Mr. C and the HO, HO, HOE Pt. 02

I was going to post this in Sci-Fi, but the first part was in "Loving Wives", and I didn't want to lose any readers. All though they might wish I had when then read it.

Part 1 is, without a doubt, the most popular story I have ever written. That being said, I decided you guys deserve a Part 2 Christmas present. I hope this does not alienate any of my fans, or new readers. But this is my story. And my Christmas present to you. I hope you enjoy it. You came look at part 1 and enjoy the premise. Not much sex (Santa doesn't screw and tell-much. Heh, Heh, Heh.) It did tend to run on quite a bit and will not appeal to everyone. But as I mention frequently-IT'S MY STORY! And it gives a little closure. So lighten up and enjoy. It's Christmas, for goodness sake.

So I thought about it and figured what the heck, I could tie up some loose ends and give it a happy ending. I pretty much like it, it's not quite as good as part 1, but hey, it's my story. Enjoy it or not. Merry Christmas.

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I got into the red Custom Ford F-10000, err, 'sled' and woke up the 'reindeer.' We booked out towards Europe, and as I passed Greenwich, England, I shut off the time stasis setting and pressed on with the, uh, deliveries. I finished up (it's pretty easy with GPS, Satellite communication, and 'magic'), and, by 5:00 a.m., I had finished, except for Palisades Park, New Jersey. I landed on the roof and made my way to the chimney. This would be snug, as I had added a few pounds to the look. Down the chimney, I came with a bound.

Ooh, my aching backside.

The tree was a little small this year. Mary O'Brien was asleep, curled up on the couch. I put the presents under the tree, wondering why they had not written to ask for anything this year.

She stirred and opened her eyes.

"Oh, Santa!! I didn't expect to see you this year."

"Well, I'm running a little late. I had some unpleasant business to handle." I blushed and grinned. "As a matter of fact, yours is the last house on my list."

She smiled a devastating smile. Not sultry, just pretty. "Someone on the naughty list had to be taken care of??"

I can blush on occasion.

"Some thing like that," I said.

"Well, I needed to talk to you. We won't be here next year, and I wanted to thank you for being so kind to us." She extended her hand, and started to sniffle.

"Where are you going? WHY are you going??" I asked.

By now, she was in tears.

She wouldn't say anything, just lowered her eyes and looked at the floor.

I pressed. "Mary, what is going on??"

She hesitated.

"We are losing the house. They are foreclosing. I don't know where we are going to go, or what we are going to do."

I was stunned. I thought for a minute.

I made a decision.

"Don't do anything. Don't sign anything or make any decisions about moving or anything like that. Don't tell your children anything except that you're not moving."

"What are you talking about," she sniffled. "We have to move. They are coming the day after tomorrow to evict us."

"Nah, I don't think so. Just trust me, o.k.?? Give me two weeks to work this out. Then you can decide."

She looked at me like I really wasn't real, took a deep breath, and sighed.

"Every Christmas, for the past ten years or so, you have been here for us. Sometimes just as emotional support, other times with actual physical aid........

"I will trust you. I have no one else, no friends or relatives........ I'll wait."

She raised her face and looked into my eyes.

'Wow,' I thought. 'Don't screw this up, Chris.'

I resisted every impulse I had, save one-I kissed her nose.

"Don't worry, we'll get past this."

I went out to the Custom-made F-10000 enclosed cabin class sled and fired up the twin Rolls Royce RB-911-6 'Reindeer' engines. (All Rolls Royce turbine engines are named after English or Scottish rivers. Except these. They were custom-made for yours truly, putting out close to 45,000 lbs of thrust each. Hence the name 'Reindeer.')

(My story.)

They pulled us up, up, and away and we set course for the North Pole. (Cool, HUH??)

I turned the radar jammers on, and we disappeared from sight on the radar at NORAD. I punched some buttons, threw some switches, and suddenly we appeared to be a G-IV outbound from Teterboro to White Horse, Canada.

My mind raced at a thousand miles an hour, in a thousand different directions.

I had to stop the foreclosure, stabilize her home situation, and find out about the kid's status, her marital status, background check on her citizenship, health, and financial status all came into play. And I had to do it in two days.

No pressure.

I arrived at the North Pole in record time, and pulled up to the hangar doors. The ground crew was waiting, and they put the craft away. I hoofed it to the house, and Jeeves met me with an old-fashioned glass, full of Chivas Regal- on the rocks. I pulled my coat off, went to the master suite, and stripped down. A nice hot shower helped me to think. I toweled off, and repeated the spell I used to adjust my weight, beard, and hair color.

