Jim took another gulp of the holiday punch as he looked at his drunken office colleagues making fools of themselves. It was 7 p.m. on the Friday night before Christmas and the annual company holiday party was in full swing. But Jim wasn't in much of a mood to party. His girlfriend had broken up with him just a few weeks earlier, and he had come to the party unattached. Of course, a lot of his coworkers were single, and it didn't stop them from having fun at the party, or from hooking up. Office fraternization was discouraged as a matter of firm policy, but everyone knew the annual office party was an excuse for hooking up. So far, though, no one showed an interest in hooking up with Jim.
This year someone had the great idea of making it a costume party. Jim looked around and had to admit that many of the costumes were elaborate and creative. Jim, on the other hand, had been too busy to think much about a costume. So, he just came as himself. He seemed to be the only one without a costume, so he felt awkward, and he was looking for a ripe opportunity to leave.
He decided he would make a show of mingling and reveling to whoever might be watching by circling once more around the party. He would try the punch bowl and cookies in the conference room down the hallway. Then he would make a discreet exit, trying to avoid any of his bosses. He didn't think anyone would miss him.
When he got to the conference room, it was jammed full of people. Christmas lights -- no, "holiday" lights, per the recently circulated company memo -- were strung around the otherwise darkened room and pop versions of well-known Christmas carols were blasting from an unseen speaker. Jim pushed his way through the crowd of costumed office workers toward the punch bowl. One more drink and that would be enough party for him, he thought.
Finally, he made it to the table with the bowl. The punch was mostly gone but there was enough for at least one good drink or more.
As he picked up the ladle an unfamiliar voice sounded next to him.
"Would you get some for me, please?" the voice asked.
Jim was struck by the sound of the voice. It was feminine, and high-pitched, with a lyrical, musical quality. It bore the trace of an accent he could not place. He turned around to see who the owner of the voice was.
He didn't see her at first. He had to look down just a bit. She was quite short -- under five feet tall. She was dressed in a startlingly short, form-fitting green dress gathered at the waist by a thick black belt and trimmed in white at the collar, sleeves, and hem. Her legs were bare, which to Jim seemed odd to see in such a short dress this time of year, and she wore black shoes with gold-colored buckles and very high but chunky heels. She wore a green fuzzy cap with white trim and a white tassel. Her hair was straight, medium-length, and raven-black. She had a slightly upturned nose and high, apple cheeks. Even in the dim light he could see that the eyes staring up at him were an arresting dark, bold blue. She grinned at him with the most dazzlingly white and perfectly straight teeth he had ever seen.
And her ears were pointed.
Jim nodded at her in appreciation.
"That's a great costume."
"Thank you so much! But it's not really a costume," she replied in a manner than struck Jim as unusually animated, even at a party where everyone was drunk.
It was a big company, with a lot of employees, and Jim didn't know everyone who worked at it, but he was still surprised that he had never seen this woman before. She was strikingly pretty, and he would have thought he would have noticed her. It felt good to have such a hot coworker paying attention to him.
"I don't think we've met," Jim said. "I'm Jim."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Jim," she said. The tone and lilt of her voice were unlike anything Jim had heard. It seemed to make her words dance. "I'm Alyasa."
He didn't think he had heard that right. "Eliza?" he asked.
"No, silly boy, Alyasa."
"Alyasa," Jim repeated slowly to make sure he got it right. "That's an unusual name. But it's nice. So, what division do you work in?"
She smiled at him and he could swear her eyes sparkled.
"Oh, I don't work here," she said with the slightest emphasis on the last word.
That did not make any sense to Jim. She did not seem to be attached to anyone at the party, and only employees and significant others were invited to it. Jim had the feeling he was being played with, but he was buzzed and she was gorgeous and he did not mind.
"I see," he said. "So where do you work?"
"The North Pole," she said to him without pausing.
"Well, sure, of course," he said. "That explains the, ah, costume. I'm guessing you must be an, um, elf."
"I am an elf. You are right about that," Alyasa replied. "But I already told you, this isn't a costume."
