Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with in any official capacity, The Santa Clause or any related. I am making no profit off of this fan fiction, and if you sue me you'd win all of $4. So leave off, please. Lol.

Santa will leave coal in the stockings of those who leave flames! :) Constructive criticism welcome. That said, I hope you enjoy, and please let me know if you do!

Chapter I

Charlie blinked. "Faery magic?"

The woman raised an arched black eyebrow. "Do you know anything, child? What kind of magic did you think it was?"

He bristled at being called a child, but tried to ignore it. After all, his twenty-three years would seem like nothing to her; even though she looked younger than him, he knew that Queen Mab was about as old as dirt.

"Well. I thought it was . . . elf magic."

She smirked. "And what do you think elves are?"

"They're faeries?"

"Of course. They are not Sidhe, but they are our kind."

"Sidhe," Bernard scoffed quietly.

Not quietly enough.

"Do you have a problem, Bernard?"

"No, your majesty," answered the elf, in a manner that suggested there was, indeed, a problem.

Charlie looked between them wonderingly. Bernard, looking as though he'd aged about seven years since Charlie had met him, instead of seventeen, was scowling and glaring nowhere in particular. The faery queen was gazing at Bernard; the expression on her face was something different, something . . . Before Charlie had time to define it, the look was gone, replaced by the slightly condescending expression she'd worn before.

"Look, what does this have to do with Charlie?" asked Scott, Charlie's dad. Scott was currently Santa Claus; however, in his former (less magical) life, he'd been a businessman, and he still thought like a businessman, especially when he was puzzling something – or someone – out.

"Charlie is suitable."

"Suitable for what?" Charlie asked, more confused than ever.

The queen's lips pursed slightly, and her eyes averted for a moment.

"Charlie, do you want to age like that?" she asked nodding toward Scott.

"Hey!" said Scott. "I'm Santa, I'm supposed to look like this!"

Charlie grinned in spite of himself. In truth, Scott really looked the way he did because of the Faery magic that made him Santa Claus. Before that, he'd been a handsome, clean-shaven, fit man. Still, that was seventeen years ago, and his face had become lined and slightly weathered. Scott, who before had been proud of his appearance and a bit of a flirt, had taken the weight, white hair, and miracle-gro beard with some amount of grace. The wrinkles, though, were a touchy subject.

"Regardless," Mab said, her eyes twinkling. "Charlie, you do not have to age like a mortal. And if you intend to follow in your father's footsteps to become Santa Claus, you could live for hundreds of years."

He narrowed his eyes at her. This sounded a little too good to be true.

"What are you talking about?"

The Sidhe faery subtly took a deep breath.

"I have a daughter."

"What?" Bernard asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes. She is the Princess of the Unseelie Court."

"Imagine that," the head elf muttered, his dark look returning.

"Bernard." When he looked up at her, the black-haired queen quietly said, "Please."

He grimaced slightly, but nodded.

"Wait, I still don't get what this has to do with me."

"My daughter needs a husband."

"A . . . A what?"

"You heard me, boy. Of course, she will see many potential husbands. She will choose among them based upon their personalities, their chemistry with her, and, of course, on how the sex is."

"The . . . What?" he asked, his voice cracking like it had when he was hitting puberty.

"The sex, Charlie. How do mortals expect to find a relationship that lasts without trying the sex first?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Let me get this straight," Scott said. "You want my son to sleep with your daughter so she can decide if she wants to marry him? And how many other men will she be sleeping with?"

Her cupid's bow lips formed a half-smile, but she didn't sound amused.

"A Sidhe will typically be with five to ten suitors at a time."

"Ten?" Charlie asked, mouth agape.

"However. My daughter is . . . half human. She has chosen you, Charlie, to be her first lover. You are her only choice. If things do not work out between the two of you, I am to choose her next suitors."

"Her first lover?" Carol Claus spoke up for the first time. "Is she a-"

"Virgin. That said, Charlie, if you refuse, you are more stupid than I have given you credit for. Sidhe virginity is . . . magical," the queen said, smirking.

Charlie had turned a deep shade of red.

"But . . . How does she know me?"

"She goes to school with you."