Jeeves was waiting as I walked into my bedroom. "No guests, Sir?"

"Not yet, Jeeves. But I'm working on it. Give me a couple of weeks."

"Very good, Sir," my major domo replied.

I went to the walk-in closet and pulled out a pair of boot-cut jeans, cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved western shirt off the hangers. I looked in the mirror and saw a pretty good-looking guy, looking to be about 40 to 45 years old; 6'3'' tall, with no extraneous body fat, clear-eyed and intelligent, muscular, good looking six-pack, and a tight little tush. (Vivianne used to like looking at my tush. SIGH!!)

I grinned a little bit.

"Not bad for 189 years old. Let's see if I still got it."

I strode to my office and plopped in the orthopedic desk chair.

'Oh, that felt good,' I whispered. I hit the intercom button and was immediately connected with my Chief of Staff, Cassandra.

"Welcome home, Chief," she bubbled.

"Thanks, kid. Good to be back.

"Business. I need you, Esmeralda, and Igor and Stanley in my office ASAP."

"Be right there, Chief." The connection broke.

I had pulled a 15-year-old Cassandra off the streets of Chicago 75 years ago. She was desperate and looked like she was starving, homeless, and freezing her little tushie off. Her 'pimp' had turned her out on Christmas Eve and told her not to come back till she had made a $100. I had my security visit him, and after that, he sang soprano in the local church choir. He was also on the naughty list for 50 years.

I took her home, cleaned her up, and then sent her to school, eventually to Notre Dame University. She flourished, graduating top of her class. When she turned 23, we introduced her to the SPELL.

She decided to take it, knowing the consequences of her actions.

She would not age.

She would be here for the rest of her life.

She would be my 'protege' and my second in command. She acquired a few mystical skills and flourished. Blonde haired, blue eyes and a knockout figure. Such was daughter # 1.

I later told her that, actually, she could leave any time she wanted to. She would lose all her powers and start to age at that instant.

She thought about it for a long time.

She had been here for 75 years. She had no basis in her former life. She wanted to stay with her 'family'. Vivianne thought I was having an affair with her.

But I looked at her like the daughter we had never had. Yes, Mr. C is an old softie.

Igor and Stanley came into my office. They were the best of my troll squad.

They were also extremely loyal.

Just not terribly intelligent.

"Merry Christmas, Chief. How was the flight?" said Igor.

"Interesting, to say the least."

"Yeah, we heard about Miss Vivianne." Stanley looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry, Chief."

"Hey, it is what it is. I guess I wasn't enough anymore for Mrs. C."

Both of my guys got quiet.

Then Cassie blew in.

"Chief. Sorry about the shrew queen. I didn't suspect anything, or I would have blown the whistle long ago. It really would have hurt your image if she had been caught, not to mention breaking your heart."

She skewered me with her look. I looked at her and saw only the little girl I felt I had rescued from the streets of Chicago so long ago.

"Thanks, Cassie," I returned.

"Any time, ....Dad."

Then she smiled and turned to Igor.

"HELLOOO, Igor," she gushed, batting her eyelids.

I would not have believed that a big, brutish, bronze skinned ogre could blush.

But he did, and he dropped his eyes as he spoke.

"AAWW, Miss Cassandra, I wish you wouldn't talk like that."

Cassie was giggling at his discomfort, and then Esmeralda blew in. She shot the evil eye at Igor and Cassie and turned to me and said, "Sorry, Chief, my condolences on the marital problems. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I've always said."

Did anyone have a good word to say about Vivianne?? I guess not. I didn't realize I was that blind.

Esmeralda I had picked up from the slums of Mexico City about 65 years earlier. She was an orphan, about 6 years old, and was pretty close to death. I took her home, and she became our 'other' daughter. When she turned 20 years old, she went to Princeton and graduated with honors and a degree in financial administration (??). I don't know what it means either, but she immediately started the 'business' making a profit.

She also wanted to stay at home, as we were her only family. She had sown some wild oats at Princeton and felt she had it out of her system. Long straight jet black hair, short of stature, tanned completion, and round in all the right places. Daughter # 2.

So she also took the 'SPELL' and moved back home. She was Chief of Security and Production.

Such was my family.

"Oh, by the way, pop," said Esmy, "Mother Nature called and she said she would TALK to you in a day or two. She didn't sound too happy."

Esmy chuckled.

Sigh!! Another female to deal with.

