Elfin Magic
by jackwabbit

Author’s Note: For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge – December 17 (Elf) and December 18 (Christmas Present)…

“Oh, come on, Uncle Jack!”

“No way!”

“But no one else can do it, and if we don’t have anybody, we’ll have to cancel!”

“No!”

“But it’s a really big fundraiser for us!”

“No, no, no! I’m not doing it!”

“But you’ll be great at it!”

“I hardly think so.”

“You will!”

“You’re just saying that to get me to do it.”

“True. But Uncle Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“We really do need you.”

Soft brown eyes pleaded more than the words ever could.

A sigh was heard.

“Fine.”

I can’t believe I got roped into doing this.

Me.

Jack O’Neill.

Shanghaied by a fifteen year old.

It’s ridiculous.

I can’t believe they couldn’t find someone else to do this.

I know it’s for a good cause, but still…

I feel even more ridiculous than I look, if that’s possible, which I doubt.

A glance in the mirror brings a grimace.

After all, the red coat, fuzzy pants, huge belt, and floppy hat aren’t exactly my style. And I won’t even mention the beard. Or the fake fat belly. The only thing that feels even vaguely familiar is the big black boots, and even those aren’t mine. Mine would’ve been fine. These, well, not so much. They’re ridiculous, like the rest of me, and I am not happy about this. Not one little bit.

I’ve got to be the grumpiest Girl Scout Troop ‘Photos With Santa Fundraiser’ Santa Claus ever.

But I agreed to this. Somehow, I said I’d do it. So here I am. The kids are already lining up outside, so I guess I’d better screw on a smile and do my part. Those responsible for this are going to pay later, though. Of that you can be sure.

I step out from behind my little stage door to the yells of small children. Their reaction is pretty much what I expected, and I take my seat with a fake grin plastered on my face. I wave mechanically and try to think about fishing. Or ‘The Simpsons’. Or anything other than what I’m actually doing on this perfectly good Saturday night.

The first several kids are predictable, and they really do their best to bring any holiday spirit left in me down to a new low.

A boy wants the latest video game, even though he’s only four.

A girl wants a new cell phone. She’s six, for cryin’ out loud!

Another asks for a Barbie DVD.

Two begin to cry the moment they see me.

One kid actually pees his pants.

And so it goes.

Child after child they come. Each one somehow more obnoxious than the one before. It’s going to be a long night.

I play my part as best I can despite my inner mood, though, and finally it pays off.

As a scarecrow of a boy gingerly sits on my lap, I issue the cheeriest voice I can manage and ask the child what he wants for Christmas. He looks about eight years old and he’s nervous, probably because he thinks he might be too old to be sitting on Santa’s lap. He looks once over his shoulder at his mother and the line of kids behind him before answering in a soft rushed voice.

“I want hockey stuff.”

I find myself intrigued. This is the first request for sports equipment I’ve gotten, and in today’s world, I’m a little surprised to get it at all.

“What did you say?”

The boy’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s on to me. But he smiles anyway and repeats his wish.

“Hockey stuff. You know, pads and stuff. For a forward. I really wanna play hockey this year with a real team. I’ve got skates, and play every winter on the pond by my house, but I can’t play on a real team unless I have stuff. And… well…”

I don’t need any interpretation of the stuttering end of the boy’s speech. I know the drill. I’ve been there. Most teams require kids to have their own equipment to play, and it isn’t cheap. I take in the boy’s clothes and the appearance of his mother behind him. They’re not obviously poverty stricken, but it’s plain that things are tight by the patches on the boy’s jeans and the second hand look of his mom’s coat. Something inside of this supposedly big, bad Colonel suddenly turns into a puddle of goo, and it’s all I can do to not cry. I smile my best Santa smile at the boy and boom out a very confident assurance.

“Then you shall have it, my boy!”

The boy tries his best to smile like he believes me, but I know he has his doubts. As he jumps down and leaves the stage, I reach one hand out to Cassie, who’s about to get the next child in line for their turn with Santa. She turns to me and smiles.

“Yeah?”

I nod toward the boy and his mother, who are leaving the area. Most of these kids are somehow involved in Cassie’s troop, and their parents only bring them here to help out the girls. I’m curious if she knows this kid.

“You know him?”

Cassie nods. “Sure. That’s Cody Timmons. He’s friends with Angela’s little brother.”

