Scrooge - Chapter Three

[deaconite.livejournal.com]

Title: Scrooge
Author: Deaconite
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Past Greg/Clive, Chip/Jeff, Richard/Tony
Summary: It's Christmas, normally a time of joy. But Greg Proops is not in the Christmas spirit. All that will change when he is visited by three ghosts.
Disclaimer: All fictional. Based on Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.

Chapter Three - One Hell of a Large Bill

Greg was awoken by the sound of loud music. Groaning, he groped for his glasses, thinking that it was just typical for his neighbours to be having a party this late. It wasn’t until he sat up that he realised that the music was coming from downstairs, not from next door. Frowning, Greg got out of bed and peered out of the room, seeing lights on in the hallway below.

Creeping down the stairs and entering his living room, Greg was startled to see that it had been redecorated. A huge tree stood in the corner, covered in lights and tinsel. Banners, mistletoe and wreaths of holly hung from the walls and ceiling. A fire roared in the fireplace. And stretched from one wall to the other was a large table laid out with food; roasted duck, turkey, goose, mince pies, Christmas pudding, bowls of fruit and bottles of wine.

At the head of the table, there sat a large figure - a giant of a man, with a large belly and long beard, dressed in a green robe. Upon seeing Greg, the figure beamed and cried, “Come in! Come in and know me better, man.”

“Who are you and what the hell have you done to my room?”

“I am the ghost of Christmas present; I am simply spreading around the Christmas spirit.”

“Well you can go spread it somewhere else.” Greg glared at the new spirit, his arms crossed against his chest. “Christ, can’t a guy just get some goddamn sleep around here without getting haunted?”

The spirit chuckled and stood, gesturing Greg to move closer. “You’ve never seen anyone like me before, have you?”

“Well, my old buddy Mike looks a bit like you, but you’re a lot taller.”

“Over two thousand of my siblings came come before me!”

Greg’s eyes widened. “Two thousand? God, I’d hate to imagine the shopping bills.”

The spirit laughed. “So,” he said, holding out his arm, “it is time for us to go out into the world. Touch my robe.”

“Is it clean?”

The spirit gestured impatiently, so Greg held out his hand on to hold the spirit’s robe. Immediately the room melted away, turning to a busy street. It was daytime, and crowds were swarming on the sidewalks. Snow filled the air, and carolers were trying to be heard over the sounds of traffic. The spirit led Greg through the streets until they were outside an apartment block. They entered through the wall, and started to climb the stairs.

“You know, the last spirit just teleported us everywhere,” Greg said as he tried to catch his breath.
“A little exercise is always a good thing,” came the reply, and up and up they went.

Finally, they walked into an apartment on the fifth floor. Inside was the smell of food being cooked. In the corner was a small tree overlooking a small pile of presents, and decorations hung from every wall.

The door opened, and two more people walked in. Greg recognised one of them as his assistant Jeff, who was helping the other man inside.

“Hey, is dinner ready yet?” Jeff called, helping his friend, who was extremely out of breath, into a chair.

“Almost!” One of the people from the kitchen, a skinny man with blond hair, started laying out cutlery. “It’d be done quicker if you came and helped.”

“All right, what needs doing?”

“Sean needs help with the vegetables.”

“Alright. Chip, help Jonathan with the table, yeah?” Jeff hurried into the kitchen. “Okay, what needs doing?”

Sean pointed to a bag of potatoes. “Wash, peel and chop those, then put them on to boil.” He bent down to check the turkey in the oven. “How was the service?”

“It was really good,” Jeff replied, getting a knife from the drawer. “You should have seen Chip there. He was singing the carols loud as anything, and afterwards he was going on about how Christmas was the time for miracles and healing, and well... it was really heartwarming.” He tipped the potatoes in a pan and placed it on the stove. “Is Heather coming today?”

“No, she couldn’t make it; she’s all tied up with work.”

“Damn, I was looking forward to seeing her. Haven’t seen her since the wedding.”

Soon, the table was laid, the food was cooked, and Sean was carrying through the turkey. The smell was wonderful, and Greg found himself wishing he could sit down and eat as well.

“Before we start,” Jonathan said, piling food onto everyone’s plates, “does anyone want to make to make a toast?”

“To Sean,” Chip said, “for cooking all the food.”

There was a general murmur of “Hear hear!”

“To Jeff, for finding the good bargains.”

“To Jonathan, for helping.”

“To Chip, for setting up the tree.”

“And lastly,” said Jeff, holding up his glass, “to the founder of the feast, Mr Proops.”

Sean choked on his mouthful of wine. “Greg Proops, founder of the feast?” he spluttered. “Your boss? The guy who pays you crap pay for long hours? That Mr Proops?”

“If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have a job at all,” Jeff replied. “I’m grateful to him. You know how hard it is to get work these days, especially for someone with barely any experience.”

“But he isn’t giving you any experience; you’re stuck doing accounting.”

“Even so; I toast Mr Proops.”

