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Chapter Text

December 2012

Tom comes running down the stairs just as Hal shuts the door rather abruptly on the poor, unsuspecting, postman.
Hal frowns at the box in his hands.

“It's another parcel for Annie from Brazil.”

“Brazil?”

“That's where the Amazon is, Tom.” He rolls his eyes, his tone condescending.

“Yeah, I know that. But they ain't from Brazil, Hal. Amazon is an online shop, like the Ebay.” Tom replies patiently, he knows Hal doesn't do it on purpose.

“The Ebay?”

“It's an auction website like when we watch Bargain Hunt. You can find anything on there, real cheap, it's dead good.”

“Hmm. Well, Amazon is a stupid name for a shop. Either way, I don't know why Annie needs quite so many packages.” Hal looks around them, there are several similar boxes already filling the hallway and many more tucked away in Annie's room upstairs.

Annie chooses that moment to come through the doorway from the living room, a basket of clean laundry under her arm. From her face it's clear she's overheard the conversation.

“It's Eve's first Christmas and I'd like it to be a special one. In case you hadn't noticed, shopping isn't very easy when you're invisible. And this way I can do all of the shopping in between night feeds, it's brilliant.”

“I think you may have gone overboard.” 

Annie glares at him and shifts the laundry basket to rest on her hip, holding her hand out to take the parcel for Hal. “Well, you're definitely on the naughty list.”

Hal smiles at her sarcastically and passes her the package. Tom watches the exchange with interest, he may have already snook into Annie’s room and shaken all of the packages in there, without much luck at guessing what was inside.

“Is there anything for me, like?”

“You'll have to wait to find out, Tom. You wouldn’t want to ruin any surprises, would you?” Annie might have also already caught Tom sneaking around her bedroom and Rent-A-Ghosted away before he noticed her. Luckily she was keeping his presents in the broom cupboard, he’d never look there.

“I was thinkin'...” Tom stares at the box now sitting on top of the neatly folded laundry and taps his chin. “...we should get Eve a bunny, she'd like that.”

Both Annie and Hal stare at him in horror. Hal is the first to recover.

“Now I've heard everything. Is it going to live in the swimming pool?” And he’d thought an outdoor swimming pool in Wales was the worst idea Tom would ever have.

“Nah, it could live in the house, I saw one on the telly.” Tom grins.

“Small animals and I don't mix.”

“You said that about babies, an' Eve loves ya’.” 

“We are not getting an infant a pet rabbit.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree with Hal.” Hal and Tom turn towards her and Tom realises he’s lost this battle.

“A toy one then.” 

“I think that would be best.” Annie offers Tom a small placating smile. The last thing she needs on top of looking after a baby, a naïve young werewolf, and a 500 year old vampire with anxiety issues, is a bunny rabbit hopping about under her feet.

“So you can buy anything on this Amazon?” Hal interrupts her thoughts.

“Pretty much.”

“Because I've always wanted to learn how to play the hurdy-gurdy...”

Chapter Text

December 2011

Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You can be heard blasting through the walls of Honolulu Heights from outside as George walks up the path to the front door.

He walks into the living room to find every surface covered in tinsel and glitter, with lights hanging from the bar and the fireplace, flashing multiple colours at random speeds.

Nina walks up to him with a sheepish smile, muttering under her breath.

“Don't blame me for this, this was all her.”

“I..I.. ...it's like a ...lovely grotto.” He calls out to Annie, who is balanced on a chair taping paper-chains to the ceiling.

“Oh! Don't worry, I didn't forget you.” She finishes her taping and Rent-a-Ghosts off the chair, appearing between George and the front window. “I know you don't really...do the whole Christmas thing. So... Tah Dah!” She opens her arms out wide to frame the Menorah placed on the bay windowsill. “I know it's still a little early but, happy Hanukkah!”

“...Thank you. How very thoughtful.”

Nina squeezes George's arm and gives him a peck on the cheek.

“You don't mind some of the traditions, do you?”

“Well, do I quite like sprouts. And little Christmas puddings” He grins and rubs her stomach with the back of his finger, the bump dwarfing her tiny frame, not long to go now.

Nina rolls her eyes but can't keep the smile off her face.

Annie lets out an audible “Aww” and then slightly embarrassed, Rent-a-Ghosts into the kitchen to make them all a well earned cup of tea.

