"Unplanned Absence"

Author's Note: I don't own The Santa Clause, Bernard, Curtis, or anyone else. Allison is mine, I suppose, but she isn't in this story much. Bernard wasn't in 'The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause'! Well, no, that's not exactly true. He was in the novel based on the movie, and I read somewhere that he was meant to be in the movie, but his part was written out due to scheduling conflicts with the actor, David Krumholtz. I've read the book, and I like it much better than the movie (for obvious reasons), but I didn't like the fact that Jack Frost was never redeemed in the book. If Jack's heart was thawed and he kept his wintry powers, he could have turned out to be a powerful ally. So, this is based on the movie. I really feel like Bernard got a raw deal, and is my take on why he was nowhere to be seen.

"Chapter 1: Temper, Temper"

"Silver bells and burnt gingerbread! Allison, are you physically unable to carry something without breaking it?!" bellowed the Head Elf in an echoing voice that halted all activity in the area.

Bernard wasn't sure if it was the pounding headache that made him lose his temper, or if it was the burn blister on the roof of his mouth from his eighth cup of cocoa. It might have been the dollhouse avalanche on floor three, or it could have been the nagging ache in his lumbar region. Whatever it was that put him in such a foul humor, he knew as soon as these words left his mouth that he had crossed the line.

The short female elf who knelt at his feet, frantically picking up shards of porcelain, grew very red in the face. Her lower lip began to tremble, and she hardly seemed to realize that she'd cut her finger on one of the pieces.

Oh no, thought Bernard. "Allison, I didn't mean-"

This was as far as he got before she dropped the pieces and fled, sobbing, from the room.

Curtis adjusted his spectacles as he glared at Bernard. "Don't you think that was a little harsh? One broken figurine won't ruin Christmas."

Ah, the Keeper of the Handbook has spoken. "Just get a broom and sweep this up, Curtis."

Bernard left the room at a jog, limping a bit from an old, long-healed injury and painfully conscious of the many reproachful frowns directed at his back as he followed Allison. Every now and then a drop of blood marked her path, and he wondered just how badly she had hurt herself. She was new, if he remembered correctly. As mistakes go, breaking a figurine was a minor one indeed. It was certainly nothing when compared to the toppling of an entire pallet of dollhouses!

Finally he found her sitting on the steps outside. She sniffled as she tried unsuccessfully to pick a shard of porcelain from the pad of her finger. Her nails were short, probably because she bit them, and she couldn't quite seem to grasp the splinter. "Are you all right?"

Allison startled guiltily and her watery blue eyes flicked briefly up to his face before she looked away again and nodded. "Y-yeah. I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean-"

He folded his hands behind his back and leaned forward a bit, craning his neck for a better look. "How badly did you cut yourself?"

"I...not bad, I don't think. I didn't even notice it until someone told me I was bleeding all over the floor. Another mess. I don't know why I'm even here..." She sniffled again and wiped her eyes with the back of her uninjured hand.

Bernard sat down beside her, stifling a groan as his knees popped, and did his best to ignore his growing headache. "You're here because you were hand-picked by Santa. Not everyone here was picked by the same Santa, of course; there have been many over the past two millennia, give or take a few centuries. But you were chosen by one of our best. Don't tell me you doubt his judgment!" he gave a little half-smile, trying to cheer her. He truly did feel terrible about this. The Elves knew him to be impatient and extremely firm, but he never enjoyed making people cry, particularly the new workers who haven't really found their places yet.

"I don't know," she mumbled, still refusing to look at him.

He sighed. "Look...you're not gonna hear me say this very often. This is probably the only time you'll hear me say it. But I was wrong. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. Given you a talking-to, maybe, but you didn't deserve to be humiliated like that. I'm sorry."

Allison finally nodded, but said nothing. She went back to picking at her finger and hissed in pain.

"No, don't do that. Come on, I'll walk you to the Elfirmary. You'll never get that out without tweezers, and Dr. Hismus will probably want to bandage it."

They stood, and Bernard noticed how very small she was compared to him. The top of her head barely reached his waist. If it wasn't for the pointed ears and the silver specks on her cheeks, Allison resembled a human child of six, maybe seven years old. Even though she was probably several hundred years old by now, she was still barely an adult by Elf standards. Still eager to prove herself, and easily broken.

Poor kid...I've got to do something about these mood swings.

"Ah, Bernard! And..." Dr. Hismus squinted as he tried to remember Allison's name. "Don't tell me, I remember. It's...Amanda, right?"

"Allison," she smiled, looking down at her hands. "I...well..."

Bernard had overseen many a shy Elf in his time, and seeing her falter he chimed in. "She had a little accident on the pottery floor."

"So I see," the red-haired Elf beckoned with a kind smile. "Well, Allison, I haven't lost a patient yet! Let's see that hand."

It occurred to Bernard to ask the good doctor for a bottle of headache medication, but he resisted the temptation. Allison might innocently mention it back at the workshop, and that wouldn't do at all. He never liked to show weakness around the other Elves, and he knew Curtis had his eye on the Head Elf position. The moment Bernard became unfit for duty, whether it was by injury or illness, he knew that Curtis would be quick to step in and take over. As it is, Curtis already saw him lose his cool today.

It wasn't that Bernard disliked Curtis. Aside from the looming threat of Curtis taking his place somewhere down the line, and the way he constantly undermined him in front of Santa, they usually got along well enough. Although, maybe Curtis did get a gleeful twinkle in his eye whenever Bernard wasn't right about something, and Bernard could only imagine what he must be telling Santa at this very moment.

"Ouch!"

Allison's high-pitched squeal wrenched Bernard out of his thoughts. What was Dr. Hismus doing?

"My goodness, what a fuss," chuckled Dr. Hismus as he held up his tweezers, showing them a tiny white shard of porcelain smeared with red.

Bernard looked away again and covered his mouth. He felt sick.

"There, all done. You can return to work now, if you feel up to it." Dr. Hismus applied a band-aid with businesslike efficiency and offered Allison a sucker. "Sugar-free, at the Tooth Fairy's insistence."

"Thanks!" She selected a red one, but tucked it into her vest pocket instead of unwrapping it.

"You're very welcome. Say, Bernard, are you okay? You look a bit pale..."

"I'm fine," Bernard said curtly, opening the door and nodding to Allison. "After you."

Allison waved to Dr. Hismus before turning to leave, and as she passed Bernard she looked up at him. Her forehead creased a little as if in concern, but she didn't quite dare to ask him if he was sure he felt okay. Especially when he pressed his lips into a straight line and gave his head a slight shake as if warning her not to.

"Bernard!" Dr. Hismus called, but the Head Elf shut the door before he could get any further. "Stubborn..."