Santana rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at the clock. Unless somebody had pranked him and set his clocks back, there was no reason anyone should’ve been ringing his doorbell. Santana looked at the scoop of ground coffee in his hands, then, at the coffee maker, and then, at the door. He grumbled as he put the scoop of coffee down and went to the door.

“Yes, yes, what is — oh,” said Santana, looking at the young man in front of him. “Jack? What business do you have with me, at this unseemly hour?”

“I was, uh, actually here to pick up Pandora, to go down to The Wreath — you know, as is tradition,” said Jack.

“No, I know,” grumbled Santana. “Give me a second to wake up Princess Christmas. Frikkin’ four in the morning, you’ve got to be kidding me…must be running on South Pole Time…”

Santana went up the stairs and rapped at his daughter’s door.

“Pandora?” called Santana. He waited a minute for an answer and heard nothing.

“Pandora! There’s a boy at the door! That Jack kid,” said Santana. “I guess if you’re not up, I should tell him to go away.”

He heard the sound of feet hitting the floor with a thud and dresser drawers opening. He chuckled to himself. No matter how old Pandora got, he’d always be her dad, and he knew exactly how to get her out of bed in the morning.

“I’ll be right there!” called Pandora.

“Uh-huh,” said Santana. “Well, make it snappy — you know I’m not one for entertaining, and I can’t let the poor boy freeze to — well, I guess he can’t exactly freeze, now, can he?”

Santana walked back downstairs. Jack was outside. He looked to be sweating. Apparently, the weather up North wasn’t cold enough for him.

“Come on in, boy,” ordered Santana. “I was just making some coffee. So. You. My daughter. The Wreath.”

“Yes, sir?” asked Jack, taking a seat.

“What do you know about…The Wreath?” asked Santana.

“That it’s in Montana,” said Jack.

“That all, boy?” asked Santana gruffly.

“I mean, I don’t know where to start,” said Jack. “There’s the bakery, there’s Krampus, there are all kinds of folks, and —”

“Good,” said Santana. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

“What?” asked Jack.

“That the place is indescribable to you,” said Santana.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Jack. “I didn’t mean to offend, I…I just, well, I’m not used to it, is all. Every year, I’ve felt like I’ll get used to all this, the Christmas magic, but, I don’t. Every year, it’s like my first Christmas up here, all over again. It’s just…”

“It’s the power of Christmas magic,” said Santana. “The fact you aren’t trying to look at it under a microscope like, well…”

“You can say it,” said Jack. “Like my father.”

“Well, Boreas has his reasons for…his ways, as I have my reasons for mine,” said Santana. “I just wanted to make sure that my daughter’s boyfriend has the proper attitudes about Christmas magic. After all, you two’ve hung out for years now. That means you have an influence on her, and I see that it’s a positive one. No wonder she hasn’t lost her Christmas spirit yet, like many young people your age have. You two’ve gotten up to plenty of Christmas mischief, but it’s just that – mischief. You may play the bad boy, but I don’t exactly see you riding a motorcycle or slinging coke. You’re just Naughty sometimes, that’s all – and heck, you’ve never even made that list. You two’ve got the Christmas spirit. No two ways about it.”

“I don’t know how people lose that spirit,” admitted Jack. “It’s something that I can’t imagine not believing in.”

“Great,” said Santana. He slapped his hand down on the table and lifted it up. A present box appeared underneath it. He pushed the box across the table to Jack.

“What’s this?” asked Jack.

“An early Christmas gift,” said Santana. “Open it.”

“Christmas gifts are for Christmas,” said Jack.

“Boy, if Santa Claus tells you to open a gift early, you open it early,” warned Santana.

“Point taken,” said Jack. “Guess I’ll be Naughty.” He opened the box. Inside was a certain heavily loaded item.

“Uh…” started Jack.

“What?” asked Santana. “Not your size?” Santana chuckled at his dad joke.

“Are you sure I’m meant to get this?” asked Jack.

“You think Santa Claus made a mistake?” asked Santana with a frown.