Nina leans against the bar.

“If I hear Stay Another Day one more time I think I might commit a murder.”

“I think East 17 are underrated. Now, if it was Wizard I would understand.”

“Oh, we've had that on a too. And Slade. The CD's been stuck on a loop.” Nina rests her hand on her stomach. “I can't believe you like East 17.”

Annie comes back with the tea before George gets a chance to explain about his music choices.

“Oh look! You're in the perfect spot!”

George and Nina turn around to her in confusion. Annie sets down to tea and points to the top of the bar above them. George follows her gaze and lets out an almighty yelp, jumping backwards.

“GET AWAY NINA! M..m..m..mistletoe is highly toxic to werewolves.”

Nina frowns and stays exactly where she is, she'd helped Annie put it up and hadn't felt any effect.

“Where did you hear that?”

George blinks several times and cautiously moves back towards her.

“...It was on an episode of Doctor Who, actually.”

Annie bites her lip and catches Nina's eye, who stares at George in complete disbelief.

“Oh well, if it was on Doctor Who then it must be true.”

Chapter Text

3^rd December 2009

Mitchell is halfway through shoving a mince pie into his mouth when his nostrils are hit with a strong, unpleasant smell; thirty seconds later he can hear a key in the door.

George staggers in with his hold-all slung over his back, his shoes and tracksuit bottoms caked in mud.

“Jesus. What happened to you?”

“It was the full moon last night, Mitchell.”

“Yeah ...and?”

“And I need to find somewhere indoors to transform next time.”

“I thought you liked to be in the arms of mother-nature now?”

“Ha ha. It's freezing out there for a start. It took me ages to find my clothes, and then I fell over!”

George holds his arms out and gestures to himself.

“I can see that. What the hell is that smell?”

“...I think it rolled in fox poo.”

Mitchell screws up his face in disgust.

“You rolled in fox poo?”

“The wolf rolled in fox poo.”

“You stink George.”

Annie appears at the top of the stairs then Rent-a-Ghosts down into living room.

“Oh my god! What happened to you?!”

“So, George rolled in fox shite last night and then he took a mud bath this mornin'.” Mitchell laughs and catching Annie's eye only makes him laugh more.

“It wasn't me it was the wolf!” George's voice goes higher in protest.

Annie presses her lips together but a giggle still escapes.

“You need a shower.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Annie screws up her nose and folds her arms, George sighs and puts down his hold-all. He steps carefully across the floor towards the stairs, trying not to make any more mess than necessary. As he makes it to the bottom step, there's a knock at the front door.

“Oh! That's for me!”

Annie rushes past Mitchell and George who look at each other perplexed, asking a silent question neither of them know the answer to. They soon find out the answer as they hear Gilbert's voice coming from the doorway.

“Hey Annie.”

He steps inside as Annie shuts the door and nods at Mitchell.

“Alright.”

He then turns to George, looking at him up and down.

“What happened to you?”

George groans, all he wanted to do was to go and have a hot shower.

“It was the full moon last night and it was very wet and muddy this morning.”

Gilbert nods as if in thought, his lips pressed together tightly and his mouth turned down.

“It serves you right for giving into your carnivorous nature. Innocent animals don't deserve to die. Meat is murder.”

“Anyway. I'm going for a shower, nice to see you Gilbert.” George turns and heads up the stairs, swearing silently as he goes.

“Right.”

“So, what brings you here?” Mitchell's tone much colder than usual.

“Gilbert is taking me out.”

That only makes Mitchell frown more.

“Don't stay out too late, The Real Hustle is on at 10.30.”

“Don't worry grandad. I'll have her back in plenty of time.”

Gilbert pulls the cigarette out from behind his ear, Mitchell glares at him. Annie rolls her eyes at the pair of them.

“We're going to see the Christmas light switch on.” Annie wiggles her eyebrows and smirks at Mitchell, she'd been trying to persuade them to go with her instead to no avail. She still didn't feel comfortable leaving the house alone, but she didn't want to tell them that.

“We're going to sabotage it. It's a waste of electricity, created by the burning of fossil fuels that are polluting our atmosphere and causing global warming. Not to mention it's all driven by mindless capitalism.”

“We. Are. Not. We are not sabotaging anything.” Annie slaps his arm.