I smile. “You know where he lives?”

Cass shakes her head. “No, but Angela does. I can find out. Why?”

My smile broadens. “Just got an idea. I’ll tell you later.”

Cassie shrugs and leaves to usher the next child to me. “Ok. Whatever.”

The best elf on the planet sits the next child on my lap within seconds, and as I look up at Cassandra, who’s come so far since I first met her, I grin.

She grins back, and suddenly my hearty laughter and Christmas cheer isn’t so artificial anymore. A wicked idea begins to brew in the back of my mind, and it elevates my mood better than any drug.

Perhaps my enhanced mood makes me notice, or perhaps it’s really true, but more children seem to start asking for things I consider more appropriate gifts for kids, like dolls and trucks and wagons and bikes and footballs for the rest of the evening.

By the time I spy a certain sandy-haired archeologist lurking behind the dwindling crowd, I’m in a decent mood, despite my initial lack of zeal for playing Santa.

Cassie’s Girl Scout troop should come away with a good bit of money from their annual Christmas fundraiser, and one little kid is going to get a heck of a Christmas gift, so I’m feeling pretty good about myself.

Still, Daniel’s presence concerns me.

I pretend not to notice him, and he pretends to not be amused by my fate, but he sticks around until the last child is gone and Cassie turns to me with open arms.

I pull my adopted niece into a hug. She mumbles into my chest and I smile at her words.

“Thanks, Uncle Jack.”

I shrug. “Least I could do, kid.”

Cassie laughs out loud. “Whatever. I know it was a lot to ask. So, thanks.”

“Not a problem.”

Cassie steps away from me and smiles a smile that strikes fear in my heart. She’s up to something.

“What?”

She grins more.

“I just have one more favor to ask.”

I feel trepidation build. “What?”

Cassie’s grin suddenly splits her face in two. “A few more kids want to see Santa, that’s all.”

I close my eyes as Sam, Teal’c, and Janet step into view and join Daniel as he makes his way up to my little throne. So that’s why Daniel is here-everyone came to see Colonel Santa Claus.

Teal’c has a full Jaffa eyebrow going on and a smirk dances across his face. Janet looks half drunk but is holding her laughter in pretty well. Carter’s giggling as if her life depends on it. And Daniel, well, Daniel has tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

And frankly, I can’t blame anyone for their amusement. This has to be pretty funny to them.

However, I can blame them for being here. I start with Daniel.

“Daniel, I thought you were going to be out of town this weekend?”

Daniel shrugs, but his voice won’t come to him through his still raucous laughter, so I turn to Sam.

“Carter, didn’t you tell me you were going to spend all weekend working on your bike?”

Sam’s giggles turn into a full fledged laugh and she just shakes her head. I round on Cassie, the reason for all this insanity.

“Cassie, I picked you up tonight because you said your mom was visiting a sick friend, right?”

Cassie shrugs. “I thought she was. I must have made a mistake, Uncle Jack. Sorry.”

Cassandra’s tone leaves no doubt that she isn’t sorry at all. Finally, I turn to the only person present who might take pity on me.

“Teal’c, buddy… what about you? Didn’t you have tickets to a play?”

Teal’c inclines his head and looks at me sincerely. “I did, O’Neill. However, the tickets were for the matinee performance, and the play has already concluded. I came here afterwards to partake in a human holiday tradition that I have yet to accomplish. I believe it involves whispering one’s desired Christmas presents to a man in a red suit.”

At Teal’c’s words, the entire group comes unglued. I decide I have to take a stand.

“Ok! That’s it! I’m drawing a line here! No one, repeat no one, is sitting on my lap! I’m done with that for today! Not going to happen! Period. The end!”

My rant doesn’t seem to impress my friends much. They merely stare at me and stifle giggles, then bring out the secret weapon again. Cassie sidles up to me and looks at me with those big brown eyes, and I feel my resolve start to waver. This kid is good.

“But Uncle Jack…”

I shake my head to clear it. “No. Not this time. Not going to happen.”

“Come on, it’d be funny.”

“No. But I have a better idea. Some of the other girls still around?”

Cassie shakes her head. “No, they’ve all gone.”

I motion to the camera that had taken the pictures of the children all night. “That thing have a timer on it?”

