For 29Pieces: a gift from Aini NuFire who came up with the plot ^_^

This story is inspired by an episode of The Librarians. I really enjoyed researching all the different versions of Santa for this. Also, there is no folklore canon that states Krampus is Santa's brother but I thought that was a fun twist for this one.

Good Old St. Nick

A Good Omens Story

Since the Apocalypse didn't happen, Aziraphale and Crowley have been spending their time helping people out. However, when they get a ransom note for Santa Claus himself a seemingly straightforward job turns troublesome, when complications arise. And with it already being Christmas Eve, they really need to get St. Nick back where he belongs.

Aziraphale dropped the perfect amount of marshmallows into his cocoa and inhaled the warm, chocolate aroma as he happily carried his mug to his favorite chair and picked up the book he had been reading: A Christmas Carol. His copy was signed, of course; he'd spent several Christmases with Charles Dickens and never missed the man so dearly as when it was this time of year. It seemed the perfect season to read his books.

He glanced over to the side where he had set up his own Christmas tree in the traditional Victorian style. He sighed happily. This was, in his opinion, the perfect way to spend Christmas Eve.

The bell on the front door rang and Aziraphale sighed heavily, not bothering to put his book down. "We're closed!" he called. "Didn't you read the sign?"

"Not really," said a familiar voice and Crowley strode into the back, hands stuffed into his pockets, and a red scarf wrapped up over his face. He reluctantly reached up to tug it down, shivering. "Hate the cold."

"Then why don't you have some hot chocolate, dear?" Aziraphale smiled.

"Yeah, that would be nice," Crowley replied.

Aziraphale got up to make a second cup of cocoa, and returned to see Crowley staring at the Christmas tree.

"You know they make lights that are electric now, angel," Crowley said, eyeing the candles warily. "Completely safe."

"Oh, don't worry about those, dear, I've miracled them to never go out and never light anything on fire."

Crowley didn't look entirely convinced but he sat down on the couch and accepted the mug of cocoa from the angel.

"Oh, I got these from your mailbox," Crowley told him and pulled a stack of letters and festively colored envelopes out of his coat pocket. "Looks like mostly Christmas cards."

"Oh, how lovely," the angel gushed as he took the stack and began to go through them while they drank their cocoa.

Most of them were from people he knew around town, or people he and Crowley had helped within the last few months, but one caught his eye. He frowned as he pulled it from the stack, noticing it was stained with smudges of what looked like coal.

"The post really needs to up their game," Crowley commented, wrinkling his nose as he watched Aziraphale open the letter.

"This wasn't sent through the post," Aziraphale said slowly, noticing that it only had his name on it. And not A.Z. Fell but his real name, which meant this had probably not been sent by a human.

Crowley seemed to notice his hesitation and leaned forward. "What is it?"

Aziraphale opened the letter before Crowley could protest and pulled out a Christmas card with a generic holiday scene on it. It looked unassuming enough, but the contents certainly weren't.

Aziraphale's eyes blew wide and he let out a small squeak.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley asked, half standing. "What is it?"

Aziraphale read the note again to make sure he had gotten it right, then finally looked up to meet the demon's concerned eyes.

"It's…it's a ransom note. For…Santa Claus."

He locked up the shop before they strode down the street to where Crowley had parked the Bentley, hurrying along through the crowds of people doing last minute shopping before Christmas tomorrow.

"But Santa Claus? St. Nick?" Crowley was saying. "Why on earth would anyone want to kidnap him?"

"You don't think it's the demons?" Aziraphale asked. "I mean, I know it's not the angels. They're all about the good will he spreads every year. But if he weren't able to do that, then it would put everyone into a bubble of ill will, which can lead to all kinds of things."

Crowley shrugged. "Yeah, that does seem like the kind of thing they would be into Down There, but how come no one ever tried that before? Typically demons stay away from old St. Nick. He's not exactly an ally. And have you seen him when he's mad? And they say angels have righteous fury…"

"Either way, we know we're going to be walking into something that could be potentially dangerous," Aziraphale said. "We need to be prepared."