“Right, well, you guys have fun.” Mitchell turns around and heads back into the kitchen leaving them to it. He might as well finish off the rest of the mince pies and then maybe have some toast and coffee, that would do for breakfast at least.

Chapter Text

December 2013

Tom carries a very large fir tree into the living room of Honolulu Heights. As he props it up in the corner next to the Hawaiian mural, the top of the tree bends over against the ceiling. Tom stands back to admire his work while behind him Hal and Alex make their way into the room.

“Jeez, that's one big Christmas tree!”

Tom turns around and grins at them. “Went to the woods din I? Cut it down me-self.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea? I don't think you're supposed to do that.”

“Yeah, cause we've never done anything illegal.” Alex mutters. Hal gives her a look.

“We've gorra have a real tree, I ain't having no plastic tree in this house.”

“Even so. I think it may be a little large for the room.”

“It's alright, look!” 

They stare at the tree in silence and if anything, it looks even bigger. Then, from inside the branches comes a soft muffled coo.

“Hang on, what's that noise?” Alex frowns.

“I think it's coming from in there.”

“Coo coo”

There’s a loud rustling noise as a very confused and slightly dazed pigeon pokes its head out of the tree, followed by a simultaneous chorus of  “Oh my God” “Jesus Christ” and “Bloody 'ell”.

“It's a pigeon.” The disgust on Hal's face is clear.

"No shit, Sherlock." Alex's face almost mirrors Hal's and she doesn't take her eyes off the pigeon for a second.

“Cooo”

The pigeon flies out of the tree and lands on the bar. Alex screams at the sudden movement. 

“Get rid of it!”

“It won't 'urt ya'” 

“they're filthy and they flap at you and they have those scrawny little legs that go all knobbly in the city centre. And they attack you if you have food.”

Hal frowns at her, he’d never seen Alex like this before; she was normally so level-headed, even when facing demons or the guardians of the afterlife. 

“Pigeons do not attack people for food.”

“You've never been to Glasgow, clearly.”

“Well this 'int a Scottish pigeon, it's Welsh.”

“Quite right Tom, it's a different beast all together.”

“Can't one of you do your whole blahblahblah thing and kill it?” She pulls a face and mimes claws with her hands.

“I'm not killin' it.”

“Neither am I. I'm surprised you'd even suggest such a thing.” Hal scoffs. 

“Look, grab a shoe or something. Just get it out of here.”

Hal's voice softens ever so slightly. “I didn't know you were so scared of birds.”  

“Shut up.”

“That's not very nice.” Tom interjects, all he wanted to do was make the house nice and festive for his friends and so far it had only seemed to cause trouble.

“I just don't like pigeons okay?”

“Yes, we gathered that.”

“Anyway what if we killed it and it stayed 'ere as a ghost? Then we'd never get rid of it.”

Alex's tone turns apologetic. “I don't think animals can be ghosts, Tom.” 

“Actually, I did hear about this dog once...”

“Dogs can be ghosts?”

“In this one case, yes.”

“'ang on, so dogs can be ghosts but werewolves can't? How's that fair?”

“I think werewolves can be ghosts Tom, Kirby was lying to you.”

“Why didn't ya tell me that sooner?”

“Guys. Pigeon.”

“Right.”

Hal and Tom turn back towards the bar and the pigeon picks that exact moment to fly towards the three of them. Alex isn't the only one shrieking as they trip over themselves to get out of the way. They retreat through the swinging doors into the kitchen and take cover behind the counter. Sat on the kitchen floor, Hal freezes. Suddenly it's 1957 and he is back trapped in the labyrinth of the Miniature Circus; Coco and Cheep Cheep the budgerigars flapping and clawing at his face. How Pearl had screamed when she came in to find he'd ripped them to pieces.

“Hal mate, are you alright?” Tom waves his hand in front of Hal’s face with no response. He lightly puts a hand on Hal's arm, waiting for him to come back into the present.

Alex closes her eyes, grits her teeth and Rent-A-Ghosts into the living room. 

“Fucksake. If you want something doing around here, do it yourself." She mutters to herself while marching towards the window. She keeps a close eye on the pigeon, which seems to have now taken a perch on the coat-stand.