“N-no sir,” said Jack. “So if I used this…”

“I wouldn’t feed you to my reindeer, and, if you don’t use it, I still won’t,” said Santana. “You wanna waste your fuckin’ time, fine. Just don’t break my daughter’s heart, or I’ll feed you to the reindeer.”

“Dad?” called a voice. “Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing! Dad, are you giving him the third frikkin’ degree? What was all this about feeding him to the reindeer?”

“Of course I am,”‘ said Santana, shooting Jack a wink. “Wasn’t I, Jack?”

“You know I can’t keep any secrets from Santana Claus,” said Jack, pocketing the gift. “After all, he knows whether I’m Naughty or Nice.”

“And?” asked Pandora, coming down the stairs into the kitchen. “Is Jack Naughty? Or is he Nice?”

“Well, I gotta go to work now,” said Santana, avoiding the question. “I’ll leave you kids to it. Pandora, we’ve got dinner with Krampus and Avery tonight, so I trust I can meet you down in The Wreath for that tonight? I don’t have to come back here and pick you up?”

“Of course you do, Dad,” said Pandora, furrowing her brow. “If you don’t pick me up, then how will I — oh!”

“Exactly, kiddo,” said Santana, shooting Pandora a wink. “Safe flying. And hey, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” said Pandora as Santana left the house. She turned to Jack and gave him the once over.

“What’re you looking for?” asked Jack.

“I just wanna make sure my dad didn’t pull some Christmas mischief and, oh, I don’t know, decide you were the bad boy that Krampus needed to tame this year,” said Pandora. “He didn’t take away your shift, or your magic, and slap a big ol’ tattoo reading, ‘Naughty,’ on you, did he?”

“Well, I don’t think so,” said Jack, confused.

“Well…if you aren’t sure, we might as well go upstairs, to my room, to check,” said Pandora, walking her fingers up Jack’s chest.

“Your room?” asked Jack. “Why would we go to your room to — oh!”

“Exactly,” said Pandora. “I can’t exactly strip you down in the kitchen. What would the neighbors think?”

Pandora led Jack by the hand up the stairs. Santana Claus’ home was cozy — not some giant Christmas themed mansion. It was big enough for two people to live comfortably (with three bathrooms — one for each Claus, and one for guests) and big enough for entertaining. With Befana living there, things had been a little…cramped, until Santana had the space extended. There was now an extra bathroom for Befana, as well as a larger master bedroom, and a big broom storage closet for Befana — and of course, the brooms weren’t exactly for cleaning.

Pandora opened the door to her bedroom. Jack had been in there before, when they’d hang out and listen to music and eat pizza after long days spent down at The Wreath. Back in those days, Pandora would have to get her car magically transported down to The Wreath, or use the tunnel Krampus had retrofitted to teleport vehicles magically between a tunnel at The North Pole and a tunnel at The Wreath. Now, she could just fly down at will.

Well, The Wreath and the delicious eggnog lattes and the white chocolate cranberry scones and the spiced sugar cookies could all wait.

Pandora had some other business to attend to.

Pandora closed the door behind her. Her room was cozy, with a set of red and green and cream flannel sheets on the queen-sized bed.

“Now, now, now,” said Pandora. “Have you been Naughty this year…or have you been Nice?”

“I don’t know, Miss Claus, why don’t you tell me?” challenged Jack. He slid off his black leather jacket and tossed it aside.

“I guess I’m going to have to check your ‘list,’” joked Pandora. She started to unbutton Jack’s shirt. Jack looked up and saw something. Jack looked down at Pandora and gently crooked a finger underneath her chin to get her attention. He pointed up.

“Are…you frikkin’…serious?” hissed Pandora, looking up at the biggest, gaudiest mistletoe kissing ball in The North Pole. It looked like it was made of pure crystal.

“That’s not one of yours?” joked Jack.