I started with research.

"I need everything on Mrs. O'Brien. Dig deep. All the background you can get."

Cassie said she would get Intell started on it right away.

"Igor, I want you and Stanley to clean up and look like Wall Street Bankers. Tomorrow you're going to pay a visit to the First National Bank of Bergen County, N.J. We will make a 6-month payment on Mrs. O'Brien's mortgage, plus make up all back payments on the loan. Get with Esmey on everything you'll need, and lean on them, if necessary. I want that family to want for nothing until they make a decision. Got it??"

Igor and Stanley both smiled, and nodded their heads vigorously.

"Got it, Chief."

Now, the tasks in front of the Man were not the only problems on the horizon.

It seems Vivianne was trying to make problems for her ex-husband. The Southern house did not show well, being under three and a half feet of snow most of the year.

She was livid, and was reduced to living in Boston (Ohh, the humanity. They didn't even have a decent baseball team.) She contacted a prestigious old name law firm and got an appointment.

The two attorneys who interviewed her drooled over her, and her story, especially when she showed them the settlement she received- and let her dress slide up her thighs, for effect.

"And how many years were you married??" they asked. That's when it all came apart.

"150 years," she answered brightly. As soon as it came out of her mouth, she knew she was cooked.

"I beg your pardon??" said the older man. He looked to be about 60 years old, and couldn't take his eyes off of her legs- til that comment shocked him into the present. The younger guy was briefly shocked, enough to pull his gaze off her magnificent breasts, and focus on her face.

"AHH, just how old are you, Mrs., uhh, ..... Cringle?"

She stuttered, swallowed hard, and said, "179 years old.

"But I haven't aged because of the Mantra."

"THE MANTRA??"

"Yes," she stammered, "we all recited the Mantra when we went to live at the North Pole."

"SECURITY!!!"

Needless to say, the results were about the same at the next five law firms. Just that the last one summoned the police and had her committed.

The 'psych' eval was due in about a week. Meanwhile, she was on suicide watch.

So Chris contacted the law firm in Newark, New Jersey, that they used and got them involved with the divorce. They assured him they'd handle it as soon as Christmas holidays were over. That would work as they were waiting on the 'psych' eval.

Esmeralda got research on the job and they started to dig.

It seems that:

Mary Louise O'Brien Di Guilio, age 42.

Born-- Margaret Hague Maternity Hospital, in Jersey City, N.J.

Married -- Stephen Di Guilio age 37, at the time of death (deceased)

Husband killed in a mob hit 7 years ago.

Children-- Micheal, age 11

Sean, age 8

Constance, age 7

Religion--Roman Catholic

Weight-- 185 lbs.

Height-- 5' 3"

Hair-- Washed out brown

Eyes-- Blue, with small golden flecks.

She was free and clear. Broke, but available.

So this was the info that Igor and Stanley had to work with. They sat and huddled with Esmey until the day after Christmas and then jumped in the Falcon-50 to EWR and a rental car to Hackensack, N.J. and the offices of the First National Bank of Bergen County, N.J. They were ushered into the office of Mr. Ambrose J. Lucceise, president of the bank.

They presented their credentials as representatives of Krause GMBH of Germany. Then they laid the cashiers check for $250,000 on him to cover all the charges against 460 Glen Ave. Mrs. O'Brien was in the clear.

At first, Mr. Lucceise was skeptical of the foreign company. The cashier's check and Stanley telling him to 'keep the change' really set off his radar.

But then Igor slid across the desk the pictures of him in Atlantic City with two strippers, NAKED- in a hotel room.

O.K., they had his attention now.

"Is there a problem, Sir??", asked Stanley.

Igor looked at the pictures.

He turned to Stanley and asked, "Wait a minute, where's his wife?" Then he slapped his head.

"OOH, I'm sorry. I forgot." He looked Mr. Lucceise square in the eye.

"She wasn't there, was she??"

"NO, NO. Absolutely not.

"Let me get the paperwork for you". He rose and, as he raced to his office door, Igor told him to clean up his act, or he would find himself on the 'naughty list'.

Igor's expression seemed to indicate that he was joking.

Or maybe not.

So my guys got what they needed and went to see Mrs. O'Brien to tell her that Santa would be to see her in a few days, and not to do anything till she talked to him. They gave her a sat phone with a pre-loaded number directly to The Man, and told her if there were any problems to call. Any time, day or night. Then they took their leave and left for home. They rolled to Butler Aviation at Newark Airport.

Mission accomplished.