Back in the kitchen Hal blinks and comes back into reality, looking down at Tom's hand, which is quickly withdrawn. Tom stands up sheepishly and puts the kettle on. "Gave me a scare then, mate."

In the living room Alex pulls up the blinds, opens the window and ducks out of the way as the pigeon decides to make a quick exit. "There. Easy-peasy. I don't know what all the fuss was about."

As Tom makes the tea he decides that maybe, a plastic tree wouldn't be so bad after all. 

Chapter Text

December 2012

Tom shifts his weight from one foot to the other whilst bouncing Eve up and down in his arms; he watches Annie as she strings up more and more lights and attaches them to the bamboo cladding of the bar. He had tried to insist that he would climb up the ladder instead, it didn’t seem right to let a lady struggle, but Annie had gotten quite fierce and insisted she was the only one who could do it properly.

“So people really do this then?”

“Do what, Tom?”

“The lights and the tree and all the decorations everywhere?”

“Of course they do.”

“I thought it was just for the telly.”

He picks up a glittery bauble from one of Annie’s boxes and holds it up to show Eve. He spins it around, the glitter reflecting the multicoloured fairy-lights and creating a whirl of colours and patterns. Eve watches entranced and reaches out to touch the pretty lights.

As Tom’s words sink in, Annie frowns. Tom had never had a birthday cake before; what else had he missed out on, spending the best part of first twenty-one years of his life living rough in the woods?

“So... you’ve never had a Christmas tree before?”

“Nah. Sometimes we put tinsel up in the van. But there weren’t much room at the best of times.” Tom shrugs it off, picking up a different decoration to show Eve. This one has a little bell attached to it and he jingles it for her.

Annie finishes attaching the lights and turns around on the ladder.

“What did you do for Christmas then?”

“Not much really. We always had a few presents, mostly new stakes like but sometimes I’d get some new shoes, or a coat if I’d grown out of mine.” He looks back at Eve with a grin as she babbles, then returns his attention to Annie. “One year we went and took out this big coven of vampires and afterward me dad showed me how to make a bo.. ya know what never-mind. Anyways, it were never much different to a normal day. I never really saw what all the fuss was about.”

“What about food?” She climbs off the ladder and stands in front of him with her arms folded. "Surely you've had a proper Christmas dinner before?"

“If we were parked up close to a town we’d go to McDonald’s as a treat. Otherwise we’d build a big fire and have rabbit on a spit.”

“No pudding?”

“We might have a few mince pies if McNair remembered to nick some from the big shop.”

“Chocolate and sweets. Please tell me you had an Advent calendar?”

Tom looks at her in confusion.

“What’s an advent calendar?”

Annie decides there and then, that not only must this be the biggest and best ever Christmas for Eve, it has to be the most perfect Christmas for Tom too. There’s got to be fruit cake and pudding and a chocolate log. Turkey and stuffing, pigs in blankets, parsnips, carrots, sprouts, roast potatoes and gallons of gravy. No matter how grumpy Hal is, and how much he protests, she’s going to make him help her to make sure Tom and Eve have the most magical Christmas experience possible.

“Right. Get your coat, we’re going to Tesco. And when we get back, you’re going to help me decorate the tree.” Annie reaches out to take Eve off him while he gets ready.

“Really?”

“Really, really.” She gives Tom a big smile and then nuzzles Eve’s forehead with her nose.

“Thanks Annie, that’s ace.”

Chapter Text

Somewhere on the other side...

George and Nina are sat on the floor next to a heavily decorated Christmas tree, surrounded by shredded bits of wrapping paper. Nina bounces Eve up and down on her lap and George feels like the luckiest man in the world watching them both. Mitchell and Annie are sat on a familiar black leather sofa looking down at their friends, Annie cradling a cup of tea and Mitchell sipping a glass of Sherry, much to everyone else's amusement.

Something catches George's eye and he adjusts his glasses, leaning underneath the tree to retrieve what caught his attention. He pulls out four beautifully wrapped presents, all different shapes and sizes and inspects the names on the tags.

“There's another four gifts here, one for each of us.”

George passes Mitchell and Annie the presents with their names on and is about to pass Nina hers before she interrupts him.

“Can you open mine for me?”

George puts his own present on the floor and begins to unwrap Nina's. Inside he finds a mug that says World's Best Mum and small framed photograph of him, Nina, and Eve on the day they came home from the hospital.