“You know perfectly well it isn’t!” said Pandora. “It must be a joke played on me by Avery — or by Krampus — or maybe even —”

“By me?” asked Jack, snapping his fingers. The frost snap caused flakes of ice to come off of the ball. Jack spun his index finger, and the mistletoe ball lazily shook in the air. The ball wasn’t made of crystal at all. It was made of ice and snow.

“Jack, you really are Naughty,” said Pandora.

She reached up, wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck, and got on her tippy toes to kiss him. Just as their lips brushed. Jack picked Pandora up and hiked her legs up so they were around his waist. Pandora felt Jack’s throbbing cock through his pants. It was just as cold as the rest of his body, but it made Pandora feel warmer, not colder. Jack carried Pandora over to her bed and lay her down on the soft flannel sheets.

“Fuck,” said Pandora, taking a breath.

“That is the plan,” said Jack, undoing the last button on his shirt and tossing it aside.

Pandora reached forward to grab Jack’s pants button and undo it, but Jack tapped her hand away!

“Nuh-uh,” teased Jack, waggling a finger in her face. “Don’t you need to check me for marks first? See if your dad slapped the Naughty mark on me?”

“We’re still playing that game?” asked Pandora, raising an eyebrow.

“You know I only play games I can win,” said Jack.

“That’s…patently not true,” said Pandora. “I beat you at checkers all the time.”

“Whatever, it sounded sexier in my head,” said Jack, blushing. “Anyway. Check me. Come on. Roleplay always helps to…break the ice.”

Pandora burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay,” said Pandora, wiping tears of laughter out of her eyes. “That one was good. Corny, but good.” Pandora got up and looked over Jack’s torso. Pandora did what museums explicitly tell patrons not to do and ‘looked with her hands.’ She ran her hands over Jack’s firm pecs. There was a light sheen of cold sweat on him. Was he nervous? Or was she really that much of a burden to carry? She was a BBW, so that did come with the territory.

“Okay, your front’s clean,” said Pandora. “Arm’s up. Let me check your sides.”

Jack put his arms up. Pandora looked at both his sides. They were clean. This was such a silly game. Of course, there wasn’t a special mark on him.

“The back,” said Jack. “Can’t forget the back.”

Pandora turned Jack and ran her hands over his broad shoulders, his thick, strapping back muscles, and felt a shiver run down her spine. Whether the shiver was caused by Jack’s naturally ice-cold temperature, or whether it was caused by her desire to feel his icicle pierce her Christmas stocking, well, she wasn’t quite sure.

“It’s fine,” said Pandora, crossing her arms.

“Why don’t you…check the front again?” asked Jack.

“I already checked it,” said Pandora.

“Check again,” insisted Jack.

“Fine,” said Pandora, turning Jack back around. “If it’ll get you to…”

Pandora’s words trailed off as she realized why Jack had played this game with her.

In the end, Jack had won the game — and so had she.

Jack had chosen to reveal his mate mark to her.

Pandora knew all about mate marks. She was a shifter, after all. Fate was an entirely different thing from Christmas magic. Some said it was a school of magic. Some said it was a being. Other said it couldn’t be explained at all. The more she learned about Fate, the more Pandora agreed with those that thought that Fate and her ways were inexplicable.

Every shifter got a mate mark, whether they were ‘normal’ like the werebears Krampus had rehabilitated at Camp Kringle, or whether they were magical beings, like Krampus, her father, Boreas Winter, or Ginny Sahra.

Pandora and Jack, well, they weren’t exceptions to that rule.

The marks lead shifters to their fated mates. During the claiming of a mate, if the mark did ‘something,’ that meant that the match was fated. It seemed simple, but somehow, it often managed to make things even more complicated than they had to be.

Most shifters were forced to show their mate marks on their bodies at all times, like werebears that always had the mark plastered on their chest – and like Pandora.

Pandora had never seen Jack’s mate mark. Unlike other shifters, the elementals could keep their marks hidden, and Jack, well, he’d always kept it secret, until that moment.