They got into the Bentley and drove to the meeting spot. It was in the back of a theater that was closed for the holiday. No one was there when Aziraphale and Crowley got to the door and they looked at each other briefly before they went inside.

It was dark, no real indication that anyone was even in there.

"Hello?" Aziraphale called. "It's Aziraphale."

They had made it into the theater by then and the stage lights suddenly flipped on, blinding them briefly. Crowley hissed.

It was a second before they both looked up and saw the figure standing there.

He was a tall man—or man-shaped creature—dressed in a black fur coat. Or, well, it might not have been black originally, but it was now. In fact all of him was covered in what looked like soot from head to toe.

And then there was, of course, the defining feature, the curled horns coming from his temples.

"Krampus!" Crowley said like a curse.

"That's' right," the horrible figure grumbled as his eyes speared Aziraphale. "I thought I told you to come alone."

Aziraphale squared his shoulders. "Crowley and I work together now."

"So I'd heard," Krampus said. "It doesn't matter anyway. Two will work faster than one."

"What do you want?" Aziraphale asked. "And why would you kidnap your own brother?"

"He's not my brother!" Krampus snarled. "He decided that a long time ago."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Of course, family drama. Traditional holiday pastime."

Krampus glowered at him. "I'll make this quick because we don't have a lot of time. I am planning on taking over for Nickolas tonight—good will will not help the humans anymore. What they truly need is to be punished."

"Well, I wouldn't say that…" Aziraphale began but Krampus turned to him with a snarl.

"However, Nickolas hid the source of his power before I took him and I cannot find it. It is hidden from me. But it will not be hidden from an angel. You will find it for me and bring it to me before midnight, or my brother will suffer the consequences."

"And how do we know you even have him here?" Crowley demanded.

"You will take my word for it," Krampus said firmly. "It is that or nothing."

"That's not how hostage situations work!" Aziraphale informed him, starting to get very annoyed with this whole thing. "We need proof of life."

"Well, you can't see him until you get the talisman so you can go!" Krampus growled, stamping his foot rather like a spoiled child. Crowley and Aziraphale shared a look.

"Erm, any idea where this thing might be?" Crowley asked.

"He couldn't have hid it far, he didn't have time. It will be somewhere in London."

"Great," Crowley said sarcastically. "It could still take us a week to search everywhere in London."

"You have seven hours," Krampus reminded them, plucking a pocket watch from his coat. "Best not be late."

Aziraphale opened his mouth, but Crowley grabbed his shoulder and steered him away. "Yeah, all right, we'll be here."

"What are you doing? We have no proof that Mr. Claus is even here?" Aziraphale said.

"You mean you can't feel that?" Crowley demanded. "That overwhelming sense of good will?"

"Er…well, not with Krampus there, but now I can feel a little something, I suppose…"

"Come on," Crowley tugged him around to the back of the theater and to another door that led into a props room.

It was dark so Aziraphale snapped his fingers and light appeared around him.

In the middle of the room a plump, white-bearded man sat slumped in a chair, looking unconscious.

"Oh, my!" Aziraphale gasped and rushed forward. "Mr. Claus!"

The man's eyes blinked open and he looked startled. Aziraphale took the gag from his mouth.

"Don't worry, I'm Aziraphale and this is Crowley. We're here to help."

"Ah, yes, I know you," St. Nick said, eyes wide. "The angel and the demon who stopped the apocalypse from happening."

"Yeah, we're famous," Crowley grunted. "Look, let's get out of here before your brother finds us here. Come on."

He and Aziraphale cut St. Nick's bonds and as they fell loose, Aziraphale frowned as something fell to the ground along with them. He bent to pick it up, seeing what looked to be a nosegay of holly and mistletoe.

"That's curious," he murmured.

"Angel, come on!" Crowley hissed, supporting St. Nick and already heading toward the exit.

Aziraphale hurried after them, just in time for the door to the prop room to burst open.

"Hey!" Krampus barreled through, pulling a switch from across his back and brandishing it at them. A dark aura swirled around the branch ominously.

"Come on!"