“Aww.” George reads out the message on the mug and then holds the picture closer for Nina to see.

Nina smiles across at Annie, it must have been from her given George's reaction. She hugs her daughter closer to her, so far this had been the most perfect day imaginable.

Mitchell goes next. He rips the wrapping paper from his present with the enthusiasm of a child and inspects the contents with a great big grin on his face.

“It's a boxset of old Hollywood films. The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, Buster Keaton's The Cameraman, Nosferatu...” He laughs as he pulls that one out. “The original 1917 version of Theda Bara's Cleopatra... that's strange, I heard all the footage was destroyed in a fire in 1937...”

He looks at the DVDs in awe, he knows what they'll be watching later this evening. Next to him, Annie sighs internally. This must be George's doing. She'd have to make an excuse about helping Nina get Eve ready for bed and leave the boys to it.

George then takes the opportunity to unwrap his own gift. Squishing the oddly-shaped package between his hands first, whatever was inside it was soft. He rips the paper and pulls out a slightly worn-looking cuddly toy, that's vaguely shaped like a dog.

“I don't believe it...” He presses the toy to his nose and breathes in the unmistakeable scent. “Where on earth...? It's... It's Mr Wigglesworth.” His voice goes several pitches higher in excitement. “I lost him on holiday at Bognor Regis Butlins in 1989. I thought I'd never see him again!”

He holds the toy out in front of him once more to fully take it in and then shows it to Eve. He uses Mr Wigglesworth's arm to wave to Eve and then puts on a voice and talks to her through it. 

Nina laughs and joins in on Eve's behalf, she didn't want to question how George had gotten his long lost childhood toy back, deciding instead to simply enjoy the moment and bask in George's infectious joy.

Annie watches them for awhile before putting down her tea and finally opening her present. She carefully undoes the tape and peels the wrapping paper open without a single rip. She slides the contents out into her lap, finding a large, framed picture inside.

“It's a photograph... my mum and dad and my sister on Brighton pier. And a baby... ...my sister's had a baby!” She claps her hand to her mouth and then presses the photo frame tightly to her chest. “They've been trying for so long... I'm so pleased for them!” She looks at the photograph once more before putting it down on the little table next to the sofa where her mug of tea is sat. As soon as her hands are empty, she envelopes Mitchell in a tight hug. “I don't understand, how did you get hold of this?”

“That's not from me..”

She pulls away and looks around, George and Nina both shake their heads.

“It's not from us either.”

“Then who?”

Outside, a figure watches them through a glass panel in the door, completely unseen. Satisfied with a job well done, the figure pulls the bright yellow shawl tighter around her shoulders and turns away from the door. As she walks further down the corridor away from them, she slowly disappears.

Chapter Text

Inside the Café on the Corner the radio blares out Christmas songs. Hal finishes hanging the last of dozens of intricately cut paper snowflakes in front of the steamed up windows. Tom had set him the task of making the decorations after they'd run out of jobs to do in the empty café, even the few regular customers they had seemed to have been put off by the ice cold welsh rain sheeting it down outside.

Behind the counter, Tom squirts two pumps worth of syrup labelled gingerbread into the bottom of a cup, then moves to the coffee machine. He tampers down one shot's worth of ground coffee and locks it into the machine; as the machine whirs into life he holds a metal jug filled with an inch of milk under the steam wand. He aerates the milk for just a few seconds, then pulls the jug further up the wand to heat the milk right through.

Hal walks over to investigate what Tom is up to, eyeing the syrup with suspicion. He watches as Tom pours the freshly brewed shot of coffee over the syrup in the cup, followed by the hot milk.  He stops pouring the milk in an inch short of the rim and then squirts a swirl of cream on top; finally he finishes it all off with a sprinkling of cinnamon.

Hal stands staring at the drink aghast. “What on earth is that?”

Tom looks at his creation with pride. “It's a gingerbread latte, Tony wants us to compete with the big chains.”

Hal's nostrils flare, he wasn't a fan of anything overly sweet at the best of times and this felt like an assault on his senses.

“It's pure sugar!" 

“It's not that bad.”

“How could anybody drink this?”

“It tastes quite nice with all the cream and the syrup, you can't really taste the coffee at all. Though to be fair, that might be why I liked it.”

