Blitz
Santa had agreed to break North Pole policy by allowing us to bring Aideen with us. Our mate, but not yet mated or marked. It took some fancy talk. And some planning.
The first thing was having a reason to visit. Not that we wouldn’t be welcome anytime, but if we were going to ask a boon from the old saint, we were going to have to build some anticipation, make it worth his while to make an exception.
After being on the lead reindeer team for years, we knew the rules and we knew our boss’s weakness. So I’d take it as far as I could with the man then, if necessary, use our secret weapon. But before we could even approach him, we needed to get the sample ready for the boss.
We had already invited Aideen on the trip, so we had to make it happen. We had the actual prototype made, and we were down to programming the android. The size we’d discussed would have the ability to walk, talk, and pick things up. Other movements were a possibility as well, but we could make those decisions after the client had input. We were very proud of our little android, and even prouder that our mate had helped with the design.
When the little man was ready, I picked up the phone to call Santa. My finger shook when I hit the dial button because it was so important to us that he allow us to show our mate why we had no Christmas decorations.
We could have been vague, I supposed, and said our seasonal job made us too busy, but the fact was, we loved Christmas, and we did decorate. Our home in the North Pole just didn’t happen to be conveniently close for peeking at. We’ddecorated our home the first year and now added to it every November with treasures we’d picked up down south.
Telling our mate that we just didn’t decorate would have been easier but a lie. And we had no desire to lie to her.
He was probably the only celebrity who answered his own landline. “Hello.”
“Santa, it’s Blitz calling from down south. How are things at the Pole?”
“Good, it’s all good. Just finishing up some little things before the Mrs. and I head off on vacation. You know how my wife loves the ocean. Unfrozen ones, that is.”
Unlike in the pictures, Mrs. Claus was quite a beauty, her white hair and blue eyes stunning, face nearly unlined. And her curves were nothing like a bowlful of jelly. Santa himself was nearly her age, but the beard and the Christmas weight made him look older.
“More surfing competitions?”
“No, I think this year she’s planning some sailing, maybe parasailing.”
I chuckled. Without the beard, nobody would recognize him on his trip. They’d just look like a handsome older couple with a lot of energy and charisma. “You gonna sail?”
“Hardly. I’ll be on the beach with a cocktail, watching her have her fun. But surely you didn’t call just to ask about our vacation plans. Unless, that is, you want to know where we’ll be so you can stop by and join the party.”
“Maybe next year.” Because it really would be amazing. “But for now we have great news. We’ve met our mate!”
“Ho ho ho! Mary, the reindeer are in love.”
The next voice was Mrs. Claus. Seemed we were on speaker. “Oh my goodness, finally. Congratulations. I want to meet her.”
“You sure you can’t bring her by? I can give you the information on the island, maybe reserve a hut for you for a few nights?”
“You’re both too generous. But actually, we are not officially mated yet, but we would like to bring her up to the Pole to see our home there, meet some of the folks. Oh, and we have your prototype.”
“If she was mated, it would be no problem,” Santa said. “Spouses, mates, all of those are fine, but how many dates did you say you’d been on?”
“I didn’t. Two.” I waited to let that sink in before saying, “Remember, we’re shifters.”
“Of course. Which begs the question—why aren’t you mated if this girl is your…fated do you call it?”
“Right. And yes, she’s our fated, but she’s human. So, we’re courting her.” It sounded odd to me, too. “And she asked why we didn’t decorate for Christmas. She’s a big fan of the holiday, and I think if she sees our real guilty secret, she’ll be willing to settle in with us for the long run.”
“My boy, I can see why it’s important to you. But there are rules, and they are in place for a reason. We can’t just be having every casual relationship up here, or the secret will soon be out. That’s why we say only spouses or mates. Or children. Just the families of our people.”
I waited a moment, and sure enough, Mrs. Claus spoke. “Santa, how do you expect our boys to seal the deal with this young girl if she can’t see how they really live? Imagine what you’d have done if you came to my apartment and there wasn’t so much as a wreath or a few lights? You’d have dumped me so fast.”
“No, I’d never,” he protested. “I always knew you were the one.”
“Pshaw!” she scoffed, showing her age just a bit. “You’d never have wanted any part of a girl who didn’t trim a tree or two every year. If these boys who work so hard for you don’t get a chance to win their fair maiden, you’ll never forgive yourself. And I’ll never forgive you either.”
Bang! I heard the deal close at that moment. Of course Mrs. Claus would never stay mad at her Santa. But he wanted to make her happy and trusted her judgment. So…there we went. Approval granted. Our mate was going to see how we decorated for the holidays.