Aziraphale sped up but before he could reach the door he felt a whoosh of air right before the switch fell across his back, tearing through all his layers of clothing.

He cried out and staggered, but Crowley was there to catch him, hauling him the rest of the way out the door and slamming it shut before snapping his fingers to make sure it stayed that way. Krampus slammed into it and they heard his angry pounding.

"Are you okay?" Crowley demanded, turning Aziraphale around.

The angel reached over his shoulder tentatively, wincing as the movement hurt. "I—I believe so. It's just a scratch."

Crowley pressed his lips together as if he wasn't entirely sure of that, but they didn't really have time to argue.

"We need to go!" Aziraphale reminded him and they hurried off with the rescued Santa Claus toward where Crowley had parked the Bentley.

"Okay, so where is this thing we need to find?" Crowley demanded, glancing into the backseat where St. Nick sat looking out the window.

"Hm?" he asked, seeming lost in thought.

"The thing Krampus wants!"

"Oh, my talisman?" St. Nick asked.

"Yes!" Crowley growled.

"I don't remember."

Crowley slammed on the brakes and Aziraphale caught himself against the dashboard with a gasp, pain ripping across his back.

"You don't remember?" Crowley demanded.

The plump man shook his head. "It all happened so fast and I…don't seem to be myself."

"Well, where were you when Krampus caught you?" Crowley asked.

"By the Tube somewhere, I think. A train station?"

Crowley groaned. "Great, that could be anywhere."

During this conversation Aziraphale's back started to hurt more and more until he realized that the switch hadn't just cut his back, but cut into his wings as well. He gripped the dashboard harder trying to breathe slowly to ease the pain but it didn't seem to be working.

"Okay well, think harder about it…Angel? Aziraphale, what's wrong?"

"I—I don't know, it hurts quite badly," Aziraphale said as Crowley grabbed his shoulder and maneuvered him so he could look at his back again.

"You're bleeding," Crowley exclaimed.

"I think my wings have been injured too, I don't understand why it hurts so much…"

Crowley cursed suddenly and Aziraphale whipped around with a wince to see what he was looking at.

The back of the car was empty. St. Nick was gone.

"I can't believe we lost him!" Crowley growled as they drove aimlessly around London, trying to look for a plump, white-bearded man in a red coat. That wasn't exactly easy since there were plenty of humans dressed up in emulation of said man, but none were the real one. The only thing Crowley had going for him was the fact that he could at least sense the real St. Nick's good will, except that he really couldn't get a read on that at the moment.

And more worrying was the angel slumped in the passenger seat, teeth gritted against the pain in his back. Crowley had no idea what had happened. He didn't think Krampus should have been able to hurt an angel.

"Are you sensing anything?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale shook his head. "No. But…"

A commotion seemed to be happening ahead of them. Crowley pulled over and they both got out to see what was going on.

What they saw was a man with a long, ragged beard, dressed in tattered furs, carrying a long switch in his hand—not like the one Krampus carried, but whippier. He was currently lashing the switch against the window of a townhouse as if trying to receive admittance.

Crowley and Aziraphale stopped in their tracks.

"Er…" was all Crowley said. "I mean…"

Aziraphale looked baffled. "Why, I do believe that is Belznickle from German tradition but…he's giving off the same aura as Mr. Claus, at least fundamentally…"

"Well, he is though, isn't he?" Crowley asked as the ratty man with the switch turned toward a passing child and snarled at it, before reaching into his pocket and handing it candy as its mother hurried it away. "I mean, one iteration of him and about a hundred pounds lighter."

"Yes, but…" Aziraphale frowned, then his eyes widened. "Oh, dear." He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to Crowley like a small bundle of sticks and leaves tied together with red string. "I found this when we rescued Mr. Claus. It's mistletoe and holly."

Crowley frowned. "Isn't that sort of bad for hedge gods like old St. Nick?"

"Yes, it's poison!" Aziraphale said. "And without his true talisman….Crowley, Belznickle is Santa Claus, and Father Christmas, and Ded Moroz and all the others. What if he is unable to hold any one form without the power that he needs for a particular one?"

