"Mel, have you found it yet?" the Doctor asked, adjusting his holo-beard.
"Yes, and it looks even smaller than last year's." His red-haired companion came round the corner of the wardrobe room dressed as a scantily clad elf. "Honestly, I look like Bonnie Langford in this!"
The Doctor chuckled and removed the red suit from the TARDIS tailor. "Well, at least you didn't have to take your suit down three sizes to wear it. My previous incarnation made a much more convincing Father Christmas. I'm going to have to resort to padding."
He slipped the suit on over his plaid trousers and question-mark sweater vest and went in search of pillows.
"Santa Claus."
"Hmmm?" he called from three aisles away.
"Remember, you're Santa Claus, not Father Christmas. Americans don't know who Father Christmas is."
"Santa Christmas, Father Claus, whatever. Ah ha! These will do nicely."
A rather rotund fellow in red suit and white beard returned to the mirror where Mel was standing.
"Ho ho ho!" he chortled.
Mel laughed. "I think you'll do nicely as Santa."
Several minutes later, the TARDIS landed next to an overly decorated Christmas tree. Santa Claus poked his head out to make sure it was safe, and then slipped out the doorway. His elf, Melanie, followed him to the reception desk.
"Hello, welcome to Children's Medical Center," the nurse at the desk said as they approached.
"Hi, I'm Mel, and this is my friend," she paused, "Santa Claus. We're here for the Christmas party."
The nurse laughed. "So I gathered. I'm Donna, by the way. Let me get Margaret, she's the head nurse."
"Oh I remember her. Do you remember, Doctor? I mean, Santa?"
Santa was too busy smiling and gurning at a little girl sitting in a wheelchair to notice.
Mel smiled as she watched her friend take a small teddy bear out of his pocket and hand it to the little girl.
"You've been a good little girl, haven't you, Sarah?" he asked the child.
"Uh huh, Santa. Very good." She hugged the little bear tightly and then pulled on Santa's sleeve. He leaned closer and she whispered something to him.
"Santa loves you too," he replied.
Mel turned back to the reception desk to see a familiar face smiling at her.
"Hello, it's Melanie, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's great to see you again." They shook hands.
"So your friend couldn't make it again this year? That's such a shame. He was a great Santa Claus."
The Doctor returned to the desk, holding his hand out to the nurse.
"Hello, Margaret. It's good to see you again."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Santa looked down at his wingtips as if he were embarrassed. "Well, I've changed a bit since we last met. Let's just say I wouldn't miss this party no matter what happened to me."
Margaret shrugged. She knew there'd been a Santa Claus and elf (or sometimes elves) coming to the Christmas party for as long as she'd been at the medical center, and even many years before then. And the Santa always claimed to be the same one, no matter what he looked like. She was just happy they'd arrived. The kids were really looking forward to the party.
"It's a shame we won't be able to do this next year," Donna said.
"Why not?" asked Santa, waving at another little child who was looking out a doorway.
Margaret frowned. "That's right, you probably haven't heard the news. They're shutting down the medical center."
"What?" Mel was stunned. "What about the children?"
"They'll be put back into regular hospitals. Though I don't know what good that will do them. Most of the regular hospitals send them here because their children's wings aren't adequate for long term illnesses or are already full."
Santa spoke gravely. "I would like to know all of the details, please. And, most importantly, whom I should speak with about this issue."
Margaret nodded and escorted Santa and Mel into her office.
A couple of hours later, Santa Claus and his faithful elf, Melanie, were riding up to the 30th floor of a corporate building.
"Are you sure about this? I mean, we look a little, um, ridiculous in these outfits." Mel had gotten quite a few stares and catcalls on their way here.
"I should think Mr. Bostich would be honored to have Father Christmas as a guest at this time of the year."
"Whatever you say, Santa."
The elevator stopped and the pair headed for the secretary's desk in the center of the opulent room.
"Did you notice there aren't any decorations up?" Mel asked.
"Perhaps they were too busy."
The secretary ignored the colorful pair. Santa cleared his throat a few times, but she still continued with her work.
He gestured towards a door labeled "Martin Bostich, President" and Mel walked toward it.
"Mr. Bostich does not wish to be disturbed," the secretary said.
Santa turned and stared at the secretary. "We won't disturb him, I promise." Then he smiled and the secretary stood there, blinking.
He grabbed Mel by the hand and bustled her into the office before the secretary could recover.
"What is the meaning of this!" cried out a man sitting at an antique oak desk. This office was equally affluent as the exterior office and equally devoid of Christmas decorations.
"Hello, Martin. Remember me?"
"No. Should I?" Mr. Bostich reached for his phone, but Santa gently rested his hand on the receiver.
"Think back to your childhood. I think you'll find me there."
