There's a lot of build up here -- the sex doesn't get started for a while.
***
"I'm not doing it, Louie."
"Aw, come on, Tina. It's funny."
"No. It wasn't even funny the first time. And definitely not the fourth. I know you don't like humans, but they have families to take care of just like we do. Give it a rest."
"But it's a holiday tradition. Like us."
"You want the big guy to find out?"
"You wouldn't. You went along with it every other year."
"I shouldn't have gone along with it before and I'm done. It's wrong and you know it."
I used to love pranks. For younger elves they're like breathing. But I had just turned 125 and was no longer considered young. And since I'd been ogling one particular woman at Macy's through the cameras, I had started to see humans a little differently. A little more sympathetically. I'd also just completed a degree in Project Management and was hoping for a promotion. If Louie wanted to pull a prank, he'd have to do it without my involvement.
"Spoilsport."
"Whatever. You done with those dolls?"
"You know I'm not."
"So get back to it."
Louie sighed and headed back to the doll building. I knew I'd never win any awards for diplomacy, but not all elves are perky. And let's get this out of the way -- we're not short. Like most elves, I'm tall and very slim. At 5'8', I'm considered average for a female elf. Those Christmas movies where tiny elves have ridiculous baby voices never fail to get a laugh when they're shown at the Pole. They're holiday traditions with us, too.
I did another scan of the monitors in front of me. I'm a voyeur at heart and I love being on call for the IT department right before the Big Bang, as we call it. I'm proud of my part in creating the new technology too. For years we simply recorded kids' conversations with all the Santas out there and then transcribed them, entering kids' wishes by hand into the computer. Now voice recognition software translates the wishes into data, cross-references them with the identity of the child, and then adds the information to the database automatically. The wonders of modern technology have changed even Santa's operations.
My eyes rested on the woman I'd been watching for the past couple weeks in the Macy's toy department. Watching her bending over to talk with the kids in line, I shook my head at the ridiculous "elf" costume she wore. Whose crazy idea was it to put a mini-skirt on a North Pole elf? No one in their right mind would wear one in the Arctic.
I didn't mind the view it gave me of her gorgeous legs, though. Her costume was gathered above and below her chest and accented her generous breasts. She worked the evening shift and was usually the last one in the area.
That's why Louie and I had been arguing. For the past several years, he had visited one of the department stores and wreaked havoc overnight. The employee who closed up usually ended up getting fired. I wasn't going to let that happen to her.
But talking about it did plant a seed in my mind. What if I visited her? No one would have to know. I wouldn't do any mischief, and I'd be able see her up close that way.
That night while I tried to fall asleep I wondered why I'd noticed her in the first place. I'd been on call during The Push for years and I'd never been drawn to humans before -- they were just images on the monitors.
Sure, I was a little lonely since Grace left. I'd been with her for a few months and I was hurt when she left for Ireland, but I'd known it wouldn't last forever. She couldn't stand the long winters. She was party girl anyway. She'd left last January saying she didn't want to miss another Saint Paddy's Day.
So it'd been a while since I'd had any companionship. But a human? I'd heard rumors about elf/human relationships, but I didn't know anyone who'd had one. This woman did something to me.
* * *
We have a code of conduct at the Pole just like any workplace. The details might be a little different ("Elves do not swear") but the idea's the same. The next morning I broke it twice.
First I messed with the cameras. I altered some of the programming code so that the camera at Macy's wasn't positioned correctly, which messed up the data gathering. Then I reported the incident and fixed it. I broke the code of conduct again when I convinced my boss that I needed to go to Macy's to ensure nothing was out of whack at the site.
The next day, I grabbed an afternoon shuttle to New York. There's transport running daily to the warehouses during the Push. You didn't really think all those presents get transported on a single sleigh from the North Pole in one night, did you? We're good, but nobody's that good.
At any other time of year, it's practically impossible to be dressed as an elf and walk into a department store without attracting a lot of attention. But around Christmas, most people don't bat an eye. People see what they want to see, and they want to see some employee on break in their costume -- my short, dark hair is spiky, so I look young, and I'd worn my greens.
Around 3:30, I casually walked into Santa's Village. I instantly caught sight of her, and she was incredible. Her beautiful chestnut hair was wavy and shoulder length and she looked just like a pin-up girl. The black and white monitors hadn't done her justice. She had beautiful brown eyes, high cheekbones, peaches and cream complexion, small nose, succulent lips, and a smile that could light up the Rockefeller Plaza Christmas tree.
I wandered around the fake snow-covered village, watching her, pretending to be looking at toys. At one point, not surprisingly, I heard, "He's too tall for an elf." I ignored the comment. I know I look androgynous, so nothing in that sentence surprised me. I also realized wearing my greens was a mistake. What if someone did mistake me for an employee and asked me to find a toy for them?
Then it hit me, and my stomach sank. The Pole could see me on the cameras. I'd better make it look like I was truly checking the cameras, so I walked closer. I was closer to her that way too. I didn't even know if she was a lesbian until we made eye contact. We both recognized a kindred spirit. She smiled.
"Are you working? That's not a costume I recognize."
"Not here. I work for another Santa. Just coming to check out..." My voice faded out. I'd been so wrapped up in thinking about this woman that I hadn't even thought to create a cover story.
"The competition?"
"Yeah."
Yeah, that's it.
Feeling suddenly awkward, I stuck my hand out quickly. "My name's Tina."
"Hi Tina. Nice to meet you. I'm Maggie. I'd love to talk but..."
"Yeah, I know. Duty calls," I said. "I should be going."
"Well, have a good rest of your day," she said.
"Thanks. You too."
I felt disappointed, which is when I realized I might have had unrealistic expectations. What was I hoping -- that we'd throw each other down right there in Santa's Village? I walked around the wrapped toy boxes and huge plastic candy canes, making a point to look directly at the cameras from several angles. A few minutes later, I decided it might be time to head back to the Pole.
I'd convinced myself that seeing her might help me get over my desire. Who was I kidding? Standing in front of the candy machine is the wrong time to try to convince myself I don't want M&Ms. I headed home, but took the shuttle back the next day. I couldn't stay away. I was back at Macy's about an hour before closing time.
"Oh hey, you again."