"So you're saying our Jolly St. Nick turned into Belznickle because he lost his talisman or whatever?" Crowley demanded.

"Yes, I believe so. I mean it's the only explanation I have," Aziraphale said with a shrug, which made him wince again.

Crowley sent a worried look at the angel before turning back to where Belznickle was becoming impatient and moving down the street. "Well, come on then, we need to get him out of here before the police are called."

They hurried forward, pushing through the crowd. Some of the gathered people seemed to be under the impression this was a sort of street performance because they had their phones out, taking pictures. Crowley sent a quick idea to them that they had somewhere else to be.

"Mr. Claus, er, Belznickle, sir!" Aziraphale called.

The ratty figure turned around with a grunt. He glowered at the pair, his eyes narrowing on Crowley.

"You…" he growled. "You have been very naughty, you demon!"

"Oi!" Crowley cried, skipping to the side as Belznickle raised his switch. "I'm helping you! Or trying to, anyway."

"Remember, your brother, Krampus tried to kidnap you to steal your power," Aziraphale told him. "We're trying to help you find your talisman!"

Belznickle stopped his advance on Crowley, and he frowned as if trying to remember. All of a sudden, his eyes widened and the switch fell to the ground. A mist seemed to wash over him and he was suddenly plump Santa Claus again, dressed in his red coat.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon," he said, dusting himself off. "I lost track of who and where I was for a second."

"It's no matter," Aziraphale assured him. "We just need to get you to safety." He glanced over at Crowley. "Perhaps it's best we take him to the bookshop?"

"But we have no idea where his talisman is," Crowley protested, glancing at his watch and seeing they already had an hour gone. "Krampus might be halfway there already for all we know."

"Krampus, I can sense him, he's close by," Santa Claus said, looking around. "Crowley is right, we should go. Perhaps if I retrace the steps I took once I got into the city, I will be able to remember where I stashed my talisman."

"How did you get into the city?" Aziraphale asked.

"Oh, at the train station," said Santa Claus.

Crowley perked up. "You said before that you had hid it near the Tube, right?"

Santa's eyes brightened. "Why yes, I did! Perhaps it's there!"

"Well, it's a better place than any to start, come on."

They hurried to the Bentley and set off again. Crowley drove as fast as he could, glancing in the rearview mirror on occasion to make sure their charge was still there, and also casting glances at the angel whos lips were pressed tightly together from the pain in his back. Crowley worried over that. He wondered exactly what Krampus had done to his friend.

They made the train station in good time, even though parking was a nightmare. Crowley simply left the Bentley on the side of the road and got out of the car.

"Alright then, let's go…"

He cursed.

He and Aziraphale both got out of the car, and waited for Santa Claus to join them.

Except it wasn't Santa Claus who joined them, it was a young, angelic looking boy with a pair of wings springing out of the back of his robe.

"Wot are you then?" Crowley demanded wearily.

"I think he's the Christkindl now," Aziraphale said.

The boy smiled at them. "This is perfect! I am usually accompanied by angels and sometimes even demons! You can help me deliver the gifts to the children!"

"Er, we really need to find your talisman first," Crowley said.

"Oh, that!" Christkindl said and flapped his little wings, lifting off the ground. "We can find that later! It's more important for us to bring the gifts to the children and we don't have much time until midnight!"

"Yes, exactly," Aziraphale said as he reached up and snagged the boy's wrist, pulling him back to earth. "Please don't fly away now!"

"Look, you've been poisoned with mistletoe," Crowley explained. "You won't hold this form for long, and you might turn into something a lot less savory next, so can you please come with us and help us search for your talisman?"

"Very well," Christkindl said with a small pout, and Crowley and Aziraphale took his proffered hands firmly as he walked between them through the crowded station, giving everyone they passed a cherubic smile that gained many 'aws' from the people. Some of the children they passed suddenly found themselves clutching small gifts, and they would gasp in delight.

"Stop that, you're gaining too much attention!" Crowley hissed to the boy.

"But that's what I do," Christkindl protested. "You're not very into the Christmas spirit, are you, Crowley?"

