Title: Ageless
Fandom: Christmas Classics (such as Santa Claus, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, How Mrs. Claus Saved Christmas, and Jack Frost) and a cameo from another certain ageless classic
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Nicholas/Layla, Rudolph/Clarice
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: One Christmas Day morn, Missus Claus awakens, knowing her husband is in trouble.
Word Count: 2876
Written For: The author's 12 Days of Christmas 2023, and also fulfilling Fan FlashWorks Challenge 429: Amnesty: Challenges 424 - 428: Guest, String, Dash, Map, and Rain
Warnings: N/A
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.








Her husband was not home. The sleigh was gone, and so were the chief reindeer. Layla woke with a start, knowing instinctively that the morning sun had already risen on a new Christmas Day and feeling a deep stirring in her gut. She dashed from her bed, pausing only long enough to throw on her thick, winter jacket and then diving through her cottage to a rarely used spot in the basement. Throughout her home, Elves were wringing their hands in despair, and reindeer were trotting back and forth and bucking their antlers in dismay. Something was dreadfully wrong!

She wasn't surprised to see their unannounced guests. Like the rest of those of them who called the North Pole their home, Cornelius, Sam, and especially Jack all had an uncanny sense that warned them when things went awry -- and right now, clearly, all of their senses were screaming at them that last night's flight had gone horribly, tragically wrong. Layla fought back tears as she charged down the basement steps. It wouldn't do to cry now; it would only precious time in getting to her Nicholas! She could cry only after she had completed all she could possibly do to help her husband.

Oh, why had she gone to bed last night? They'd all been feeling a little under the weather this year, but that was no excuse! Just because her beloved Santa had spent centuries making the same flight and always returning safely should never have been reason for her to neglect her duties as a Watcher! She should have stayed home, watched him make his journey, and been there whenever he had needed her help. But she would find him, Layla vowed. She would find him and save him from whatever had kept Christmas from happening while she slumbered!

Even as she made that unspoken promise to her husband, herself, and a world full of children who deserved to know someone cared for them, even if their parents or families might not, even if they had no family or home to call their own, a part of Layla's mind raced over the possible people upon whom she could call to finish the flight or, if need be, even turn back the hands of time itself. That was possible now, for a few select folk. Luckily, she knew every one of them, and she knew exactly the King she could call upon to assist her if his help proved to be needed.

But first of all, she had to find Nicholas! Lifting her long, white hair from her neck, Layla carefully removed a snowflake pendant from around her throat. She tied it to a silver and gold string and dangled it above an ancient map yellowed with age. Thinking only of her husband, Layla closed her eyes. She concentrated on Nicholas, on their many centuries together not only making their marriage work, loving each other despite all their faults, but also making Christmas work and keeping it alive throughout the ages. She concentrated on the way Nick made her feel, how he touched her deepest parts in ways no other ever had or could. They had always been two parts of one whole. Indeed, Layla had even taken over for Santa in years past, when he'd been as sick as she'd been feeling recently.

Her heart swelled with love as she remembered cherished moments from their past together, tender kisses and tenderer vows of love. She remembered the way his skin, hair, and beard felt against her flesh, the way his arms had always provided her the safest haven she'd ever known, the way only he could make her tingle inside and out. The bells on her pointed shoes began to tinkle as Layla let the pendant swing. She felt her necklace drop and opened her eyes to see the spot on the map on which it had landed. Then, instantly, she was moving again, racing as fast as her old legs could carry her, pass the others and into the snow, her pendant clutched in her hand.

Layla had just burst back through the basement door when stampeding hooves sounded before her. Her white-tressed head snapped up to see several reindeer, as well as Elves, running toward her. Cornelius yodeled in alarm, his great, red mustache bristling in terror. The Elemental Jack Frost flitted around her head. "He's -- "

"I know where he is," Layla interrupted, holding up a hand. Everyone instantly came to a stop. "I just don't know if he's -- " In the silence that had fallen around her, her own heartbeat thundered in her ears. After all this many centuries, could her husband have encountered something even his ageless Christmas magic could not stop? Could he be -- She would not even allow herself to think the awful words.

As she struggled to find a different way to word her concerns, the lead reindeer stepped up. She thrust her petite head up high, Jack Frost's icy aura gleaming on her red, dotted bow. "I volunteer," she spoke bravely. Clarice was usually a very timid deer, but now her voice carried smoothly and crystal clear above a clamor of whispers that were starting again.

No one had to ask what the young doe was offering. They all knew, and Layla wasted no time in hopping onto her bare back. None of them were moving as quickly as they wanted out of fear for what they would find when they did reach Santa and his team. Cornelius yodeled again and impatiently threw his pickaxe through the gathered crowd. Elves and reindeer alike dove out of the way, and Clarice, with Missus Claus astride her back, took off running.