Cassie nods, and her grin returns. “Sure does.”

“Go set it. You guys get up here. Come on. You wanted Santa, you got Santa.”

I’m not likely to forget the next thirty minutes anytime soon, and if I ever do, the photographs won’t let me do so for long.

We take about twenty of them.

Some are serious, some not so much, but they’re all fun.

When we finally get enough of playing with the camera, and every shot we can think of is taken, the gang lets me get out of my get up and into my regular clothes, complete with my own boots. Life is good.

We break up shortly afterwards and everyone heads home. It’s been a bizarre night, but a good one. I fall asleep on my couch as soon as I lay down to watch TV when I get home, and I don’t wake until the sun is high in the sky on Sunday.

When I wake, I go straight to my attic.

I don’t have to look to find what I need.

It’s right where I left it.

I’m drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I can’t bring myself to touch it.

I sit up there for a long time before I make up my mind.

I don’t know how long it takes.

But finally, with more than a few tears in my eyes, I head back downstairs and pick up the phone.

I make my choice.

Cassie answers the phone on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Cassie?”

“Oh, hey, Uncle Jack.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

“I need an elf.”

“What?” Cassie’s confusion is evident in her voice.

“You made me play Santa, I need you to be an elf again.”

“What?” She still isn’t getting it.

“Remember that boy from last night? Cody something?”

“Yeah. Why?”

I hesitate for just a second before plunging into my plan headfirst. “Well, you said you can find out where he lives, right?”

Cassie’s voice is still confused. “Yeah. Why?”

A sigh escapes me. “Because I want to do something for him. I have a little Christmas present for him. But I need your help to get it ready and to deliver it for me, okay?”

I can hear Cassie’s smile through the phone. “Ok! I can do that! Let me call Angela! I’ll call you right back!”

And then she’s gone. Oh, the exuberance of teenage girls.

My phone rings fifteen minutes later. I pick it up knowing full well who it is.

“Hello?”

“Uncle Jack?”

“Hey, Cass. What’s up?”

“Got the address for you. What’s next?”

“You think your mom can bring you by later? I need help with some stuff here.”

“Um… hold on.”

The next thing I hear is a muffled, but still very loud, Cassie voice.

“MOM! MOM! Can you take me to Uncle Jack’s later today? He needs help with something! MOM? MOM!”

I can’t help but feel a little sorry for Janet. Full time parenting of Cassandra has to have its challenges.

The next voice on the line belongs to none other than my personal physician. Her voice is sweet and sarcastic at the same time.

“Colonel? Is now ok?”

I laugh. “It’s fine.”

Janet’s next words are clipped and short. “Thank you.”

Fraiser hangs up the phone after that, and I know I’m saving her and Cassie from a world of annoyance by taking Cass for the afternoon. And I do need the help, so it’s all good.

Although I’ve already made up my mind, what I’m about to do is going to be hard for me, and I need a little moral support, even if it’s just from a fifteen year old.

Cassie arrives thirty minutes later.

By that time, I’ve eaten a bit of late breakfast, showered, and dressed.

Cassie bounds inside full of more energy than should be legal and hugs me.

“So, what’re we gonna do, Uncle Jack?”

I extricate myself from Cassie’s hug and step away from her.

“There’s a blue Rubbermaid bin up in my attic. It’s right next to a bunch of green ones and a red one. I need you to bring it down here to the living room. It’s got a bunch of hockey stuff in it. So does the red one, but leave that one alone, ok?”

Cassie nods, and seems to finally understand what I’m up to, so I continue.

“Now, everything in there is new or nearly new, and it’s clean. I think it will fit Cody just fine. I need you to wrap it up for me. There’s paper in the hall closet and tape and scissors on my desk. Can you do that?”

Cassie nods again, this time with gusto, and runs off to the attic.

She’s back inside of two minutes, with everything she needs for gift wrapping. I watch her from the kitchen as she prepares an area of my living room floor for the task at hand. She looks very nearly grown up, but still has a child-like wonder about her, and I’m in awe of the young woman before me. It seems like only yesterday that Cassie came into my life with all the grace of an atomic bomb. Literally. I still sometimes have night terrors involving little girls and long dark hallways in underground bunkers. It’s so easy to get lost in the past.

Her voice soon breaks into my thoughts, however, and I come back to the present.