"I'm a little preoccupied at the moment!" Crowley replied. It wasn't really fair, he actually liked Christmas. Just not when he had to haul a Santa Claus with multiple personality disorder around London trying to find something they didn't even know the location of or what they were really looking for.

Aziraphale halted. "Oh dear, I think we're about to get even more preoccupied."

Crowley glanced up and cursed as he saw the three figures pushing through the masses on their way toward them.

"I guess demons were behind this after all," Crowley grunted. "They probably brokered a deal with Krampus, maybe even hired him—or the other way around."

"They were there when I was taken," Christkindl said, shifting himself behind Crowley and Aziraphale. "Please don't let them get me again! They'll ruin Christmas!"

Crowley glanced around quickly. "Look, see that bench over by the wall? Go over there and stay put! I'll handle them."

"I think you mean we," Aziraphale said quickly.

Crowley shook his head. "Someone has to keep an eye on the kid, er, Santa. And you're hurt. I've got this."

Aziraphale looked like he was going to protest again, but Crowley left him with Christkindl before he could say anything and caught the eye of the demons.

"Hey, Hastur," he called and stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry.

"Crowley!" Hastur growled as he and the demons took chase.

Crowley shoved through the people and raced toward part of the terminal where a train had just come in a few minutes ago and the people had mostly dispersed. He reached into his pocket and pulled one a collapsing baton, which he whipped out at the ready as Hastur and the two other demons showed up.

"So, Hastur," Crowley said. "Hell has decided to ruin Christmas now?"

Hastur grinned. "It's about more than that, Crowley. The more bad will we spread, the more humans we'll get on our side. Got to be ready for anything now. You never know when the next apocalypse might come along."

"Well, it certainly isn't going to start because you cancel Christmas," Crowley snorted.

"I don't really care what you think, Crowley," Hastur said and motioned to the two other demons. They raced forward and took Crowley from both sides.

Crowley slammed the baton into one's ribs, and the demon staggered back with a grunt. Crowley had inscribed some runes on it to give it an extra punch. The second demon tried to tackle him, but he swung the baton around and caught him in the jaw, putting that demon down for the count.

Unfortunately, demon number one lunged at him from behind and tackled him to the ground. Crowley hit his chin on the concrete, his teeth snapping together painfully as he scrambled for the baton he had lost in the fall.

Hastur strode forward and stomped down on his searching hand, making Crowley cringe.

"Tsk tsk," Hastur tutted mockingly. "You're not going anywhere, Crowley. You're going to be our new ransom item. The angel surely won't have any qualms about giving up St. Nick's talisman for you."

Crowley glowered up at Hastur just as he saw a shadow behind him a second before something clobbered the demon over the head, sending him staggering to his knees with a howl of shock.

"The angel," Aziraphale said, standing in his place, panting and brandishing Crowley's baton. "Isn't going to let you take Crowley at all."

Hastur snarled and lunged at him but Crowley was on his feet again and kicked the demon in the backside before Aziraphale hit him across the jaw.

Hastur fell and Aziraphale manifested his light and power until Crowley had to look away even with his glasses.

"Go before I smite all of you!" Aziraphale commanded in a slightly exaggerated voice.

But the demons bought it. They grabbed Hastur under the arms and dragged him away, tails between their legs.

Crowley turned to Aziraphale just as the angel reined in his powers and staggered. Crowley surged forward to catch hold of him.

"Aziraphale?" he asked worriedly. His hand found a wet patch on the back of the angel's coat and he pulled his hand away, seeing blood.

"You're bleeding again," he said worriedly.

"Mm, yes, probably. I fear it's getting worse," Aziraphale panted.

Crowley took his baton then slung one of Aziraphale's arms over his shoulder. "Come on, we need to find Santa and get out of here. There might be more demons, or even Krampus himself close by."

Aziraphale nodded and leaned against Crowley as they made their way back to where they'd left Christkindl.

He wasn't there.

"Oh, bugger," Aziraphale moaned. "I should never have left him alone!"

"Well, he couldn't have gotten too far," Crowley said, though didn't feel too confident in that assumption. Especially if he had changed form again to something less assuming than a winged child.

