Chapter Text
If it hadn't been clear to Scott before, it likely kicked in that if Quintin wished you good luck while temporarily going into hiding, you should follow suit. Bernard knew it, thought he rarely had the ability to listen to it, and in this case it didn’t actually affect him negatively. Instead, he was standing right behind Judy's chair with his arms folded and a stern look toward their current Santa Claus, acting as her back-up and giving her his support. Judy was sitting forward in the chair with her chin resting on her folded hands. Scott was just looking completely confused about the entire thing which was fair when one considered that the elves were, in fact, ganging up on him. "You said you wanted to talk, Judy?"
There was still a trust being built between Scott and the elves. They went through this with each Santa and this time was no different other than the fact that he did seem to want to trust them and the elves did want to try to trust him. Unfortunately, Bernard's discovery had put a slight hitch in that plan. "Bernard informed me of his conversation with Charlie."
"From when he babysat him?" Scott asked, trying to catch up. He glanced at Bernard who nodded once, but poor Scott still looked baffled as to what she could be referring to. Not getting the help he needed, he looked back toward Judy, who supplied him with just two words:
"The turkey."
"Now, Judy..."
"Please don't 'now, Judy' me, Santa," she scolded. Bernard was always amazed that the two younger elves he'd grown up with were so different in their demeanors, as well as the youthful appearances that all elves had. Quintin had chosen to be impish, matching his early teen appearance. If Bernard mixed the teen and grumpy old man persona, then Quintin matched a child-like impishness with an irreverent uncle. Judy, on the other hand, played into a more diplomatic role normally but could have the mannerisms of a beleaguered middle-aged mother when she wanted to. "Bernard and I are concerned for Charlie's sake. We make certain to handle the cooking while you’re up here, but that doesn't account for when you're watching Charlie. And safety is our first priority, followed by edible food for you both."
"He said that the flames were rather high, Santa," Bernard agreed. It was probably for Scott's own good to learn, but it was crucial for Charlie that he did. Scott leaned back and looked at the two of them with a curious expression on his face.
"Is Charlie your responsibility?" He asked with no hostility and only a bit of embarrassment from the cooking part of the conversation. It was also a question that Bernard knew Judy didn't have an answer to because they just didn't know for sure due to Charlie being the first non-stowaway human child at the North Pole. They weren't exactly sure they wanted to say that to Scott, however, because he would likely worry about it and they were doing that enough for him.
"I think so," Bernard said with conviction. If it wasn’t actually true, Bernard wanted it to be. "His safety and happiness affects yours and part of our job is making sure you're in a good place to deliver the presents, So I'd say it's an official part of the job."
"But even if it wasn't," Judy said carefully as she still wasn't sure it was to begin with. "We care about Charlie as a person. We like him."
Scott softened. "You're both really worried about him."
"And you," Bernard said. "We don't need to lose a Santa because he burned the house down making toast."
"I can make toast!" Scott protested.
"And Judy and I are going to make sure you can safely. Charlie shouldn't be trying to convince me to make up all of the meals before I leave and I can't be there and here at the same time," Bernard said with more than a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"It's not that bad," Scott tried again.
"I'll judge that," Judy said. "Come on, we'll start with the toast you said you know how to make."
Scott looked over at Bernard, hoping for a reprieve, but Bernard wasn't about to mess around when it came to Charlie's safety and the current Santa reluctantly followed behind them.
***
"I have to ask," Bernard said, looking at the complete mess that Judy was frantically trying to fix. "How aren't you dead?"
"I don't think it's that bad," Scott hedged. Bernard just stared at him and even Judy glanced over.
"It exploded," she informed him. "There's no saving this, Bernard. Is there a way we can just make sure Santa has plenty of money for pizza deliveries?"
"None of us get paid, Judy," he reminded her before turning to Scott. "How is it every elf here can cook and you're setting food on fire?"
"That one wasn't on fire," Scott argued.
"That's not the point!"
"Alright! Alright," Judy said, trying to calm them both down. "We're just going to need a different plan that we can all agree on and that is fair to Charlie which means not just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Bernard."
"It's safer," Bernard said, rubbing his temples.
"What about reheating food?" Scott asked, somewhat accepting that they weren't buying his 'it's not that bad' response.
"You'd have to carry it on the back of a reindeer unless Bernard teleports you every time," Judy said. "Which is possible, but..."