The mark on Jack’s left pec was of half of a heart. If one looked closely, one could see that the heart looked lacy. If one looked even more closely, they’d not only be far too close to Jack Frost for comfort, but they’d also see that the pattern wasn’t of lace, but of a fractal pattern like that…of a snowflake.

“This is me,” said Jack. “I thought you should know, before we go any further, in case this changes your mind about anything.”

“It does,” said Pandora. “Jack…this changes everything.”

“How so?” asked Jack. “Does this mean that —”

Pandora held a finger up to Jack’s lips. Pandora was wearing a pair of loose gym shorts and a tank top, as she hadn’t changed for the day yet, because she was busy making sure her room was clean in preparation for what was going to happen next, and she had to hurry downstairs to make sure her father wasn’t scaring Jack away.

Pandora lifted the tank top off of her head.

The tank top got caught at her bust.

Pandora tugged it harder and it came up around her face, trapping her like a thick cobweb.

“Damn it,” said Pandora. “This was supposed to be my big, dramatic reveal!”

“Drama and comedy are two sides of the same theatrical mask,” said Jack, helping Pandora remove her tank top.

“Look,” said Pandora, pointing to her cleavage.

“Uh…I don’t know how to tell you this…but, you’re very curvy, Pandora, so I can’t see anything except a bit of a red mark,” said Jack. “Do you have a rash?”

Pandora looked down. Her thick cleavage had ruined the moment for her once again!

“Okay, watch,” said Pandora. She took a breast in each hand and separated her cleavage.

Along her left breast, there was half of a heart. If Jack and Pandora had stood side by side, the two half hearts would’ve looked identical, but, standing face to face, the two halves became a single whole heart.

“We were always meant to be,” said Pandora.

“I don’t need some stupid mark to tell me that,” said Jack, tipping Pandora’s face up. “Now…are you going to sit on my lap or what?”

“I’m the Claus here,” said Pandora. “You should sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Jack, kissing Pandora’s hand. “There’s only one thing I want for Christmas, and I think I’m about to open that present early.” Jack picked Pandora up and lay her down on her bed. Jack ran a finger up Pandora’s legs. Her upper torso was nude, but her lower body was not. He found the waistband of her gym shorts with ease and loosened them from her hips.

“You want these off, right?” asked Jack.

“I think it’s gonna be tough to claim me if they’re still on my body,” said Pandora, sitting up. “But…same applies to you. Are we getting Naughty or what?”

Jack undid his jeans button. “Trust me. We are.” Jack unzipped his pants and dropped them to the floor, revealing that he was wearing a pair of tight, icy blue boxer briefs. He lowered them, and a huge dick popped out. Pandora’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull.

“Uh…are you using ice magic to make that icicle bigger, or, are you just happy to see me?” asked Pandora.

“Trust me — this is all me,” said Jack, stroking his shaft. “Now, are you telling me a big, curvy woman like you is afraid of some cock?”

“No, I’m not,” said Pandora. “I just never thought my first time would be —”

“Neither did I,” said Jack. “I mean, with a woman like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Pandora with a huff.”

“I never thought I’d be so lucky to get here,” said Jack.

“You mean that you’re a —” started Pandora.

“Yeah, first time,” said Jack. “You?”

“Yeah,” said Pandora shyly. “I was, uh…waiting for this guy.”

“Weird coincidence,” said Jack. “You see…there’s this woman I was waiting for. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Pandora, turning back to Jack. “Yeah, it is.”

Pandora slid her panties off and tossed them aside. She pushed Jack down on to her bed and gave him a kiss. That, they’d done before, after their first date at a little Chinese restaurant down at The Wreath a few days earlier, but…going further than that, well, that was something Pandora wasn’t exactly prepared for.

Pandora pressed her lips to Jack’s, closed her eyes, and pressed her hands on his chest, feeling his icy coldness. He was wet. Pandora was surprised — she didn’t take Jack for a nervous sweater. Pandora chuckled to herself.

“What?” asked Jack.

“You’re just…nervous, aren’t you?” asked Pandora.