"We have to find him," Aziraphale said worriedly. "Especially if there are demons after him too."

"Hold on," Crowley said, sniffing the air. He could sense something. "You feel that? Good will!"

Aziraphale had a hand steadying himself against the wall, but he straightened. "Yes…yes I can feel it too, it's right over there!"

They hurried through the people toward where there was a wall of lockers. Crowley zeroed in on one of them and snapped his fingers to open the lock.

Inside rested a red hat and a large velvet bag that were practically radiating good will.

"Got them!" Crowley said, relieved as he reached inside to take the items out.

"Wonderful!" Aziraphale breathed in relief. "Now we just need to find our Santa Claus."

"Which is easier said than done," Crowley muttered, looking about at the crowds of people. He could be anywhere.

The hours dragged on and darkness fell as they drove around London looking for any sign of Santa or any of his iterations. All this time, Aziraphale's back burned more and more furiously. His wings ached too and even though he had mended his clothing so there were no holes in it, the blood was still seeping through. He honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up if he didn't start to heal.

"I can't feel anything with that stuff in the boot," Crowley growled. "It's stronger than any signal St. Nick is putting off." He glanced over to the passenger seat when he got no reply. "Angel?"

"Mm, I'm fine," Aziraphale tried to assure him.

"No, you're not," Crowley said worriedly. "Look, I'll drop you at the bookshop. You really shouldn't be out here…"

"Wait!" Aziraphale suddenly sat up straight, wincing, as he looked out of the window. "Stop here!"

Crowley pulled off the road and they got out onto the pavement.

"What is it?" Crowley asked, looking incredulously at the restaurant they had stopped in front of.

"He's in there, I can feel him!" Aziraphale said, striding up to the restaurant, a buffet, where from inside came shouts and laughter and even singing.

Crowley and Aziraphale stepped inside and both stopped at the sight, bemused.

All the tables in the restaurant had been put together to form a long feast table and the guests and even the staff were seated there with plates piled high, laughing, and singing Christmas carols.

And at the head of the table, plates piled high in front of him, was Santa Claus, or rather, yet another iteration of him, this one not looking too different from his original incarnation.

"I think he's Father Christmas now," Aziraphale said.

"Right," Crowley said. "Big fan of feasts and revelry and all that. Makes sense."

Father Christmas looked up and spotted them near the door. "Ah, my friends! Come and join us!"

"Er, actually, Father Christmas, we need to be going," Aziraphale said. "It's nearly ten, and you need to find your sleigh by midnight."

"But we have your talisman now," Crowley added with a thumbs up. "So, come on, let's go!"

Father Christmas let out a jolly laugh. "Oh, no, not until I've finished my feast! I haven't even had any figgy pudding yet!"

"I'll figgy his pudding," Crowley muttered. "Look, Father Christmas—"

There was a loud bang from outside and Crowley and Aziraphale both spun around to see dark figures hurrying away from the parked Bentley.

"No!" Crowley shouted and surged out the door.

Aziraphale followed him as quickly as he could and staggered to a stop on the pavement as Crowley leaned over the open boot of the car, tossing things aside willy-nilly.

"They took it!" he cried. "Those bastards took the talisman!"

Aziraphale slumped against the side of the car, feeling defeat wash over him. Crowley raced back into the restaurant but came out seconds later with a tight, pale face.

"He's gone again," he said and cursed, hands tearing his hair. "What are we going to do now?"

Aziraphale felt suddenly light headed and he slumped further down to the side of the Bentley until he was sitting on the pavement. Crowley surged forward and grabbed his shoulders.

"Aziraphale! Angel!"

But Aziraphale's eyesight started to blur and he didn't have enough strength to get to his feet.

It looked like they had failed. Christmas was cancelled and it was all their fault.

Crowley loaded Aziraphale into the Bentley and drove as quickly as he could back to the bookshop with the angel slumped in the passenger seat. His hands gripped the wheel tightly as he glanced at his friend. Aziraphale was barely conscious and he was still bleeding.