"GOD SPEED!"

"BRING SANTA HOME!"

A chorus of voices sounded behind them, but neither female was listening. Sam the Snowman opened the front door of Santa's cottage for them and held it as they flew out of the door and into the frosty air. Clarice was a little doe, and Layla was not the lightest rider, but Clarice struck out through the snow, clouds, and even birds, pumping her furry legs as fast and hard as she could fly. With their life mates on their minds, the two made record time, Layla calling out directions to the young doe and Clarice flying as swiftly as she could. She flew so fast, indeed, that later on, when things were calm once more and they were recollecting that year's terrifying Christmas Day over cups of steaming hot cocoa and sugar cookies, Layla would recall and realize that Clarice might well be a contender for Santa's next team of reindeer, her speed even rivalling that of Dasher, who had always held all their racing records for the deer.

But right now, all they could think of was reaching their favorite males. Sure enough, it wasn't very long before Clarice spotted her beloved through the swirling flakes of snow filling the air and screamed his name. "RUDOLPH!" She was so shocked and horrified by the scene before her that she dipped, almost fainting and losing Missus Claus from her back, but then her anger took over. Her mate had been shot! She ground her teeth, kicked her hind legs, -- and barely darted around a bullet whizzing straight at her!

"I'LL HAVE ALL YER HIDES! AN' BE RICH AN' FAMOUS FROM IT! THEN THEY'LL GIVE ME MY BOY BACK!"

The early morning sun was so bright, especially glistening off of the freshly falling snow, that neither rider nor reindeer could see who spoke, or was firing at them. Clarice ducked a second bullet and then leapt over the third, but more were coming!

They both recognized the next voice immediately. "LAYLA, STAY BACK, WIFE! IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!"

"NONSENSE, NICHOLAS! WHERE YOU GO, I GO!"

"THEN IT'S YER FUNERAL, LADY!"

"LEROY DANIELS, YOAH MOMMA TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN TO SHOOT AT A LADY!" Layla did not even sound like herself as she shouted back at their shooter. All of his information had clicked into her mind the moment after her husband had called to her in warning and fear, not for himself but for her. Now she knew who their shooter was, his entire history, every present they'd ever given him, his father, his child, or even his great great great great great great great great grandfather! She knew, too, that the man was hurting and afraid, and her tongue automatically spoke the words of wisdom and compassion welling in her mind in the poor man's own language. "SHE WOULDN'T WANT YOU DOIN' THIS!"

"NAW, SHE WOULDN'T, BUT THEN IF SHE WERE STILL HERE, SHE WOULDN'TA LET MY BOY BE TAKIN' FROM ME!"

"KILLIN' CHRISTMAS AIN'T GONNA BRING YOAH MOMMA BACK! OR GET YER SON BACK FROM YER EX-WIFE!"

"SHE ONLY TOOK BILLY TO HURT ME!"

"I KNOW, SON, BUT SHOOTIN' US AIN'T TH' ANSWER!"

"NAH," he agreed, "BUT MORE MONEY IS! NOW HOLD STILL, WITCH!"

Leroy again fired his grandpa's shotgun, which had been sitting up, Layla now instinctively knew, until earlier that evening when he'd decided to fill its chamber with bullets and put an end to his heartbroken misery. He'd been in the process of doing just that when he'd heard the reindeers land on his roof. Her beloved husband had known the child was not here, but he'd also recognized a hurting heart in Leroy. Santa had known he could help the poor man, but he'd not expected to be met with a barrage of bullets.

Rudolph bellowed a warning to his mate. Clarice shot up into the air, sailing over the bullet, then dove underneath the next one. Suddenly, Santa's voice boomed, "THAT'S MY WIFE!", and the bullets stopped. The snow also had slowed to an almost stop. Layla and Clarice could see clearly for the first time since their arrival, and both cried out for their mates. Leroy was now crumpled, laid out unconscious from Nicholas' single punch, before Santa's coal black boots. Crimson poured over the black leather, however, crimson coming from Santa's buckling leg.

Clarice set, gracefully even in her startled and fearful state, down on the rooftop. Layla hopped off and rushed toward Santa as Clarice bleated and ran for Rudolph. "We have to get you back to the Pole," she said, gingerly touching his beard.

"It'll heal, Ma," Nicholas whispered. He pulled her to him and nestled in his face in her long, white hair. He inhaled her scent, his snowy white mustache twitching. His red nose wiggled as he fought to keep the tears filling his eyes from flowing down his ruby cheeks. He'd been so afraid, not that he would die at last but that he would never see her again.

"I'm here, Pa. I'm here, Santa." She was too afraid of hurting him to kiss him, but she did touch his beard, his face, and eventually even his leg with caresses as soft as a dove's wing. "How bad are you -- ?"

