[Fanfic, 100% Orange Juice] Lessons in Gifts and Deliverance

Genre: Slice of Life

Length: 1602 words

B/D: Just a little bonus story that sat for a very long time without an ending. I finally finished it up. It was originally called 'Earning the Nico Nico Knee', and to be honest I'm not entirely sure why.

Despite not being old, male or possessed of a belly like a beach ball, Aru considered herself a very conservative Santa and followed all the various Santa rules, lest she be hit with some sort of Santa sanction. Even if her belly was full, she would never walk past a plate of cookies and milk that had been left out for her; she would eat just enough to show that she had been there, so there would be excitement and whimsy in the morning. If they left a carrot for the reindeer, she would see that the reindeer got it – even though she was quite partial to munching on a few carrots herself. Most importantly, she always wore red when she was on the job.

Nico was not a conservative Santa. In fact, Nico was not a Santa at all and had just been press-ganged into helping Aru deliver things, which she felt was very unfair. Even the postman, who was perhaps the closest thing to Santa that existed in civilian life, hadn’t tried that. (She had, up until quite recently, been engaged in a quiet civil war with the postal service. They kept insisting on delivering mail to her, which was very irritating when every piece of mail was a Christmas card from a long-lost auntie). As a result, she had a number of groundbreaking ideas on how the age-old profession might be made more modern, trendy and convenient for everybody involved, but mostly for her.

“I still don’t get what we have to go inside the house. That’s super creepy. What if there’s dogs? What then?” she complained, pulling out a chair and sitting down at Aru’s kitchen table. “There’s this really cool new invention, you know. It’s called a mail box, and it’s designed to let people safely receive parcels.”

“That’s not the point, Nico,” Aru replied, patiently. “Leaving the presents under the tree is part of the magic of Christmas, and that’s what it’s really about. We’re not delivering parcels. We’re putting a smile on the face of every little girl and boy, and giving them an experience that goes mundane, everyday life.”

“Doesn’t it spoil the magic when little Timmy goes downstairs and finds out Santa gave him a colouring book instead of the yacht he asked for?”

Aru sighed. She needed many things right now, but a cup of coffee held pride of place in the top spot. She flicked on the kettle. “There’s such a thing as a yacht economy, okay? If we gave everybody yachts, yachts would be worth nothing and we’d put shipyards around the world out of business, and then Timmy’s parents would have to pay for a massive garage to put Timmy’s yacht in. Besides, do you want to carry a yacht halfway across the world? You can if you like, but I don’t. So rule one of your list to Santa is no yachts.”

To Nico this sounded suspiciously like communism, but then she was a member of the mercantile class via her parents. “Alright, but why do we have to wear red? Why can’t we wear camouflage or something?”

Aru pretended to think about this question as she weighed her coffee beans and put them into the grinder. She had thought about it previously – many times, in fact. She had always come to the conclusion that it just wasn’t proper somehow. But she had also made up several other justifications in case that one wasn’t enough. “Firstly, camouflage doesn’t work the way you think it does. You can’t just wear black and then you blend in. Secondly, if you get caught, what do you want to look like – Santa, or a burglar?”

“Then what’s with this weird chimney business? Why can’t we just go in through the windows?”

“Because windows have locks.”

“Chimneys have fire! You can get around a lock with a brick, but–”

“You get around fire by throwing snow down the chimney, and it doesn’t cause hundreds in property damage per house you visit.”

Nico folded her arms and began to pout. She had deep, heavy bags under her eyes, and her shoulders ached in a way that she hadn’t thought she’d feel for another thirty years. Being Santa was hard. Why wouldn’t Aru let her make it easy?

“Oh, by the way. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

She shook her head. “I hate coffee. It’s too bitter. I don’t know how you adults drink it.” The word ‘adults’ came out like a slur.

