After declassification of the Stargate Program, thousands upon thousands of letters and emails poured in to the special addresses that had been set up. An entire staff supplied with the official FAQ answered the messages. There were standard replies for the xenophobes and the xenophiles, the people who decried the costs of the project, and the ones who wanted autographed pictures of everyone who had gone out into space.

One letter, though, was passed up to the director of the department, then to the PR officer, then to the assistant of the commanding officer.

Jack O'Neill leaned his elbows on his desk while he rubbed his temples fretfully. "It was supposed to solve problems, they said. The people would settle down eventually, they said." He opened his eyes and stared down at a flier that had been discovered that announced the Church of the Ancients. A glowing figure stood with arms outstretched, and it didn't take too much squinting to see that the figure's face was Daniel Jackson's. Rumor had it that a dart board had appeared in Daniel's office and that this flier appeared on the board regularly.

A knock on his office door made him groan. "Yes?"

"Sorry to interrupt, sir," Walter said. He was carrying a piece of paper. Jack hated pieces of paper. "An odd email has come in to the comment line."

"Not another question about the sex habits of the Wraith?"

"No, sir."

"Nothing about sex in zero-G?"

"Um, no, sir."

"Because I've noticed a trend in these emails."

"It's from a six-year-old, sir."

"I've become very cynical in my old age, Walter." He put out a hand. "Let me see."

Walter handed over the printout. Jack tried extending his arm far enough to read the small print, then sighed and reached for his reading glasses.

"Dear Stargate Command:

"My name is Dylan, and I'm 6 years old. Does Santa go to Atlantis? I watched Santa last year on your Norad tracker, and Mommy says they couldn't show Santa going to Atlantis because we weren't supposed to know Atlantis exists. But now we do know, and I don't think Santa has time to get to Atlantis on Christmas Eve along with everybody else, even with wormholes. Don't they get to have Christmas?"

"Huh," Jack said.

"Santa going to Atlantis is not included in the standard FAQ sheet, sir," Walter replied. "The response team doesn't know what to say."

"What, nobody down there has read 'Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus'?"

"I don't think they wanted to put Stargate Command in a position of officially declaring Santa Claus as real."

"Hmph. If I have to put up with a universe with the Ori and the Wraith, I'm having Santa Claus, too." He pulled off his glasses decisively. "Get me whoever's in charge of the Santa Tracker on the phone."

"Yes, sir."

*13 minutes later*

"General? Colonel Evangelyne McDonald, Norad Santa Tracker, Line 3."

"Thanks, Walter. Colonel McDonald, this is General O'Neill over at SGC."

"How do you do, General?" Colonel McDonald's voice sounded very puzzled. "It's an honor to speak to the SGC, but are you sure you've reached the correct department?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sure. Listen, we got an email from a kid who's a fan of your Santa Tracker, and he wants to know if Santa goes to Atlantis and why you don't show him headed, I don't know, out of the galaxy."

Colonel McDonald laughed. "We got a couple of emails like that this year. We told them that Norad is only geared to track Santa in Earth space and we don't have the range to track him to the Pegasus Galaxy."

Jack nodded. "Good answer, but I've got a clever kid here who's worried that Santa doesn't have time to get there and back on Christmas Eve. Do you think if your computer people and my computer people had a brief chat that we could account for a few minutes flight time?"

"Well, I don't see why not. We've got him scheduled for a stop at the International Space Station, I think that's a good jumping off point for a trip to Pegasus. Someone's bound to ask if he takes a tour through the other galaxies, you know."

"We'll tell them that he drops off a special load in Atlantis and that the folks out there take care of distribution."

She laughed again. "I'll make sure to get the FAQ updated on our end. Anything else, General?"

"Nope, good working with you, Colonel. Merry Christmas."

"Joyeux Noel, General."

Jack hung up the phone. "Walter!"

"Sir?"

"We've got some work to do."

*Christmas Eve*

Dylan stared at the computer screen. "Mommy!"

"What is it, honey?"

"Mommy, look!"

She leaned over to look at the update page of the Norad Santa Tracker. Santa had just finished at the International Space Station, and the Next Stop ticker said "Pegasus Galaxy, Atlantis. We regret we have no tracking systems in that area but we should pick Santa up again in about ten minutes when he returns to Earth."

"They *do* get Christmas, Mommy! But how can he get there so fast?

She kissed Dylan's head and chuckled. "I think between Santa and the Stargate, anything's possible."