"The deer are worse," Santa gasped. Layla quickly withdrew her fingers from his leg. Santa's mustache was bristling with his quiet fury. "I never have liked hunting!"

"He's a troubled soul," Layla spoke, glancing over at Leroy. She knew the man was hurting, but even so, she wanted to give him a good, sharp kick. She was even tempted to see what would happen to him if he rolled off of his own roof. That would certainly be one the authorities would never explain!

But there were more important matters pressing at the moment. "We need a healer, wife," Nicholas gasped, grasping Layla's hand in his and squeezing it firmly. He finally allowed a single tear to flow down his cheek. "And Christmas is ruined!"

"Not on my watch, husband," Layla swore, kissing his temple and admonishing herself for having failed to keep watch the night before. Still, she knew who to call, and she did so, gently lifting her husband's arm and tapping into the CBN from his wristwatch.

It did not take long for the Goblin King's face to fill the little dial. Jareth peered at her from his own crystal ball. "Missus Claus! I was wondering when you might call! I knew something was amiss when the Goblins were all screeching this morning."

"Jareth, we need a favor -- "

"For the Clauses? Anything! Just as long as my subjects are happy!"

"They will be," Layla quickly promised. "And in fact," she added, glancing over at Leroy, "I do believe we may have two more for you." She knew well the stories of Leroy and Leroy Billy and knew this Above Ground world held nothing for them any longer. Jareth listened raptly, and within scant moments, the hands of Time itself were turning back.

The following morning, a certain father and son awoke in an oubliette filld with presents to assist them on the new adventure and lives awaiting them. They could care less that they were in a dank, smelly hole in the ground, however, for they were together. They would open their presents only after hours spent hugging onto each other and crying. Layla, meanwhile, snuggled into her husband's thick arm. "You do pack a punch, Santa."

"Ho!" he laughed, pulling up the reindeers' reins. His snowy white mustache twitched. "Never anger Father Christmas!" His words were not simply a brag, Layla knew. It took a tremendous deal to anger Father Christmas, but when it finally happened -- his wrath fell short of very few souls in their world, her own included. She watched as Hermey and Cornelius loosened the reins and Rudolph and Clarice dashed to each other. They embraced as Layla snuggled more closely into her husband's warm side.

"I dare say, Santa! I think I never want to move from here!"

"We're never spent a Christmas Day in the sleigh yet, wife, and we're not about to start! But it has been a long time since we've done something else." Standing, he swept her into his arms before she could protest and carried her over their hearth and back into their little home that held so many fond memories for them. He could still recall, with ease, when the place had not been much more than a one-room shed, but it had sufficed during those first, cruel Winters when they'd originally been pushed to the North Pole because most of the world had wanted to stop believing in them.

Belief was slowly being restored, though, and he knew there was at least one father and son in the world whose belief had been restored. They'd left Leroy with his memories even as their old friend, Jareth, had turned back time so that they could make their deliveries to the rest of the world. They had delivered to Leroy Senior and Junior as well. They would only find the true usefulness of some of their more unique presents as they ventured out of the oubliette and further into the city. As for Sally Sue, who'd left Leroy for a richer man and then taken his son not because she had ever loved or cared for her own flesh and blood child but rather just to further hurt his father and cease any protests he may have wielded against her and her new beau in the court rooms, she was currently screaming, having awakened in her bed filled with coal and another, dark, and small substance. Rudolph and Clarice had taken particular glee in filling the nasty woman's bed with their own presents.

But all of that was behind them now in yet another adventure to fulfill an additional chapter in the ongoing histories of the lives of the Clauses. It had been a long and harrowing night, for once Christmas Eve proving to seem even longer and more stressful than the rest of the year throughout which they slaved over creating the perfect presents for all the world's children. There were billions of happy kids in the world this morning, thanks to ageless magic and, Nicholas thought, his mustache twitching and a mischievous sparkle gleaming in his old, blue eyes, his beloved wife. He might still be able to pack a punch, but Layla was as loyal, determined, protective, and loving of him as ever she had been! He knew he was lucky and blessed to have her as his devoted wife, and he showed her every bit of his endless love, gratitude, and appreciated as he laid her down in their matrimonial bed, the first bed in which they'd made love all those millenia ago as newlyweds, and rained kisses down upon her.

Her husband's kisses were more sugary than the sweetest candy canes or Christmas cookies, and suddenly, Layla found herself feeling like a teenager again. Perhaps this was true Immortality: the ageless love that kept them feeling young again and renewed no matter what they endured or how ancient they truly were. But she did feel young again, in his arms and with his love surrounding her. She felt young, loved, and appreciated, and knew that what they shared was truly the most priceless gem throughout all the ages. "Oh, Nicholas!" she cried out jubilantly.

Bells rang, celebrating another wonderfully happy and some might even say miraculous Christmas Day. "Ho! Ho! Ho!"




The End