“There is enough caffeine in that to wake the dead.”

“You'd know all 'bout that.” Tom laughs and Hal gives him an incredulous look. Tom ignores him. "He wants us to sell eggnog lattes and peppermint hot chocolate as well. Apparently, this will give us an edge against the other cafés on the high street.” He was clearly pleased with himself for remembering the exact words their boss had used. "I reckon it's good for us to have a practice before any customers come in and order one, save us panicking like.” Not that he ever felt particularly panicked serving customers, but he didn't want Hal to know that this was for his benefit alone. “Here, you can give me an 'and."

“Eggnog?" Hal shakes his head in disbelief, what was the world coming to these days? "I suppose the Americans are to blame for this.” It was always the Americans that came up with such stupid ideas.

Tom shrugs and passes him a carton, Hals mood always seemed to improve when he had something to keep him busy.

“Probably. Just treat it like milk.”

Hal sighs and pours the eggnog into a clean, metal jug before popping it under the steam wand just as Tom had with the milk. Before long a loud high pitched scream emits from the jug. Tom claps his hands over his ears and Hal immediately stops the machine, clearly alarmed.

“That can't be right...”

“I think it is, it did that to me earlier. I probably shudda warned ya." 

"That might have been an idea." Hal breathes a sigh of relief and starts the machine back up. He assembles what he assumes to be the mysterious eggnog latte and gives it an experimental sniff. He very quickly decides against tasting it.  “Why would anybody drink this?... it smells vile!”

“Dunno mate. Because it's Christmas? I'd prefer a nice plain cup of tea me-self.”

“As would I, Tom. As would I."

Chapter Text

The Christmas lights twinkled on the tree and around the top of the bar. Tom had done his very best to decorate the house just as Annie would've wanted, he'd even lit the fire.

Tom and Hal sat on opposite ends of the sofa. On the coffee table there was a huge bowl of popcorn, a packet of party rings, mince pies and a tin of Quality Street chocolates. Alex looked at it with envy before turning her attention to the DVD shelves, it was her turn to choose. Movie night had become a regular thing whenever Tom and Hal both had shifts off at the same time. Although they had decided to limit the number of times Hal got to choose which film they watched, after being subjected to one too many musicals.

She tilted her head to the side to read the titles. The collection was varied, most of which she assumed belonged to the previous occupants, aside from the knock-off DVDs Tom had bought but they'd already made their way through most of those. After all, they'd had to educate Hal on who Robert Downey Jr was.

Alex breezed past The Lord of the Rings trilogy extended edition, they were on her list to introduce Hal and Tom to after they'd watched Tom's pirate copy of The Hobbit but tonight required something a little more festive.

She skipped past Casablanca, Gone with the Wind and Bringing up Baby, Hal had already forced them to watch those.

Avatar, City of Bones, Alien, The Thing... that hadn't gone down well with either of them. She'd made a note to avoid anything with too much gore, especially when there were wolves involved.

“Haven't ya found one yet?”

“Give us a chance!”

She uses her finger to help with browsing the titles. Fast Girls, the complete Friends boxset, the Buffy and Angel boxsets... they were definitely going to watch those one day, if only to see Hal's reaction. Maybe if they had to tie him to the chair again...

She pauses after Bridget Jones' Diary, taking out the box next to it. She turns around to Hal and Tom.

“What about Love Actually?”

Hal shudders and Tom shakes his head.

“Annie made us watch that last year.”

“She rewound the scene where Colin Firth jumps into the lake after his manuscript 6 times.”

“Seriously?”

“I think she might 'ave had a crush on him.”

“Indeed. I didn't mind the scene with Hugh Grant dancing around Downing Street, but the rest of the film... left something to be desired.”

“Yeah, especially that couple that were prentendin' to have sex. What must her mother think?”

Alex looks back and forth between them, trying to make sense of the information she's just been given.

“...Okay, that's a no then.”

She returns to the task and pulls out a film titled Joyeux Noel, thinking it sounds suitably festive; however she quickly puts it back after reading the synopsis. Trench warfare didn't sound like a recipe for a happy Christmas film. And none of them needed a reminder of what Hal was doing in France during world war one, either.