Even Greg could feel the frost coming from Sean, and the silence was unbearable. Eventually, Chip raised his glass to toast Greg, followed by Jonathan and then finally Sean. The air around the table remained cold for several moments more, but Chip made everyone smile with some funny songs, and soon they were all laughing and chatting happily as they ate.

“You know, that turkey is rather small for four people,” Greg observed.

“Money is tight for them,” the spirit said. “Sean is searching for work to no avail, and Chip, for all his gentle cheer, is too ill.”

They watched as the meal was finished, and the plates cleared away. Chip made to start the washing up, but was doubled up by a long series of hacking coughs. Jeff ran over, a faint look of terror on his face as Chip spat a glob of bloody mucus into a tissue.

“Spirit, what’s wrong with him?”

“Chip? He has a weak chest,” the spirit replied. “Coughs and colds affect him worse than they would other people.”

“Why doesn’t he go to a hospital?”

“He’s unable to; he doesn’t have any health insurance, and can’t afford the treatment.”

“Christ. Jeff never mentioned anything like this.”

“When have you ever showed an interest in his personal life?”

“I....” Greg trailed off, not able to make a reply. Jeff guided Chip over to the couch handing him a glass of water and a kiss on the cheek. “Will he survive?”

The spirit gazed at Chip impassively. “If things here stay the same, there will be an empty chair in a music-less apartment not long from now.” He held his arm out for Greg. “Come; now is our time to leave.”

They left as the presents were being opened. On the way down the stairs, they past a young blonde woman making her way up.

They made their way through the streets again. The snow had stopped falling and had turned muddy on the ground, but the lights from the buildings still shone brightly, and soon they stopped outside a house that Greg recognised.

“It is a shame that the one time you visit your nephew is when he cannot see you,” the spirit said with a smile, leading Greg through the wall and into the front room.

As they entered, Greg could hear Richard laughing. He was sat at a piano, a group of people standing around, and they had just finished singing.

“Tony, you’re dreadful. Utterly dreadful.”

The man this was directed at had the expression of pure innocence. “Darling, my lyrics are wonderful.”

“Yes, but they’re not fit for the public.”

“They’re no worse than Frosty’s ones,” said a tall woman with long hair. “What was the one you were singing on the way over?”

A large bald man with huge eyebrows started singing in a gruff voice, and the group fell about laughing. Greg stared them them confused; the man’s accent was so thick that Greg hadn’t understood the lyrics.

Richard shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes. “You’re all as bad as each other.”

“Anyway,” said Tony, running a hand through his mop of black hair, “shall we move onto some party games? I think we have Twister in the cupboard.”

“Nah, lets save that later,” said the tall woman. Greg realised that he had met her; Richard had brought her round to the theatre once. Josie, her name was. “It’s always more fun when people are drunk.”

“All the more reason to keep drinking!” said a woman beside her. She went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, refilling everyone’s glass.

“Thanks Caroline.”

“Cheers Carol.”

“So, what are we doing then?” Tony asked, squeezing onto the piano bench next to Richard.

“A game of alphabet?”

“Monopoly.”

“Lets play Blind Man’s Bluff!”

Josie ran out to grab a scarf to use as blindfold, and soon they were stumbling around the house like children. Greg watched as the man with the thick northern accent (he could just about make out one word of every five) catch Caroline again; he seemed to have eyes in his shoes, and only went after her when it was his turn

“Frosty, you’re such a cheat!” Caroline giggled. “It’s outrageous.”

“He fancies her, I bet,” Greg said to the spirit.

The spirit nodded. “They’re getting married in a couple of months.”

“Must be nice, getting married.”

“I thought only fools did that?”

Greg shrugged, his eyes on Richard and Tony, who were kissing under some mistletoe. “Still, it must be nice.”

The party went on for a long time. The spirit tried to make Greg leave, but he was reluctant to say farewell to the warmth and liveliness. Eventually, as the clock chimed half past one, Greg finally consented to go. As he stepped out, Greg noticed that the spirit’s hair had turned grey, and wrinkles were appearing on his face.

“Is your live so short?” he asked.

“My time upon the earth is very brief,” the spirit said, leading Greg up a hill overlooking the city. “It ends tonight.”

“So soon?”

The spirit nodded. “I have but a few minutes left.”

A cold wind had picked up, and swirled around the remaining leaves on the ground. Greg looked at the spirit and saw it fading. Smiling, the spirit raised a hand in goodbye, and vanished completely.

Yet again, Greg was left on his own.

Comments

[gorrlaus.livejournal.com]

Yay Frosty! :D What a lovely x-mas scene at the end there, with piano and mistletoe... <3 Who is this Sean-guy btw, is there a WhoseLiner I have missed??

[deaconite.livejournal.com]

Sean is Sean Masterson, he did Green Green and was in a couple of Improvaganza episodes.

Thanks for commenting! I was going for a bit of fluff with that Christmas scene, so I'm glad you liked it.