“You gonna help, Uncle Jack?”

I’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask that. I want to do what I’m about to do, but it’s still hard. It still hurts deep inside my bones. It still feels a little like betrayal. And truth be told, that’s why I asked Cassandra to do this part. I’m not sure I can.

“Nah, you go ahead. My wrapping skills leave a bit to be desired. I’ll watch from here.”

She shrugs, accepting my response. “Ok.”

Soon, Cassie is so absorbed in her task that she doesn’t notice me or anything else. I sit at my dining room table and watch her through the window into the living room.

Each item she wraps feels like a little pinprick of conflicting emotion in my soul. I’m proud and glad to be helping someone else, and I feel joy at the fact that I can give a child happiness, especially at Christmas, but it’s bittersweet. Each item means more to me than what it is.

The shorts he only wore once.

The helmet that took forever to find in the perfect shade of blue that he’d wanted.

The face mask he’d tried to not wear.

The shoulder pads/torso protector that had been just a little too small on him.

The shin and elbow pads that had barely taken a fall.

The gloves that matched the helmet.

Charlie had played forward.

He’d been a scarecrow of a boy. And like all boys, he’d grown like a weed. His hockey equipment, like his clothes, was worn for a short time then discarded for the next size up. That next size up was in the red bin upstairs-it had been his last set, and I wasn’t ready to part with it yet. But this stuff was from the previous season, and it wasn’t doing anyone any good where it was. I almost pitched it years ago, but now I’m glad I didn’t.

Cody Timmons could use it, and somehow I knew Charlie would want him to.

And so I watch Cassie prepare Cody’s gifts wrapped in a virtual cloak of bittersweet melancholy, knowing this is what I want but hurting just a little all the same.

She finishes in about thirty minutes and looks up at me. She holds my eyes for a moment, and despite her young age, she looks right through me. She’s no stranger to loss, and I suddenly remember that I’m not the only person in the house intimately acquainted with grief.

I stand without realizing it and before I know it, I’m sitting on the floor next to Cassie. I open my arms, and she leans into them without hesitation.

I hold her as if my life depends on it. Somehow, we both know what is happening here is more than a mere gift wrapping task or a simple hug. We are two people hurting for a moment, and we need each other.

I don’t know how long we sat like that.

I only know that when it’s over, we both smile a little nervously and somehow feel better than we did before.

“How about lunch?” I ask, and the tension around Cassie and I diffuses like a drop of dye in the ocean.

Cassie smiles. “Sounds great.”

Lunch consists of Chinese food ordered from the place down the road, and occurs without incident. Cassie and I talk about sports, school, and movies until Janet shows up to collect her.

That night, Fraiser does me the favor of calling Angela’s mom and relaying a message to Cody’s mother about the gift that Santa is bringing her son.

It’s December twenty-second, so I have some time to figure out how I’m going to deliver my goods, and I fall asleep very late as ideas for that very task tumble through my brain like leaves in a windstorm.

When Christmas Day comes, I have a plan. I enlist Cassie to help again and we load all of Cody’s packages into my truck. Cody’s an only child, so we don’t have to worry about any other gifts for the family, but I slip an envelope with his mom’s name on it under one of the ribbons on one of his gifts as we pile them into the truck.

Cash is always a safe bet, you know, especially for a single mom.

We set off across town early in the morning, long before anyone else we know is up.

We arrive at Cody’s house just as children start to rouse their parents and begin begging to be allowed to open their gifts.

I park at the end of the street and nod to Cassie.

We’d agreed that the best way to do this was to deliver the gifts in secret. Even though Cody’s mom knew they were coming, she didn’t know who was bringing them or how they would get there, and we didn’t want any awkward moments.

So Cassie and I pile the gifts into a red wagon that I’d thrown in the bed of the truck and haul them to Cody’s porch. Just before we reach the house, Cassie lays a hand on my arm to stop me. She looks me dead in the eyes with the same expression she’d had at my house when she wrapped the gifts. After a moment, she whispers up at me.

“You sure?”

I hesitate, then nod with more bravado than I feel. “Yeah. It’s time, Cass. It’s time.”

She nods up at me and smiles a sweet, sad smile. I know she understands. We all have to move on from loss eventually, no matter how hard it is for us.