She pulls out Elf, The Grinch and Nativity, all good contenders but not quite what she's in the mood for right now. She takes them off the shelf and puts them to one side, there'll be plenty of time to watch those over the next few weeks.

Harry Potter, The History Boys, ah perfect... Home Alone. She holds the box up for them to see.

“Have you guys ever seen this?

“What's it about? Tom asks with a mouth full of mince pie. Evidently he'd given up on waiting until after she'd chosen the film.

“It's about this kid and he's home alone.”

“Very helpful, Alex.”

She gives him an innocent smile.

“I'm gonna put it on.”

Alex pops the disc into the DVD player and sits down on the sofa between the two boys. She feels a wave of pure contentment wash over her, watching a favourite childhood film with her friends, a roaring fire and the fairy-lights flashing away in the background.

That is until Hal picks her feet up off of the coffee table and sets them down on the floor with a glare. Even if he wasn't going to eat any of Tom's sugary snacks, he still did not believe in feet on the table. Alex groans and there's a part of her that feels tempted to stick her tongue out at him as the familiar music blasts out of the TV.

As Tom watches, he tries to work out which of the tricks and contraptions he could use in the vampire hunting that he is very definitely, 100% not still engaging in as far as his friends know. And despite chide comments from Hal throughout the film, his eyes stayed glued to the screen. Alex considers it a choice well made.

Chapter Text

There was incessant knocking at the door. Hal cursed as he went down to answer it, now he was going to miss the end of You and Yours. Sometimes Hal found himself longing for the peace and quiet of the Southend barber shop so much it was a physical ache.

They’d had to ban Alex from answering the door as the house was starting to get a reputation. The sheer volume of mysterious deaths, disappearances, and visits by police had not gone unnoticed by the neighbours; the door opening by itself only encouraged the local teenagers to play knock door run even more frequently. If they didn’t stop soon, Hal had a good mind to set Rook and his Men In Grey on them. He didn’t trust himself to resolve the situation without resorting to something he might regret and Rook did owe him more than a few favours. Upon seeing the silhouette of a teenage boy, Hal finds his rage grows, until he hears an unmistakable voice.

“Hurry up! It’s freezing out ‘ere.”

Hal closes his eyes, takes a depth breath and counts to ten, not in anger but to calm the sense of dread. The hammering continues.

“Hal! Tom! Annie! Let us in! I’m freezing my bollocks off!” It was swiftly followed by a stern “Adam” and a cry of ouch.

Alex Rent-A-Ghosts down from the attic, having heard the commotion from the top of the house.

“Charming.”

He gives her a look that conveys “you’ve heard nothing yet” and opens the door with a tight smile.

“Adam, Yvonne, please come in.”

Hal stands back and puts as much distance as he can between himself and Yvonne in the tight hallway. Yvonne takes in the décor as they make their way into the living room.

“Goodness gracious, it's like a grotto in here. How cheery.” She smiles awkwardly at both Hal and Alex in turn. Adam gets straight to the point.

“Where’s Tom, Annie and the baby?”

“Tom is at work...” Hal pauses and Alex steps in, she knew how much Eve had meant to both Tom and Hal, even if Hal didn’t talk about it.

“...Annie and Eve both passed over.”

“Oh, how tragic. I’m so sorry.”

Hal nods his acknowledgement in Yvonne’s direction, not quite trusting his voice.

“Man, that’s...” Adam shakes his head and looks at the floor, until his attention is caught by something else. “...who are you?”

“I’m Alex. I live here with Hal and Tom.” She looks alternately at both Adam and Yvonne, feeling more awkward than she usually would on a first meeting, the stories she’d heard about them weren’t very complimentary. “I’m dead.” She shrugs and puts on a laugh, which falls flat after the earlier revelation.

“Oh, OH are you two...” Adam mimes something with his fingers that could only be interpreted one way. Yvonne snaps at him.

“Adam!”

“With him?” Alex points at Hal and lets out another slightly hysterical giggle. “No, I, we. No. We’re just friends.”

“You and Tom then? You’re hungry for the wolf.” Alex pulls an expression like she's about to vomit.

“He’s like a brother to me!”

Adam turns to Hal, who's situated himself behind the bar with his arms firmly folded. The sooner they left, the better in his opinion.

“She’s way out of your league anyway mate. Even if you are an Old One, if that’s even a real thing.” He misses Hal's eye roll as he turns back to Alex.