At least the bookshop didn't have any demons waiting for them nearby. Though, now that they'd gotten what they wanted, he didn't think they would bother with them again. Crowley helped his friend out of the car and pulled him into the shop, settling him down on the sofa in the back.

The tree and other decorations still shown merrily and there were still the two half-drunk cups of cocoa they had left, congealed and unappetizing now. The Christmas cheer was an odd contrast to the bleeding angel laying on the couch.

Crowley peeled Aziraphale coat and other layers off to see the wound across his back. The switch marks looked nasty in the angel's pink flesh and Aziraphale murmured in discomfort.

"Can you show me your wings?" Crowley asked him.

Aziraphale pushed himself up a bit and manifested his wings with a small whimper.

The snow-white feathers were dappled with blood near the spot where they met his back, having gotten caught with the switch. Crowley felt sick to his stomach.

"I don't understand how it could have done that."

"Because without my powers, Krampus was far too powerful for his own good. Powerful enough to wound even an angel."

Crowley spun around and Aziraphale shifted enough to see Santa Claus standing in the middle of the room, his red hat on and his velvet bag, stuffed full, slung over his shoulder.

"Krampus had turned into a powerful force for bad, so much so, that a being of pure good, like an angel, was more susceptible."

"H-how?" the demon stuttered. "You…the demons took those!"

St. Nick put the bag down on the floor with a sigh. "I must confess, I never forgot where I hid these, I just needed to create a distraction to keep my brother away." He shook his head. "Krampus means well most of the time, but he is rather misguided. And his methods are quite a bit old fashioned."

"So the ones Hastur got were fakes?" Crowley asked, starting to understand what was going on and feeling anger rise in him.

Santa nodded.

"You used us as bait?" Crowley demanded. "A distraction?" He clenched his fists at his sides before pointing angrily to Aziraphale. "My friend is badly hurt because of that!"

"It was never my intention that you two got involved, but I am grateful for the help. In fact, without you, I never would have been able to get away from Krampus and find my talisman in time. I didn't expect him to use the mistletoe. You two kept me from losing myself completely until I could go back to where I had stashed my actual talisman." He patted his hat. "So, thank you. Now I'll be able to deliver good will to the world and cancel out the little bad Krampus was already able to do." He stepped forward. "But first, some good will needs to be done here."

He stepped past Crowley to the sofa and bent to lay his hands over Aziraphale's wings. The angel shuddered, then gasped as the blood disappeared and the marks on his back turned to pink scars, barely visible.

He sat up and grabbed his sweater, tugging it on modestly. "Why, thank you!" he exclaimed, a little breathless.

Crowley sagged in relief and rested a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder gratefully.

Santa smiled at them both. "I must be going now. Keep up the good work you two! It's beings like you who keep the good will going all year round." He turned around to pick up his sack and reached into it, setting a couple presents under Aziraphale's tree with a wink before he started toward the door.

He paused before he went out the door though, and turned around with a frown on his face. "Now, if I could only remember where I parked my sleigh…"

Crowley groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Christmas dawned bright and crisp, snow flurrying in the air. Aziraphale smiled as he watched it out the window before he caught sight of Crowley coming back from the corner shop with fresh baked goodies.

"Right out of the oven," Crowley said as he came in and stomped his feet, shivering.

Aziraphale urged him over to sit in front of the old heater and they settled down with cups of tea in their hands.

"Is everything…normal out there?" he asked.

Crowley snorted. "When is it ever normal around here? But no, it's fine. Just an extra thick layer of good will. No sign of Krampus or demons."

Aziraphale sank more comfortably in his chair. "That's good. I'd rather not go out today at all, if I can help it."

"I don't really want to either," Crowley said and glanced over at the table beside Aziraphale. "Say, why don't you read me that book by your old friend Charlie with all the ghosts and stuff? I always liked that one."

Aziraphale smiled and finished the last of his pastry before he took up A Christmas Carol and began to read.

The angel and the demon settled in for a long relaxing day in the warmth of the bookshop, surrounded by the good will that had settled over the world like the thin blanket of snow over London.