"Oh, oh, I see. Yes," said Jim. "That would be your, uh, working outfit."
"Now you've got it," Alyasa replied. "By the way, aren't you going to get me that drink?"
"I'm sorry! How rude of me," Jim replied. He ladled punch into two cups, one for each of them, and handed a cup to her.
He raised his cup to her.
"Here's to chance meetings with pretty elves at holiday parties," he said, feeling emboldened.
"You are as courteous as you are handsome, Jim," she replied and flashed her brilliant smile at him again.
"You are too kind, Alyasa," Jim said. "I have to say; those ears are really impressive." They were. Jim could see no evidence of where the costume ear tips joined the real flesh of her ear. It was a professionally done job, and it must have taken a long time. He couldn't imagine how she could have done it herself.
"Well, I wouldn't be much of an elf without them, would I?" she said in her lilting, sing-songy voice.
"So, what do you do at the North Pole?" he asked her.
"How thoughtful of you to ask me, Jim," she said. "Mostly, I make toys. But some years I help Santa deliver presents, too. I like that part best. It feels good to travel. We elves don't get out that much. It's a busy life. And to tell you the truth, elvish men are a little dull. Not like you, Jim."
Jim noticed that each time she said his name it seemed to pierce him all the way through. It might just have been the punch but it almost seemed like he was getting drunk on her presence and the enchanting tone and timbre of her voice.
"What about you, Jim? Do you like your work? You seem very smart. You must be very good at what you do."
"Well, I don't know about that," he replied. "I like what I do, I guess. I just won a pin for being the employee of the quarter in my division. So, that's something."
He thought her eyes would burst they opened so wide.
"May I see your pin, Jim?" she said. "It's so dark in here. How about if you show it to me in the hallway?"
That seemed like a fine idea to Jim. He wouldn't mind escaping the crush of the crowd in the conference room, and the brighter hallway light would give him a better chance to see his lissome elvish companion more clearly. He pushed his way through the throng of people and Alyasa followed behind him.
Out in the hallway he could see her more plainly, and she was as hot under the fluorescent light of the hallway as she was in the dark conference room. Hotter, even. The green elf costume perfectly molded the curves of a petite but voluptuous figure. And she moved with indescribable grace. She didn't walk down the hallway so much as glide.
He remembered why they had left the conference room. His hands reached in his pocket and pulled out the pin. It was a little, cheap, unimpressive thing, made of plastic and metal, nominally meant to be worn on one's lapel and to show off the company logo with pride, but really meant to be tucked away in a drawer and never looked at again.
Alyasa, nonetheless, seemed impressed. She oohed and ahhed in a way that was more musical than Jim imagined possible.
"Jim, that's so impressive."
"Well, not really, but thanks. I had a good quarter, I suppose," he said.
He held it up between his thumb and forefinger to display it better under the light. Suddenly the point of the pin stuck into his finger. He jerked his hand up and the pin went flying.
In a flash Alyasa stepped forward and reached out for it. Jim's jaw dropped at speed and grace of her movement. In a fraction of a second she had crossed several feet across the floor and now she was standing, motionless, on one foot, with her other leg stretched behind her in a straight line parallel to the floor, and her opposite arm stretched forward in a straight line in the opposite direction. At the tips of her outstretched fingers lay the pin.
In that position, the green minidress rode up her backside, and Jim noticed that her pert, rounded ass was almost left uncovered. Holding that pose, with what seemed to Jim impossible poise and stillness, she looked back at him, somehow retaining her balance. She grinned at him again, and this time Jim could have sworn there was an impish quality to the gleam in her eye. She straightened up. She stood in front of him once again.
"You should be more careful with your things, Jim," she chided him, shaking her head slightly.
"Do you mind if I hold on to this for a bit? I don't want you to drop it again or lose it."
"Sure, that's no problem," he said. Screw the pin, he thought. If she wanted to hold it he was more than happy to let her do that.
They walked down the hallway further until they came to a part of the office with no partygoers. They were alone, it seemed.
