's doors. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, Data," he said with mild exasperation creeping into his voice. "Like your pal Sherlock Holmes said, once you've eliminated the probable, whatever's left...however improbable...must be the truth. We can't find an answer through science and so maybe that old man is who he looks like and this thing really flies through..."

A child-like smile crept onto the android's saffron face. "...magic..." Data said almost gleefully, finishing Geordi's statement.

In Sickbay, Picard and Riker looked on as Crusher and Selar continued to examine the rotund old man.

"Well, doctor?" Picard said somewhat impatiently.

Crusher shook her head dismissively and continued to examine her patient. "I have no idea why this man is not awake..."

"I'm just a little tired, Beverly," the man said suddenly, startling all of them. The man's eyes slid open. Despite his stated weariness, those eyes were bright and full of laughter.

Picard stepped forward. "I'm Captain J..."

The old man chuckled affectionately. "I know who you are, Jean-Luc." With Crusher and Selar's aid, he sat up on the table. "I know all of you."

He smiled at Crusher. "Beverly. You were such a headstrong girl..."

He looked up at Riker. "Ah, William," he said with mock-reproach, "still as always the scamp, aren't you?"

He turned to Selar. "And dear Selar..."

Selar's upraised eyebrow went up a bit further. "Your pardon, sir," she interrupted, "even if you are who you appear to be, you cannot know me...we do not have this 'Christmas' on Vulcan."

The old man smiled and patted Selar's arm affectionately. "I am wherever there are children and other people of good will, gentle Selar," he replied. "And I do know you as well."

Picard cleared his throat. "Now, look here, Mister...?"

"Call me Nick," the old man said jovially.

Picard sighed ever so slightly. "Yes, of course," he replied evenly. "Look here, Nick, you cannot possibly be who you appear to be..."

"Why not?" Nick said pleasantly. "Don't you believe in Santa Claus, Captain?"

"No," Picard shot back irritably, "I do not."

Nick laughed boisterously. "That's okay, son," he chuckled, "I believe in you." He paused and then added, "And no, Jean-Luc, in answer to your unvoiced question, I am not the Q entity...he has been a bad boy for so long that I won't be visiting him for ages to come..."

The room went quiet as Picard and Nick looked deeply into each other's eyes.

Then Picard blushed and cleared his throat once again. "What can we do to help you...Nick?"

The old man smiled. "I've only a handful of deliveries to make but I'm tired...perhaps this lovely ship of yours could help an old man...?"

A bit later in the Captain's Ready Room, Picard, Riker, LaForge, and Data confer.

"What convinced you, sir?" Riker inquired.

"I don't know, Number One," Picard replied thoughtfully, "we've seen so many amazing things in our travels...why shouldn't we just believe?"

"That is not a logical conclusion, sir," Data interjected.

Picard nodded. "Perhaps not, Mr. Data," he said, "but sometimes a little faith goes a lot further than a lot of logic..."

Picard turned to LaForge. "Geordi, is everything prepared?"

"Yes, sir," he replied with incredulity coloring his voice, "we're ready."

"Well done."

A soft beep sounded. "Worf to Picard."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

There was a pregnant silence then Worf said, "Sir, do I really have to do this? It's so...undignified..."

Riker and LaForge suppressed laughs while Data looked on in confusion.

"You don't have to do this, Mr. Worf," Picard replied. "But he did ask for you specifically...and I would consider it a personal favor..."

After another long pause, Worf sighed audibly and said, "Very well, sir. I'll do it."

Picard smiled. "Excellent! Meet us in Sickbay, Mr. Worf."

"Aye, sir."

Captain's Log (supplemental): Despite the fact that it makes no sense at all, I have decided to aid the man who called himself "Nick" in completing his...mission. To that end, Mr. Worf has very reluctantly agreed to play a very important role...

"Ho, Ho, Ho?" the Klingon snarled. "I do not think that I will be saying that."

Worf, resplendent in a bright red suit, trimmed in while fur with a big black belt and big black boots continued to scowl even in the face of Nick's infectious joviality.

"You don't say it, son," Nick said, "you feel it..."

Crusher came up behind Worf and put her hand up on his shoulder. "Come on, Worf," she said mischievously, "you have to get into the spirit of things."

"Doctor," Worf responded sternly, "I fail to see the humor in this situation."

"As do I, Commander," Selar said disapprovingly. "As do I."

"Nevertheless, doctor," Picard said expansively as he re-entered Sickbay, "we have agreed to do this and so we shall."

Nick nodded. "Thank you, Jean-Luc," he said. "Thank all of you."

Picard drew closer to Worf. "You look splendid, Mr. Worf!"

Worf suppressed a groan. "Thank you, sir," he replied dourly.
"Now if you will proceed to Transporter Room 3, you'll find Commander LaForge and your..." he paused and then lowered his voice, "...elves..."

"Elves?!"

"Of course, son," Nick said brightly, "you can't do the job without elves!"

Worf regarded the old man with a murderous glare and then muttered a curse in Klingon.