“Hell yeah I am,” said Jack, pushing Pandora over so she was on her back. “After all, I’m about to have sex with the most beautiful woman in the world, you know.”

“Oh, stop,” said Pandora, blushing.

Jack stopped.

“It’s a saying,” said Pandora. “Go on.”

“You sure?” asked Jack, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re ready to take this step, Pandora?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been before,” said Pandora. “Take me, Jack Frost…and make me yours.”

“Only if you agree to make me yours,” said Jack, pressing his lips against Pandora’s. He gently pushed her onto her back and spread her legs. He looked down to aim and then looked up at Pandora’s face as he slid into her for the first time.

Pandora was a virgin, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know her way around her own body. As Jack entered her, the feeling was strange, slightly uncomfortable, but his cock was ice-cold as his body. It sent a shiver up her spine and numbed her canal, so she didn’t feel as uncomfortable after a while, as her body acclimated to his body’s temperature.

“Fuck,” moaned Pandora, dragging her nails over Jack’s back.

“You’re hot,” groaned Jack. “Never thought it’d be that way.”

“Yeah, well, you’re ice-cold,” said Pandora. “Is that your magic or just you?”

“Probably a little column A, little column B,” said Jack, pulling out of Pandora and sliding back into her heat.

“Oh, Jack,” begged Pandora, leaning back, gripping her warm flannel sheets in her hand as she was taken by the blizzard in her bedroom. “Your ‘South Pole’ is…it’s so cold!”

Jack increased his rhythm, pressing in and out of Pandora faster and faster as her body’s juices flowed down his cock. At first, Jack’s cock’s cooling effect made taking his thick icicle more tolerable, but, as Pandora’s body made hot juices, the cock slid back and forth easily, like a well-oiled piston. Pandora pulled Jack closer with her legs, her hands on his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as the winter storm took her and she was lost in a blizzard of a desire that was white-hot and white-cold at the same time.

Every stroke of Jack’s cock made Pandora cold, but she wasn’t just a Claus — she was a bear shifter. Her inner panda roared, filling her with power and heat, in a tug of war between Jack’s natural chill and Pandora’s inner fire. The back and forth exchange was like a snowball fight, but the end of the exchange was more like the two of them sliding down an icy slope together. It was as if they were on a sled, holding onto one another as the sled left the hill, sailed through the air, and, for a split second, caused gravity to disappear before they came crashing back down.

As Jack and Pandora came at the same time, something magical happened. Her eyes glowed deep brown while Jack’s flashed bright blue. The mark on his chest turned crimson, as did the emblem on her chest. The two marks, as white as snowflakes, had become as red as the shapes they formed — two halves of the same crimson heart. As red light filled the lines of their existing marks, white lines trailed away from the marks, forming the second half of the hearts, so that each had a complete heart, half white, half red, belonging entirely to the other person, just as the other’s heart belonged to them.

“Holy…candy and nuts,” said Pandora. “Jack, this means we’re…”

“…Fated mates,” finished Jack, pulling out Pandora and lying next to her on the bed, still sweating from the lovemaking. “But I told you, Pandora — I didn’t need some mark to tell me that.”

Pandora moved to put her head on Jack’s chest. The sweat was steaming off his body…but it didn’t feel hot. It felt ice cold.

“Huh,” said Pandora, lifting up her head.

“What?” asked Jack. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Pandora. “You’re just…really, really sweaty. I don’t want to get sweat all in my hair…although I guess it’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Pandora reached up and patted her hair, which was tangled and moist from sex.

“No way,” said Jack. “I don’t sweat.”

“Oh, you’re some magical, dreamy guy who doesn’t sweat now?” asked Pandora.

“I mean, I just never have,” said Jack. “At least, I’d never noticed it before.”

“What do you call this?” asked Pandora, rubbing a hand on Jack’s hand and putting it in his face.

“Okay, I guess I do sweat, at least from sex,” said Jack, confused. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

What Jack didn’t say was that there’s also a last time for everything, and neither he nor Pandora had any clue that it was endings, rather than beginnings, that they ought to worry about.