Tales From The Workshop; Promotions

Ginger strode from her bathroom and scrutinized her reflection in a full-length mirror. The points of her ears were just visible behind the looping blonde curls that framed her face. Her voluminous locks could have made Farrah Fawcett envious. Gigi, to her friends, was a prime example of a young adult female elf. Her height was above-average; at four feet, seven and three-quarter inches. Most of her peers would admit she was one of the most stunning she-elves at the North Pole. She spent much of her free time exercising, which blunted her seemingly boundless energy and helped her sleep. One of the added benefits was how it sculpted her body.

The future was promising for that young lady. Gigi grew up in the home of a mail clerk and cafeteria cook. She had applied herself at school and set her sights to hit well above her parents. Now, in her third year at Headquarters, she was on the cusp of something big. Her success had manifested by way of a laser-like focus and personable manner. Everyone felt like Ginger was their best friend.

However, no one had any idea she was a shark, tirelessly hunting for weakness in others. Very little went unnoticed when she passed through the toy-factory-turned-logistics-center. Her ambition to be part of Santa's innermost circle and to have her finger on the very pulse of each Christmas was all-consuming. Rules had been broken along the way, and some rivals had been surreptitiously brushed aside. Great effort had been made so no one was the wiser. There were strict policies set in the labor agreement meant to thwart that kind of intrigue.

The only fault Ginger's unwitting associates could find with their up-&-coming teammate was her vanity.

Her robe crumpled around her ankles. Her svelte body twisted, and ice-blue eyes swept downward. She noted how the line of her flat stomach disappeared behind a flaring hip. For the past year, the she-elf had been working to accentuate her tiny waist by building up her posterior. Pistol squats and other tortures had forged an ass unmatched within her race.

An elven uniform was laid out on the bed. Gigi's connection in the Quartmaster's Office had pulled some strings to get her some verdant, non-regulation leggings. She slid her shapely ankles through each cuff. The garment clung to every single curve, as if painted on, and Ginger enjoyed how they brighten spirits among the male in the office. She then donned her favorite angora sweater dress and a common workshop vest. The beauty turned to-&-fro, confirming her outfit was free of wrinkles. A belt, curly-toed shoes, some jewelry, and a traditional cap completed the ensemble.

Satisfied, the she-elf balled her fists and failed to contain a hop of excitement. Her jingle bell pendent chimed, as if in approval.

With that said, there was something Ginger felt was amiss and she paused. Her expression melted to one of vexation, and her thoughts ran to the thing she coveted more than anything else. Breasts. Gigi was flat. The greedy stares that tracked other, more buxom females were especially irksome to her. It didn't help how the most generously endowed ladies seemed to be in positions of greater influence. Ginger sometimes found herself scrutinizing big, pert tits as they strained the conservative uniforms of their respective owners. She longed to be noticed as she entered a room rather than needing to glance back to catch boys fixated on her miniskirt. Ginger briefly pushed her misquote-bites together and sighed.

"Come on, girls." She beckoned sarcastically and turned to leave.

Gigi reminded herself how that night was going to be special, and her smile slowly returned. She floated through her apartment and out the front door. The exterior wreath swayed on its nail, and Gigi made sure to straighten it before descending from her stoop to a community walkway.

The view from the railing still struck Ginger as impressive. She was multiple stories above a bustling subterranean city. Evergreens adorned with Christmas lights lined the boulevard at the foot of her housing block. The route ran for some distance before emptying into a broad public square. The engineering required to create such a place gave the elvish towers, catwalks, and buttresses a unique character. The roof of ice let the Northern Lights shine through. Carols, ever-present, drifted above the sound of her chattering kin. All of it, Ginger thought as she descended the stairs to the pavement, was nothing compared to her next destination.

Ginger was going to Santa's house.

Ginger had been walking for a while when she heard her name. The shouting voice was a familiar one. "Geej! Wait up!" She turned to greet the young elf.

"Hello, Perce."

She broke stride as her childhood friend struggled to jog and don his vest simultaneously. Percy had obviously lost track of time... again. Random sprouts of dark brown hair were protruding from beneath his cap, and the tail of his belt needed to be secured.