We start to walk again, and within minutes we’re piling the gifts on Cody’s porch as quietly as possible and then walking casually back to the truck.

When we reach it, I climb into the driver’s seat and Cassie looks at me expectantly.

I nod. “Go on, then. Do it.”

Cassie grins. This is probably the only time in her life that she will ever be given permission to prank someone. She takes off down the street. I start the truck.

Thirty seconds later, Cassie throws herself into the cab of the truck and tries to catch her breath. She’s panting like a sled dog and completely red in the face, but she’s done her job well.

Her knock was plenty loud enough to bring Cody and his mother to their door, and her sprint afterwards was fast enough that they hadn’t seen her.

Cassie and I watch from the truck at the end of the street as two near strangers are overcome with joy at the gifts we’d left on their porch. At some point (I’m not sure when), Cassie reaches over and takes my hand. She squeezes it once as the last of our gifts disappears inside its new home, and I realize it’s time to head back to our own homes.

I put the truck in gear and slowly pull away from the scene with a huge smile on my face.

Somehow, I know I’ll never forget the day I finally shared my son with another, and I don’t think Cassandra Fraiser will, either.

Epilogue

It’s Christmas again.

God, what a year it’s been. We almost lost Carter. Twice. We found Atlantis. I got frozen in ice for a few months, then thawed and somehow promoted to General. But all of that pales in importance to the fact that we lost Doc Fraiser, and it still feels like a ice pick is constantly sitting just under my ribs about that. Every now and then something yanks on it a bit and her loss hammers into me with the gentleness of a staff weapon.

Today is one of those days.

There’s a small package on my coffee table, and it’s the source of my pain today.

It’s from Cassandra.

She’s still away at school, but she’ll be home soon.

As much at Janet’s loss is still killing me, I know it has to be doubly hard for Cassie. This is the second time in her short life that she’s lost her mother, and it’s just not fair. I feel hard anger boiling in my heart as I think about the injustices heaped upon this girl.

It’s not right, and frankly it pisses me off. The sight of Cassie’s neat script on the package is all it takes to make me see red about her fate. I know she’s strong, but how much can a woman be expected to take?

I don’t really want to open this obvious gift in my current mood, but my hands need something to do to release my ire at this situation, and they tear into the paper surrounding the small, flat package with a vengeance.

When I see what’s inside, somehow my anger flees and an open curiosity takes its place.

It’s a magazine. Just a magazine, enclosed in a small flat box.

I turn the periodical over in my hands to read the title.

Colorado Junior Hockey Bulletin

What in the world? Cassie likes sports, but she’s more into soccer and softball and track. She doesn’t read hockey mags as a general rule, or at least I don’t think she does. She’s way too busy for that. Heck, even I can’t keep up with the pros and college anymore, let alone juniors.

There’s a small sticky note on the front cover, and Cassie’s elegant writing guides me to a surprising answer.

I open the magazine to page twenty-nine with a thousand questions. What I find there answers them all. It’s a full page ad congratulating the nine local pee-wee players that earned scholarships to play on the regional elite junior boys team, complete with a picture of all the kids. Right in the middle of the ad is a tall scarecrow of a boy who looks vaguely familiar. I scan the names under the photograph, and I feel the hot prick of tears come to my eyes. I try to suppress them, but I simply can’t. A few escape and I’m not ashamed at all.

For right there, in black and white, a name beams out at me like a beacon on a foggy night.

Cody Timmons.

I glance across the room to my mantle and see another photo there, this one framed and displayed with pride. My tears don’t stop, but a smile spreads across my face and I realize that no matter what life throws at her, Cassandra Fraiser will be ok. My confidence in my girl is restored. She was right. Sometimes all it takes is a little nudge, and Cassie’s gift (which will soon join the other photos on the mantle), combined with the photo already there, gives me just the push I need today.

And as I stare through misty eyes at myself dressed as Santa Claus surrounded by the best friends I’ve ever had, I count myself lucky beyond measure, despite my losses.

Janet’s loss is still killing me, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from losing Charlie, but maybe both of them were only supposed to walk with me for a short time on my path, to help guide me to now. And now feels like right where I’m supposed to be, thanks to Cassie.

A realization slams into me, and my smile takes on a thoughtful aspect.

I never used to believe that guy who said it was better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all, but today, I think he just might’ve been right after all.

The End