How to Correct the Holiday Blues

The whole fiasco starts like this: Gerard makes his other deliveries just fine. He hates working apartment buildings, even though the windows are easy enough to slip in and out of. So he slips through the first window and leaves gifts under the tree. Moving on he exits through the front door, locking it after him. He leaves gifts in all the apartments but one. He gets into it easily and moves to the tree.

He's running a little late, and Brendon Urie is the last believer on his list. He can tell that the sun is going to start rising soon (he can feel it in the pit of his stomach) and tries to speed up to make it out in time. What he doesn't plan on his knocking against one of the gifts. Theres a definitive thump and Gerard hears movement in the bedroom. He dives for the window.

His pants catch on the window, and he can feel the protruding nail sticking him in the leg. He's kind of thankful that being immortal means never having to get tetnus shots. He works on wriggling out of the window, manages to knock it with an elbow and it falls and shuts on him. So now he's caught on a nail, halfway out a window, his magic sack is next to the tree and the sun is high enough in the sky that he's pretty sure Blitzen and the others have already headed home.

Movement across the alley catches his eye and he looks over to see a woman changing in her bedroom. Mouth dry he watches as more and more pale skin is exposed. Finally after what feels like forever, she walks naked into the adjoining bathroom. He's probably going to get arrested for breaking and entering, and now the wood of the window seal is digging into another part of his anantomy. And his nose is cold.

Some times Gerard really hates being Santa.

He stretches back as far as he can and slips the button open. Kicking his pants off, he sucks in his stomach and wriggles out of the window, to the fire escape. The window slams behind him and he runs down the metal stairs muttering "shit" over and over again. He looks behind himself to see that he has ripped a hole in his boxers.

He stops at the first payphone he sees and calls Frank to come get him. By this time it's already six thirty three in the morning, Gerard's legs are cold, and he's pretty sure that it's colder in the booth than it is outside. He stays shivering in the booth anyway.
Twenty minutes later there's no sign of Frank, but there is a cop. He pulls over and gives Gerard a mean look. This Christmas is really starting to blow, Gerard thinks as he gets arrested for indecent exposure.

Gerard can read a whole person's life through their eyes, from the time they're born to when they stopped believeing in Santa, to their first felony. This is maybe why Gerard is hunched in one corner of his cell as far away from his cellmate as he can possibly get. Gerard REALLY doesn't want to get his ass kicked on Christmas Day. That would blow worse than the time Frank kicked him in the balls while they were in the pit at a Misfits concert.

The guard comes through and opens his cell door and Gerard jumps through, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the large scary man still incarcerated. Frank is waiting for him in the lobby with an amused look on his face, arms crossed over his chest and a sack of clothes at his feet.

"Can't leave you alone for a minute," he says with a laugh, adding, "Wait until I tell Gabe."

"Fuck you," Gerard says with feeling, because once Gabe knows so will every one else. That's what happens when you share personal business with Pete Wentz. The whole fucking world winds up knowing before your mother does.

They officially meet Brendon at twelve forty two pm. There is a knock on the front door and Frank jumps up to answer it while Gerard takes another slug off his beer. Brendon is standing on the front stoop holding Gerard's bag and pants.

"Um--hi, is Santa here?" Brendon asks. Frank laughs so hard Brendon flinches as if he's been hit.

"Don't pick on the true believers, Pumpkin Head," Gerard says from the living room doorway, holding his beer.

"Holy shit," Brendon says, "There's a real Santa."

"Of course there is," Gerard looks at him oddly, "You're a believer. I know you're a believer, or I wouldn't come to you."

"I didn't believe in a real man," Brendon says, "Just, you know. The idea of goodwill and taking care of others."

"That's cute kid," Frank says and means it.

The thing with Brendon is he's kind of really awesome. So it's no surprise that Frank and Gerard spend so much time with him. He smiles alot and is hyper and has good taste in music. Gerard and Frank could really do worse in the friend area. The fact that they don't have to hide who they really are just makes it better.
Gerard might spend alot of time looking out Brendon's windows.

The first time Gerard talks to Lyn-Z he times it just right. He leaves Brendon's apartment building at the same time she leaves hers. Pulling a cigarette out of his pocket he tucks it between his lips and speeds up.

"Hey!" Gerard calls, two steps behind her.

He touches her shoulder and she swings around faster than he can blink and punches him in the face. She's staring at him, and he can feel the first few drops of blood trickling down his face. He sneezes and it rains all over the sidewalk. He puts his hands up to catch it and looks at her balefully. She looks back at him fiercely, fist pulled back incase she needs to hit again.

His cigarette does not survive.

"I just wanted a light," Gerard gasps, and thinks about how, when he was mortal he was totally smoother than this. Well, no, he wasn't, but he can pretend. The elven ladies totally love him, at least.
She looks embarassed, her cheeks heating when she realizes that he poses no actual threat to her. Gerard is sort of stupidly in love.