Percy's biggest vice was video games. Swearing into his gaming headset was how the young elf spent nearly every free minute. The consequences of his lifestyle were he typically arrived at work strung out on caffeine and struggled with performance minimums.

Percy's connection to the attractive she-elf had formed early in their schoolyard days. On top of their families being close, he had proven himself able to acquire most anything; usually through charm but sometimes via guile. As they matured, Ginger learned Percy was as useful in collecting information as he had been in obtaining trinkets and sweets. Percy liked being where the action was, and that frequently centered around Gigi's march to the top. Furthermore, Ginger's development into a knockout kept him happy to wait in the wings for his chance.

Ginger had helped Percy get a job in her office, to keep him close a hand, and put in extra hours so he could keep it. A few accounts had Percy's name on them but were handled by her.

The pair hugged when Percy caught up. As usual, he was reluctant to let go after she ended their embrace. He had never met anyone who smelled as sweetly as Gigi.

Both elves had been called to their supervisor's office that afternoon. It was there they had learned of an invitation to the Cringle Residence scheduled for that evening. Few details were given, and Ginger had mentally sifted through her transgressions to pinpoint a potential negative impetus for the meeting. Nothing was mentioned about the need for a union representative, therefore, the young lady allowed herself to grow optimistic over the following hours.

"Hold on one sec," admonished Gigi. "You need to fix your belt." Percy did as instructed. She ran her delicate fingers along his brow so his bangs half-resembled having been combed. Gigi then brushed at creases in Percy's vest when he straightened up. He loved when she did that, even if it was only because she did not want their association to reflect poorly on her.

Ginger had time to size up Percy. He was not very tall. Some softness could be seen around the elf's jaw and midsection because he snacked while blazing away on first-person shooters. Broad shoulders and high cheekbones were among his better attributes. In fact, Percy had the potential to be a handsome guy, she admitted, if he would just show some pride in how he cared for himself. There was more than a passing resemblance to his father, who had risen through the ranks of ironworkers and was as hard as the peening hammer he swung each day.

"You wouldn't be rushing if you would cut back on the video games."

"Maybe," Percy deflected. "But the eye-hand coordination will come in handy when I can transfer to the Loadmasters." The young elf often talked of being a part of the elite group charged with packing Mr. Claus' bag each year. However, his career placement scores left much to be desired.

Percy rested a hand on the she-elf's shoulder as he hitched up one of his socks. He briefly thought about how nice it would be to run his hand down Ginger's back before cupping her buttocks. The daydream was interrupted when he nearly fell from Gigi brushing his hand away.

"You know the Loadmasters handle over 100,000 gifts every day, all year long, right? Maybe try exercising too."

The pair made their way to the hub of the cavernous metropolis. They snaked through the gathering foot traffic, toward a conspicuous bank of elevators. Their instructions had been to find, "... the cab furthest to the left, and then go one more."

"Have you ever seen a special elevator where we're headed?" Percy's tone was skeptical.

"I don't think so. I use the express lifts when I go up to the surface for my longer runs, but they're over on the right."

Percy and Ginger examined the elevators when they arrived. Each shaft was set behind panels of green stone. Gigi liked the Art Deco design etched into the brass doors. The crowd thinned as they walked, until the bank of elevators appears to die at a corner. Nothing was on the adjoining wall except more stone. The two friends looked around, at a loss as to what to do next.

Gigi looked at her watch. "We have five minutes."

Percy glanced down and called his companion's attention to the floor. The number "1" was set into a medallion on the floor. "Well, there we go. It's..." The crisp tone of a silver bell rang on their left. They both spun in surprise toward the source of the sound.

Another elevator stood open where nothing had been just moments before. The alabaster 'Up' arrow was illuminated.

"I love this place," Gigi gushed.

"Holy..."

Ginger cut the elf off with a sharp 'shh' before he could finish. "Try not to talk like you do in your game lobbies while we're in front of Father-Fucking-Christmas." She didn't wait for a response before she dragged Percy into the waiting cab.

