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"So is he an alien?" asked Vala. She bent her head over her mug of cocoa and stuck out her tongue in an attempt to extract one of the marshmallows floating at the top. She slurped successfully.
"No, Santa is not an alien," said Cameron.
"I'm not entirely sure I know what a 'sleigh' is, but I'm pretty certain the only technology on your planet which is capable of taking a person around the world in that span of time is not available to the common people. Is he military?"
"He's not military." Cameron scratched the tines of his fork along the surface of his pumpkin pie. He'd been oddly thrilled to see something seasonal in the commissary, but then he remembered that the food here was nourishing at best, and had never actually made anyone vomit at worst.
"So how does he get all around the world in one night? I mean, Samantha explained the physical science of it to me, the Earth's rotation and time zones and such, but I still don't think it would be possible."
"It's magic, Vala."
"There's no such thing, Colonel Mitchell," she said, in a tone that suggested she felt she was the one explaining this to a child, and not the other way around. "Magic is just how the less intelligent justify how they don't understand simple slight of hand."
"Yes, but... he's not real, Vala, you understand that, right?"
"Of course I understand that. What I don't understand is how you explain this myth to children in any way that makes sense."
"The same way that Goa'uld explain to the Jaffa why they have to be subservient."
"Then is this Santa Claus an evil overlord?"
Cameron sighed and dropped his head. "Would an evil overlord bring presents to all the children of the world?"
"Not all children celebrate Christmas, though," said Vala. "Does he bring presents to them, too, or does he just hold them prisoner?"
"Vala, he does not... He doesn't hold anyone prisoner." Cameron knew he was treading on delicate ground with the whole Goa'uld explanation, but now he could feel his sanity slipping. He shoved a mouthful of pie into his traitorous maw. He regretted it instantly.
"What about the elves?"
"They work there," he said, spewing crumbs.
"Do they get paid?"
"Call me crazy, but I'm not an expert on elf unions. Sure, they get paid. In... gingerbread cookies."
"Those are slave wages. I was a slave, for about a week once, actually, and I think I still got more than that."
"Elves are about half your size."
"That excuses nothing. And what is this business about knowing if I've been bad or good? How would he know?"
"Magic?"
"He must be using some sort of technological advantage to spy on everyone. Are you sure he's not military?"
"Vala, I have the highest level of clearance that even exists. Don't you think if Santa Claus was military, I'd know about it?"
"Samantha, maybe, but not you."
If she'd thought that blatant attacks against his intelligence were going to warm him to her, he didn't know what she was smoking. "You know what?" he said, brightening instantly as the idea occurred to him. He smiled at her. "You're absolutely right." Vala preened. "So why don't you go ask her? Or better yet, why don't you ask Teal'c?"
"You're just trying to get rid of me," she pouted.
"Vala, I'm trying to answer your questions to the best of my ability, and it's not cutting it. But Teal'c's practically an expert on this; you know how much the guy loves Earth culture. Seriously, go ask him, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to tell you." Well, 'thrilled' was a bit of a stretch, but whatever worked.
Vala eyed him suspiciously for a long moment, then apparently decided to find the wisdom in his statement. She dipped two fingers in her cocoa and pulled out another marshmallow. "All right, I will," she said, and pranced off.
Cam took another tentative bite of pie. "God bless us, every one." He spit it back out.