As he entered Transporter Room 3, “Santa” Worf was greeted by a very amused LaForge. Geordi was holding out a red and white hat and a white beard.

"What is this, Commander?" Worf inquired warily.

"You lived on Earth, Worf," Geordi replied, barely able to contain his glee, "you know that that outfit isn't complete without these. The Captain thought we should hold off on giving you these until the last moment..."

Worf muttered another, stronger curse as he took the hat and beard from Geordi. "The Captain mentioned something about...elves...?"

Geordi nodded towards the transporter pads.

"That would be us, Father," a chipper voice called out.

Worf turned and there on the pad in matching bright green outfits with matching green elf caps, were Counselor Deanna Troi, Lt. Commander Data, and Alexander, Worf's 9-year-old son. On one of the pads, was a large bag full of brightly-wrapped gifts.

"Alexander? Counselor? Commander?" Worf said incredulously. "What are you doing in those outfits?"

"We're going to help you be Santa Claus, Father!" Alexander said with unbridled excitement. "Grandmother told me all about him but I never thought I'd actually get to help him out! Isn't this great?"

Worf shook his head. "Yes," he said rolling his eyes toward Geordi, "it's just great..."

Deanna came down off the pad and took the hat from Worf and put it on top of his head. She put the beard in place. Then she leaned forward and said, "I know you're embarrassed but think of all of the good this will do." She paused and then added, "Look how happy Alexander is."
She kissed his cheek and then took his hand. "Now, come along, Santa, we have work to do."

Worf and Troi stepped onto the pad.

"Do you have the coordinates of the first residence we are supposed to visit, Geordi?"

"All laid in, Data," Geordi answered. Then he looked up at Worf with an impish grin on his face and said, "Hey, Santa...Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Worf's reply was lost in the hum of the transportation cycle beginning.

Santa Worf and his elves materialized in a darkened house.

Data took a tricorder from his belt and opened it. "Yes, this is the correct residence," he said.

"I thought there was supposed to be a tree to leave these things under," Worf grumbled.

"It's over here, Father...I mean, Santa..." Alexander called out in a stage whisper from across the room.

Worf and the others moved across the room. "Where is it?" Worf asked, irritated.

"It's right in front of you, Santa," Alexander replied.

Santa Worf reached out and as he did, a single golden spark stole from his gloved fingertip and the tree blazed to life with a rainbow of floating lights illuminating it from top to bottom.

"Worf?" Deanna said.

"Lieutenant," Data said, 'how did you do that...?"

"I...I do not know..." Worf said staring at his own finger.

"You're Santa Claus!" Alexander offered guilelessly. "You can do anything!"

Deanna's head suddenly jerked up. "Shh! Someone's awake!"

Before they could react, a little girl...no more than 3 years old...appeared in the doorway. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and then she looked up at Worf. Her eyes grew wide with delight. "Santa!" she cried out. "Santa you came! Just like you promised you would!"
"Promised?" Worf stammered.

"I sent you a com-message and you said that you would come and you did!"

The little girl ran over and hugged Worf's leg. He reached down and lifted the little girl up. "If I told you I would be here, Ariel," he said gently, "then you knew that I would be. I never lie."

Data and Troi looked at each other with puzzled looks on their faces. Alexander dutifully placed the contents of the bag around the tree.

Worf gingerly placed the child back down on the floor. "Now I believe that you should return to your bed and sleep until the morning."

Ariel looked up admiringly. "Okay, Santa," she replied. Then she motioned for Worf to bend down.

Santa Worf went down on one knee and Ariel drew closer. She kissed him on his cheek. "Thank you for visiting my house, Santa," she whispered. "I love you."

Worf blushed. "Go to bed, little one..." he said. "...and...Happy Christmas..."

The child waved at Alexander as she left the room.

"Worf, how did you know that child's name?" Deanna asked.

Worf frowned thoughtfully. "I...I just did..." he replied. "Father Christmas knows the names of all the boys and girls."

Deanna smiled and hugged his massive arm. "Yes he does," she said. "Yes he does."

Their mission completed, Santa Worf and his elves beamed up to the Enterprise to collect more gifts and then down to another home. And another. And yet another.

In due course, the tasks were done and Worf and the others returned to Sickbay.

"Mission accomplished, sir," Santa Worf, still wearing the suit along with the beard and hat, reported.

Picard smiled. "Well done, Mr. Worf. Well done, all of you."

Alexander edged close to the bed where Nick was sitting up. "My father did a good job, sir," he said shyly.

Nick chuckled and patted Alexander's head with grandfatherly gentleness. "I knew that he would, son," he said. "That's why I chose him."

Nick stood up. "I thank you all for your hospitality and your aid...but now I must be off. The wife will be looking for us."

Crusher moved forward. "You're too weak to travel."

"I must concur," Selar added.

"My dears," Nick said gratefully, "please do not worry. Your gentle ministrations have healed this old man's soul as well as his body."