The ride up was faster than what Ginger was used to. There was only one button indicating a level somewhere above them, and it was already lit. The doors slid silently shut. The duo felt themselves subject to an acceleration, which was gradual at first but grew at a surprising rate. A moment of near weightlessness took hold as the conveyance braked. Percy shifted nervously when the elevator did not immediately open. The same silver bell sounded again before the doors parted.

The interior of the home was immaculate. The pair stepped into a picturesque Victorian foyer, which was lit by sconces set along the rich wood paneled walls. The floor was a mosaic, and an elaborate depiction of evergreen garland ran along the periphery of the room. Poinsettias sat atop a console table across from the elevator.

Percy notice a fresh cutting of mistletoe hanging above what he assumed was the front door and immediately cursed his luck for not arriving via that route.

"Of course Santa lives here," Gigi whispered as her face lit with awe. "It's perfect."

An elf's voice drew their attention down a hallway that led deeper into the house. "Ginger, Percy, this way, please. You are right on time."

An older elf slid off a chair and away from a table that were both a bit too large for him. As they drew nearer, Gigi could see the mature elf wore the suit of a division head. The pair respectfully removed their caps.

"Hello, my name is Gervis. I'm the Assistant Director of Personnel Division." He extended a hand to the younger elves. "Make yourselves comfortable. Mr. Cringle is running a few minutes late."

Personnel? Ginger wondered silently. What could this be about? She quickly ran through the list of her offenses again.

They found themselves in a salon. Gigi turned her mind to absorbing as many details as possible. Bookcases, paintings, and a large fireplace were interspersed between doorways. She guessed one of the doors led to the kitchen, based on the visible spring hinges. A nearby portal connected to a formal dining room. A pair of French doors, inset with beveled glass, were closed but a warm light emanated from the room beyond. The landing of a staircase could be seen down another hallway. A modest fire was burning in the inglenook. A nine-foot-tall Douglas Fir stood on one side of the hearth. It was decorated in the traditional style. A chair with a high back and rolled arms flanked the other side. A tufted sofa faced the flames.

The odors of pine, wood smoke, and pipe tobacco hung in the in the air.

Gervis broke her concentration. "Can I get either of you something to drink? I can provide tea, coffee, hot chocolate, egg nog...?"

"May I trouble you for a Cup of Cheer?" Percy queried.

Gigi stepped with her full weight on the toes of her companion.

The Assistant Director replied with a diplomatic smile, "This is technically a work meeting so stronger drinks are not allowed. However, you are entitled to overtime."

"I'll be sure to submit a timecard," Percy offered through gritted teeth.

"Miss?"

"Hot chocolate, please."

Gervis nodded and turned to a serving cart near the kitchen door.

Gigi's face snapped toward Percy, who was already glaring at her. She hissed. "Really, Percy?"

Percy mouthed, "I'm nervous. Sue me."

Gervis returned with Gigi's hot chocolate. "Please have a seat." He indicated the sofa. "You must excuse me. I was finishing some paperwork before you arrived."

The pair continued to study the room as time dragged on. Ginger placed her beverage on an end table and smoothed her dress over her lap after she lifted herself onto the cushions. Percy folded his hands in an effort to keep from fidgeting. The spines of books on the nearest bookshelf had Gigi's attention when a growing shadow caught her eye.

Santa Claus had arrived. He had passed through the double doors without them noticing, and the two elves scrambled to their feet as he rounded the tree. The saint was clothed in a smoking jacket, pajama pants, and matching slippers. He appeared to be five-foot-ten. The broad face, rosy cheeks, and white beard were all in accord with the old poem. The light from the fire backlit him, which gave an added air of drama.

Ginger smiled and stared at him. "Good evening, Santa."

"Well, nice to meet you Ginger. Welcome to my home." His voice deep and buttery. The she-elf thought it carried an unearthly warming quality. Santa turned his eyes to Percy.

"It's an honor to be here." The words caught in Percy's throat, and he coughed.

"Hello, Percy." Santa offered a handshake to Percy and it took a beat for the young elf to take the queue.

Ginger wasted no time in gripping the hand and shaking it gently. She found a similar warmth in his grasp.

"Please sit so we can chat."

The elves returned to the sofa, and Santa claimed the arm chair by the fire.

"Now then," Santa began, "You have been invited here so we can discuss the future."