“To be honest, I kind’ve hate it too. Good coffee is such a pain to make, you know?” Aru said, studiously not looking in Nico’s direction. “To start with, you need all these weird and wonderful devices – french presses, scales, gooseneck kettles, that kind of thing. You need to weigh out the beans, and then you have to grind them just so – too coarse or too fine and the flavour is all wrong. The water has to be just the right temperature, and then you have to pour it over the coffee beans in just the right way in several stages so all the gasses and everything behave the way they need to. Even if you’re brewing it right, you still need high quality beans to make a good drink, which have to be picked and shipped all the way around the world so you can buy them.”

Nico frowned. She hadn’t really been expecting to get a lecture on being an amateur barista. “Seems like a lot of work for such a tiny thing. Why don’t you get the instant stuff?”

“Because if I’m going to have coffee, I want it to be the best it can possibly be – even if it’s a lot harder.”

The words sat in the air meaningfully for a few moments, and Nico had already begun mulling them over before she realised she’d been tricked.

“Hey, wait a minute! This isn’t about coffee. You’re trying to to teach me a lesson without me realising it!”

Aru drew herself up to her full height, and for a moment looked more impressive than Nico had ever seen her. “That’s right. And it’s not just you. I’m going to help inspire all the children of the world to be the best they can be, by giving them the Christmas they deserve – no matter how hard or impractical it is. That’s Santa’s Job!”

Nico pressed a hand to her forehead. “Uuuu… When I first set out to fight you that one time, I had no idea you’d be this hardcore. I should have just been a shopkeeper instead of getting looped into being your assistant.”

“I’m also a hardcore shopkeeper!” Aru said with a blinding smile, and flashed her a thumbs-up. “Here. I know you said you didn’t want one, but I made a cup of coffee for you anyway. Drink it. It’s a learning experience.”

She looked down at the hot, dark brew before her. It seemed as though she was being made to drink some potion, a special tincture that would sign over her soul to Santahood for ever and ever. But on the other hand, it smelled amazing. She picked it up, looked at her senior meaningfully, and took a sip.

“Ugh… This… How do I say it? It tastes really bad,” she said, screwing up her nose.

“I know, right?” Aru said peacefully, although the corners of her eyes looked suspiciously watery. Maybe it was just from being in the cold and the wind for so long. Maybe. “Making good coffee is so hard that even though I practice all the time, I’m still really bad at it… But having a cup after the delivery run is like a tradition for me. Otherwise I’m too tired to fall asleep, you know?”

Nico took another sip, and let the flavour hit the back of her throat. It didn’t taste any better the second time. “For a moment, you seemed really cool and reliable.”

“Thanks… I think…”

“Well, I should probably get back before my parents realise I’m missing,” she said, and with a grimace knocked back the entire remainder of her coffee at once. “I guess I’ll see you the same time next year.”

Aru shook her head. “I’ll visit you before that, Nico.”

Nico gave her a wan smile. “To check that I’m being a good kid?”

“No. I know you’ll be a good kid. I’ll just visit so we can have fun together instead of only ever meeting up to do work. I also have a present I need to drop by with – from Aru, not Santa.”

Nico stopped for a moment. The cogs turned in her brain, chewing up facts and figures until she had come to a semi-logical conclusion. “It’s a coffee pot, isn’t it?”

“Whaaaaat?!” Aru shouted, slamming her palms on the table. “How did you know? Did you peek? Peeking is bad!”

“I just got the feeling that maybe Santa wants somebody else to make her a cup of awful coffee from time to time.”

She yawned, and put on her coat. It wasn’t red like Aru’s, but now that she thought of it, she wouldn’t look bad in red. Maybe. When she stepped out into the street, the sun was beginning to rise over a bright and happy Christmas Day. She put her hands in her pockets and whistled as she walked.

Later that day, Aru would drop by with a very well-wrapped but not very mysterious present for her – and they would both discover that, no matter how bad Aru’s coffee was, Nico’s was even worse.

A/N: Nico exists now, hurray! Of course, considering the existence of 'Is the Order a Rabbit', it only makes sense that Aru is a coffee drinker.

In honour of Total Biscuit, please consider donating to Cancer Research UK to help cancer research.