In a flash of golden light, Nick was gone.

Before anyone could say anything, they suddenly found themselves in Ten-Forward with Riker and LaForge.

"Captain?" Riker said incredulously. "I was just on the Bridge and now..."

Picard held up his hand to silence the Commander and his attention was riveted on a sight outside the large windows.

There Nick, in his sleigh, with his reins spurring on the reindeer, waved jauntily towards all of them.

"Merry Christmas," he said (and somehow they could all hear him.) "Merry Christmas to you one and all."

Suddenly, Picard found himself, in civilian attire, in front of his childhood home in France. The door suddenly swung open and his nephew Rene was there with the widest smile in the world on his face.

"You see, father, he's here!" the boy cried out happily, "Uncle is here for Christmas just like I knew he would be!"

"So he is," Robert Picard replied, desperately trying to hide the happiness he felt at having his brother home for the holidays.

Marie Picard appeared and gently scolded her son, "Well, let him in and close that door before all the heat goes away."

Picard glanced up at a slow moving star and smiled before allowing himself to be led into the warm house.

Suddenly, Crusher found herself, in civilian attire, in the house that she owned on Earth. Someone had set up a little tree and she could smell cider brewing and there was a fire in the fireplace. "Hello?" she called out.

Her son, Wesley Crusher, on holiday leave from Starfleet Academy, stepped through the door with two fragrant mugs of cider. 'Merry Christmas, Mom," he said with a smile.

Beverly smiled brightly. "How did you know I would be here?"

Wesley grinned. " I just did..."

Suddenly, Riker found himself, in civilian attire, at the door of the house his father owned. Before he could ring, his father opened the door and seized him in a bearhug.

"Welcome home, son," Kyle Riker said, "and Merry Christmas!"

Will relaxed into the hug. "Merry Christmas to you, Dad."

Suddenly Geordi and Data found themselves, both in civilian attire, in front of a door in a long, warm hallway.

"Geordi, where are we?"

Geordi smiled. "We're home, Data," he exclaimed. "This is my parent's apartment!"

The door came open and Dr. and Captain LaForge drew their son into a family embrace.

"Merry Christmas, son," Dr. Edward LaForge said.

"And welcome home!" his mother added.

Geordi looked back over his shoulder. "Mom, Dad, this is my best friend, Data," he said. "I hope you don't mind that I brought him home for the holidays."

Alvea LaForge put her arm across Data's shoulders and led him in. "Certainly not! Any friend of Geordi's is a part of our family too!"

"Thank you, Captain LaForge," Data said. "And, in the vernacular of the season, allow me to wish you both a very merry Christmas."

And suddenly, Worf, Deanna, and Alexander, all in civilian clothes, found themselves in the warm, plush living room of Sergey and Helena Rozhenko.
"Father, we're..." Alexander exclaimed.

The Rozhenkos came out of the kitchen and Alexander ran into their welcoming embrace.

"...we're home..." Worf said. "Mother, Father, it is good to be home."

Helena smiled and took her son's face into her hands. "And it is good to have you home, my son."

Worf took Deanna's hand and drew her closer. "This is our friend, Deanna...I hope you don't mind her joining us for the holidays..."

"Don't be silly, my son," Sergey said boisterously, taking Deanna under his arm.
"The more the merrier! And this pretty lady is always welcome in our home!"

"Thank you, Mr. Rozhenko," Deanna said with a warm smile.

"Please call me Sergey," he corrected her. "Come let us eat!"

As the others moved into the next room in a commotion of laughter and conversation, Worf paused at the large Christmas tree in the corner of the room. He held out his hand to it and a golden spark came forth and the tree came to bright and beautiful life with dazzling lights.

He glanced out of a window on the snowy Russian landscape and he saw a slow moving star moving northward. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" he said softly before moving following the sound of laughter to his own Christmas celebration.

And suddenly, Selar found herself in her quarters on the Enterprise. "Fascinating," she mused aloud.

She noticed that there was a small tree, decorated with balls of delicate blown glass and twinkling lights on the table in the reception area. Underneath the table was a box, gaily wrapped and festooned with a ribbon.

She opened the box and found a framed photograph of herself as a child in the arms of her mother, who in turn was being held by her father.

There was the sound of bells tinkling merrily and Selar went to the porthole in her quarters. Nick, his sleigh in a soft arc towards Earth, smiled at her. "Merry Christmas, daughter," she heard him say.

Selar let her guard down and said, "Merry Christmas, sir." Then she regained her Vulcan demeanor. She picked up the photo and looked at it for a long time...then a small smile dawned on her face. "Merry Christmas, indeed..."

• For any Trekkers amongst you, this story takes place near the end of the 5th year of the voyage (hence, Worf still being a Lieutenant, Captain LaForge not being among the missing, Picard’s family still being alive, and Wesley Crusher being in Starfleet Academy.) Dr. Selar first appeared in the 2nd year episode, "The Schizoid Man".

All characters are TM and ©2005 Paramount Pictures