Gigi tensed and felt her weight shift forward ever so slightly. She was intrigued but tried to disguise it. The firelight twinkled in her eyes as she watched Santa set his pipe off to the side.

"How can we help, sir?" Ginger admonished herself for allowing so much excitement into her voice.

Santa let out a good-natured chuckle. "My dear, I will say this: Christmas comes every year, regardless of whether or not we meet our yearly obligations. Riding around the world in one night is not my most important job. It is my responsibility to develop the talents of every laborer, every elf, in my employ." Santa spread his hands in an inclusive gesture. "I trust the supervisors who report to me, like my friend Gervis, to uphold the standards we have agreed upon. However, I take a more hands-on approach in certain cases."

Ginger and Percy couldn't believe their ears.

"So the real question is: 'How can I help you?'"

Percy's mind scrambled for a coherent response but he could only muster, "Uummm..."

Santa's eyes rested on him, and he said, "It's OK. That was a rhetorical question."

Gervis carried an armload of files to his supervisor, and Santa took the top two folders. Gervis then moved to the side, half in shadow.

Santa adjusted his glasses and looked at the first dossier. "Ginger..."

"Yes,... sir?" The butterflies in the young lady's stomach went into overdrive. Gigi gripped the edge of the sofa to control her anticipation.

"It says here your performance evaluations have been outstanding for the last two years. You have outpaced every other account manager in your division, while also achieving one of the best vendor satisfaction ratings among your peers. How have you been able to do that?"

Pride promptly replaced the butterflies, and Gigi gave an honest reply.

"Being hired into The Workshop has been a dream come true. I know I'm still learning, so I simply give everything I can to suprass the requirements of my current job. I make connections with others easily. I think I can use that ability to make things better. Ultimately, I want to prove I'm capable of planning and contributing to every Christmas Eve."

"Well said, young lady."

The saint gave another wholesome smile and turned a page in the folder. "There has been some discussion about that, and I would like to know what you think about a transfer."

"To where, sir?"

Mr. Cringle handed the paperwork to Gervis, and Gervis delivered it to Ginger. She looked down at a form that listed her name and a strange position title; 'Adjunct Secretary of Services.'

"I'm not familiar with this title."

Gervis immediately chimed in, "Adjuncts are a classification designated for special asset development. Functionally, you would be working to assist the Secretary with basic functions while learning the inner workings of the Services Section executive offices. There is a high likelihood of multiple retirements within the next few years, and Mr. Claus feels an infusion of youthful energy could be a boon to the section's culture."

Ginger's mind was turning over the offer in her head when a thought occurred to her. "Gervis, Personnel is under Services. Would that mean I would be your supervisor?"

The elf raised his chin slightly. "Technically, yes, I would be submitting recommendations and requests that would cross your desk. However, the authority of your position resides with the Secretary alone. Think of your position as either a paid internship or a long-term probationary assignment."

"There is a significant difference between your current post and this new job offer." Santa laughed gently. "We always strongly recommend candidates read over the entire packet. Accepting the offer will be effective immediately. All policies and directives will be enforced in kind."

Gigi struggled to keep her excitement in check. She understood the wisdom in completing the necessary due diligence. On the other hand, she was confident she could 'color within the lines' well enough to not run afoul of any red tape. She turned pages and scanned the documents as best she could. A great deal of the packet consisted of the collective bargaining agreement for supervisory union members. She did not have a working understanding of their contract so she did slow down to look for any disconcerting phrases in the 'legalese.' Eyes were on her, and Ginger felt a mounting pressure to say something. Her perusal of the forms ended before she reached the discipline matrix for violations of policy.

"May I borrow a pen?"

Santa caught the she-elf with an unexpected but very characteristic laugh, "Ho ho ho!" He continued, "Congratulations, my dear."

Gervis pointed out the various lines for signatures and initials. He took care to point out where she would sign to receive conditional representation from the union and a signed understanding of the full scope of her duties under the Secretary.

Ginger took a deep breath and made her final mark on the papers.

Gervis took them and his pen from her before he extended his hand in congratulations. The new Adjunct Secretary of Services stood, took it, and grinned; nearly overcome by emotion.