Bostich laughed. "Oh, I will, will I? I'll have you know, sir, that I have never believed in Santa Claus."
Santa shook his head, slowly. "Oh you did, once." He was speaking softly, but his voice carried easily in the room. "I know of three Christmases in particular where you believed. I held you in my lap and you told me your dreams and your secrets. But that was so long ago, I'm not surprised you've forgotten."
Bostich looked closer at the small man in front of him. He remembered a Santa Claus who looked nothing like the one sitting there now. And yet...
"Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm calling security unless you get out of here now."
"It always saddened me that I could never get you what you most desired. There are some things even beyond Santa's power. Sure, you got the Radio Flyer and the Knickerbocker Mickey Mouse, but those were just things. What you wanted more than anything was for your family to take an interest in you. And that was something Santa could not promise you."
Bostich slumped down in his chair. This had to be a trick. No one could know this information except...
"I am not sure of the details after those early Christmases, but I can guess. You finally recovered sufficiently to leave the medical center. I remember being pleased to find out about your recovery. But maybe your family still treated you as if you were infected. Perhaps you never did get the family attention you wanted. And that would leave you bitter. Angry. Maybe if you'd never gone to the medical center your family would still love you. Maybe..."
"Stop it! Please!" The man was crying now. "Why are you reminding me of this?"
Santa laid his hand on the man's shoulder. "The Children's Medical Center was not responsible for your family's behavior. There are too many children dependent upon it for one man to take it away from them."
There was a loud knock on the door. "This is Security, Mr. Bostich. Shall we come in?"
He sat up and wiped his face with a red handkerchief that Santa had given him. "No, everything's taken care of."
Bostich looked up at Santa. "There's a lot of paperwork to be sorted out. And the finances to keep the medical center..."
"Don't worry about finances. I know that the center will be given a substantial donation for Christmas this year. And who knows, maybe Bostich Enterprises may match the donation?"
"Heh, maybe they will." He wiped his eyes again.
"Oh, as for your Christmas wish. I have something that might interest you." Santa pulled a red envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Bostich.
"We really must be going," Santa said, motioning for Mel to get up. "Merry Christmas, Martin. I hope you do decide to keep the medical center going. Those children need someone to care enough for them to do that."
"Merry Christmas," Mel said as they left the office.
Bostich turned the envelope over in his hands. It had his name neatly written in gold. He opened it to find an information sheet on a child called Sarah Brightly. She had the same disease that had eaten away at him when he was a boy. And she was an orphan.
"That poor girl," he whispered.
Santa Claus was sitting in a chair by the Christmas tree covered in decorations made by the kids. On his lap was a young boy who was laughing at a joke Santa had just made. Mel was searching through all the presents looking for the right one.
"Have you found it yet, Mel?" Santa asked, winking at the little boy.
"Yes! Here it is." She rushed it over and handed it over.
"Merry Christmas, Tony. You be sure to be a good boy again next year."
"Thank you Santa! I promise I will." He took his gift and Santa put him back into his wheelchair. One of the nurses wheeled him over to a table where he could open the gift.
Santa and his elf continued giving gifts until they ran out and it was the children's bedtime. They all thanked him one more time before they walked or were wheeled back to their rooms.
Mel nudged Santa and he looked up to see Martin Bostich walk over, carrying young Sarah.
"Santa, I wanted to thank you for everything. And I wanted to give you something."
"Give me something? How wonderful!" Santa stood up and tweaked Sarah on the nose.
Martin reached in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a slip of paper. "It's the matching check from Bostich Enterprises you thought might be arriving."
"It's blank," Mel said, looking over Santa's shoulder.
"Well, I didn't know how much was being donated to the medical center. But I'm sure that Santa knows and will put in the appropriate figure."
Santa smiled and shook Martin's free hand. "I think he'll be able to do just that." He hurried over to the reception desk and took out another red envelope. He scribbled something on the Bostich Enterprises check and gave them both to Margaret.
"Merry Christmas, and thank you for another wonderful party," Santa said.
Margaret was too stunned to say anything. She'd never seen checks for that much money in her life. "Thank you!" she finally squeaked out. Then she reached over the desk and gave Santa a big hug and a kiss. "Thank you thank you!"
"Well, Melanie, you ready to go?"
She looked around the nearly empty room strewn with the trash bags of torn wrapping paper. "I suppose so." She shook Mr. Bostich's hand and gave Sarah a kiss on the cheek.
"On Sleepy, on Dopey, on Happy, on Sneezy!"
"Santa!" Mel cried.
"What?"
"Those are the seven dwarves, not the names of your reindeer!"
"Are you sure?" he asked, as he unlocked the TARDIS door.
"Positive," she answered as she followed him in.
But as the blue shape of the TARDIS disappeared from sight, the last few people in the room heard "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"