BACK HOME, NORTH POLE

So, two days after Christmas, everything was perking along nicely. Igor and Stanley were coming home and I was making arrangements to go back to New Jersey to talk to Mary. Then a little 'situation' arose.

"Chief," Cassandra buzzed on the intercom, "You have a visitor."

"Who is it, Cassie?"

"MOTHER NATURE, dad".

GROAN. I was hoping to put this off for awhile, but I guess not.

"By all means, Cassandra, show her in".

Her Highness didn't wait to be shown in. She blew through the doors, followed by the two California surfer dudes who always accompanied her. They were 6' 3" approx. 200 lbs., tanned, (I didn't know how they did that at the North Pole, but, then, I didn't know where she kept them. Obviously, Father Time didn't know about them either.)

(Or didn't care!)

I pushed the security button discreetly and rose. "Always a pleasure to see you, Mother", as I extended my hand.

"Cut the shit act, Chris. You need to answer for the stunt you pulled Christmas Eve."

"Stunt?" I asked innocently.

The two Doofs closed the doors and stood on either side, facing me with their arms crossed like they owned the place, as the Boss of the World crossed to my desk and reclined in the chair facing my desk.

Now, Mother Nature is a goddess. No, really, she is. Five feet nine inches tall, 130 pounds, 35-24-35, L-O-N-G black hair down to her ass, and she was wearing a sheath dress, blue and green with red highlights, down to her ankles, deep cleavage, with the girls semi-discreetly on display, and a slit up the left side to mid thigh. Knee high leather boors with four inch heels.

Definitely looks like a cloistered nun.

(HAH!!!)

Her head is surrounded by a wreath of flowers and ivy, with a dark cloud, and low peals of thunder sounding. But she is sharp as a tack.

Well, the doofs stood like that for about five seconds till the doors crashed open and flattened them, leaving them unconscious on the floor. My two security trolls calmly closed the doors and stood over them blushing and grinning at me.

"Sorry, boss." Rocky and Mountain were 6' 6" and 300 lbs. They gently helped the two doofs to their feet and got them to chairs and helped them to sit.

None of this affected Mother Nature. She had turned at the noise at the door, then turned back to face me. "Good thing they're cute", she dead-panned. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes."

The cloud rumbled and a small rain storm erupted.

She flicked her hand and her laptop appeared. (I still don't know how she does that.)

"The Lord is a little upset with you. But He said to let the Council decide on your future. His Son was a trifle more pissed that you missed His birthday party."

"Did He get His birthday present??," I brightly asked.

"Oh, He did. The cease fire and peace talks in southern Somalia were a stroke of genius on your part. You are always good at gifts, Clause. So He agreed with His Father."

"O.K., so what's the problem?? What does the Council think?"

The rain stopped around her head and the clouds parted a little.

"Well, Baby New Year thinks she's a slut, and got what she deserved.

"Cupid says he has a couple of the 'nasty' arrows and offered to 'take her out' if you want.

"The Easter Bunny wants to know if she fucks like a rabbit.

"The Halloween Witch says she's a chip off the old block, but a little stupid for getting caught.

"The Fairies and the Elves are of one mind, and it's not good for her.

"Father Time is still suffering from Alzheimer's and isn't sure who you are. He also wanted

Vivienne's phone number, now that she's available. (The Idiot!!)

"I think we know what YOU think".

"So more or less, every one is on your side. But the fallout is still significant."

"Fallout?? What do you mean?"

"Well, you stopped the Earth from spinning for about six hours. Then you started it up again. When everyone on Earth woke up, it was like they had a hangover. And more then half of the people on the planet don't drink."

He chuckled and said he didn't really mean to do that.

With that, Jeeves walked in with a silver tray. On the tray was a goblet with mead in it. Following him came Cassandra and Esmarelda. They came over to Mr. C's desk and sat on his left and right sides. Jeeves walked over to Mother Nature's right side and offered the goblet to her.

"Madam?" he said.

"OH, THANK YOU, JEEVES," she gushed, and the small storm over her head disappeared and the sun came out.

"If you ever get tired of working here in the cold and snow, my offer of a position still stands," she smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. Chris raised his eyebrows and turned to look at Jeeves. But like a good major domo, he was unfazed.

"Thank you, madam," he intoned.

"Well," said Mother Nature, "I think you have your work cut out for you. Get busy finding a replacement for Vivienne. It's important to your image." She rose and turned to the door, casting sidelong looks at Cassie and Esmy. She rolled her eyes and strode to the door.