"Harder for longer trips," Scott said. "Okay, we'll mark that as a plan B."
Bernard really wanted to know when 'use Bernard as a taxi' had become the go-to plan B, but that wasn't as important right now.
"What are you three doing?"
They all turned to see Curtis and Quintin just staring at the mess with complete confusion on their faces. Curtis had been the one to ask with Quintin adding in after: "Is this why Abby looks ready to cry?"
"Oh poor Abby," Judy said, looking at Bernard and motioned for her to go check on the younger elf. He sighed.
"I was watching Charlie," Bernard said. "And he was hungry, so I made him some waffles and syrup…"
"Was it the waffles you make with the strawberry syrup?" Curtis asked. Bernard glared at him considering that wasn't the point. "They're really good waffles."
"I’m with Curtis," Quintin said. "Somehow, better than Judy’s. Judy even says so."
"Stop exaggerating," Bernard scolded. "The point is, he was worried I didn't actually know how to cook. Stop laughing."
Both of the younger elves weren't even trying to hide it. Scott looked at them. "You two knew he could cook?"
"Bernard cooked for us all of the time," Quintin said. "Judy just enjoys it more."
"I used to try to stump him when I was little," Curtis agreed. "Never worked."
"Well, Charlie didn't know because someone kept burning his food. Including a turkey," he said, glaring at Scott. Both of the other two stopped laughing and looked at Santa. "Apparently, the 'flames were real high'."
"I really wish he'd stop telling that story," Scott muttered.
"You set his holiday turkey on fire, Santa!" Bernard said, folding his arms. He didn't miss the sound of the other two sucking air through their teeth as they winced, nor Curtis' quiet 'yikes'. At least now, the other two knew how serious the situation was. "So, Judy and I were trying to teach him to cook so that Charlie isn't trying to convince me to make up meals for him before I go. This is the result of that."
Both of the younger two elves looked at each other and then at the mess. They seemed to be having a conversation without words, not unusual for members of Research and Development, before looking at Bernard.
"You're trying too hard," Quintin said and Bernard blinked. "Judy and you are great at this, but Santa is... uh..."
"Not," Curtis said. "He is a cooking disaster!"
"What Curtis said. The point is, what does Charlie like that's easy to make and doesn't involve holidays?" Quintin asked. Both Bernard and Scott shared a look that agreed that the other two were on to something. "Sandwiches aren't enough for a dinner, but I bet we can teach him to make some simple sauces for dino nuggets that you can heat up. Grilled cheese and a simple soup from a can, maybe? Salads are easy. It doesn't have to be a lot, but Charlie is nearly eight. He'll appreciate that."
"Drinks too," Curtis agreed. "Make up shakes or smoothies. Kids love those."
Both sides of the cooking debate relaxed dramatically. "I can teach him to do that."
"Hey, I just want Charlie to be happy. And not beg Bernard," Scott said. Both of the younger elves scoffed.
"Give that up right now," Quintin suggested. "He's had Bernard's waffles. That's all you're going to hear about."
"Until Judy gets to cook for him," Curtis agreed. "Then you're only going to hear about both."
"But," Bernard said, giving both a look that they weren't helping. "You're also going to hear him tell his mom about how you made him a special sauce just for him. Or how he got to have a shake with dinner."
Scott nodded approvingly. "Alright, when Judy gets back, let's try that. Bernard?"
"Yes, Santa?"
"You're making waffles for everyone. Charlie didn't save me any," he informed him. Bernard sighed.
"It's not that great, Santa."
"He's a liar," Quintin pushed.
"Seriously, some of the best stuff I've ever eaten," Curtis agreed.
"What are we talking about?" Judy asked as she headed back in. Quintin looked at her.
"Bernard's waffles and strawberry syrup," he said. Her eyes lit up.
"You're making us waffles?" She asked. Bernard sighed.
"I guess I'm making waffles," he grumbled. "Curtis and Quintin had a good idea for Santa. We're going to teach him little things like how to make sauces and basic soups that he can make dinners more special with."
Judy relaxed. "I think that might be for the best."
"So when do we get waffles?" Quintin asked.
"Quintin."
"Tomorrow."
"Santa..."
"I'll make sure we have everything!"
"Judy."
"I'm already working on a schedule!"
"Curtis... Fine. I'll just take tomorrow off."
He just sighed as his most trusted elves and literal boss cheered like excited eight-year-old children.