“If I wasn’t married to this fine lady right here, I’d let you sample my legendary swordsmanship.”

Alex looks back and forth between Adam and Yvonne.

“You two are married?”

Yvonne jumps in then, holding her gloved hands over her chest and looking Adam with the fondness of a love-sick puppy.

“Gretna Green, it was very romantic. It’s our first Christmas together as a married couple.”

Hal clears his throat.

“So, what exactly brings you to Barry?”

“Adam wanted to pay his respects before the holidays.” Yvonne squeezes his hand as he once again casts his eyes down to the floor. “We’re so sorry to barge in on you like this unannounced, but our accommodation fell through. Something to do with a gas leak at the hotel.” Hal and Alex share a look, three guesses which hotel they’d booked. “And well, we wondered if you may be able to put us up? It would only be for one night.”

Alex stays quiet, it wasn't like they didn't have room for them to stay but she knew there'd been trouble before. And Hal would be unbearably grumpy if she said yes when he didn't want her to.

“I... should check with Tom, first.” He wouldn't normally wait for Tom's agreement to make a decision but it was as good an excuse as any. Besides, he was sure Tom would agree with him after last time.

“Oh come on, you can't tell us there's no room at the Inn. It's Christmas!”

“I suppose, if it's only one night...” Alex starts, Hal glares daggers at her.

“Thank you, dear.” Yvonne looks at her gratefully, accepting that as an invitation. “I promise I’ll stay in my room for the whole night. You won't know I'm here!”

“Yeah, I’ll give ‘er something to keep her occupied. All night long.” Adam thrusts his groin in case anyone didn't get his meaning.

“Adam darling, help me get the luggage out of the car.”

Alex watches as they make their way out of the living room.

“Great. That's... great.” she avoids looking in Hal's direction. It was going to be an extremely long weekend. And one of them still had to break the news to Tom.

Chapter Text

The Santa Clause plays quietly on the TV and Alex sits watching it with her feet up on the coffee table, much to Hal’s annoyance. Hal sits next her, engrossed in his latest needlework project; exactly what he was making, he’d refused to tell them. Alex had given up asking. Tom was fast asleep in the armchair next to the fireplace, the previous night’s full moon having taken it out of him. Hal tried not to let the drooling, the soft snoring, or the strong smell distract him.

After awhile Alex breaks the silence.

“I can’t believe I used to believe in this stuff when I was a kid.”

“Believe in what?”

“Father Christmas and his little elves.” Alex looks away from the TV and Hal looks up from his work.

“Elves are real .”

“Pish.”

Hal puts down his embroidery hoop. 

“Alex. Why would I lie to you about something like this?”

Alex crosses her arms. 

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m over 500 years old, believe me when I say that the fey are very real and rather malicious creatures.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Hal raises an eyebrow.

“Says the ghost to the vampire.”

“Well, Why don’t we know about them then?”

“Would you have believed someone if they told you vampires, werewolves, and ghosts were real a year ago?”

“I get your point... but tiny wee elves and fairies? Come off it.”

“Have you ever been to Iceland?”

“No, I never had the pleasure. I would’ve loved to have gone to Reykjavik though. And to have seen the Northern Lights.” She makes a mental note to add ‘visit Iceland’ to her Kicked The Bucket list.

“It’s a truly beautiful place...”

Tom snores loudly, snapping them both out of their daydreams of Iceland.

“...Anyway, they pay their elves or álfar and Huldufólk, that’s hidden people.” Hal pauses to check she’s still following. “a huge amount of respect. It’s customary to completely clean the entire house before Christmas and to leave food out for them, otherwise they invade and hold wild parties.”

“Wild house-parting elves? I like their style. Still sounds like a load of rubbish.”

“What about Ireland? They’ve had to divert entire roads because of sabotage by fairies.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true. There are extremely serious consequences for disturbing a sacred place of the aos sí such as a particular tree or mound of earth.”

“So... the council plans around fairies?”

“Precisely. And surely you’ve heard of Trows and the Seelie and Unseelie. Scotland has a rich and diverse fey culture.”

“There’s no such thing as Trows.”

“The fey folk exist. Go and ask Rook if you don’t believe me. I bet his department have records of them.”

“This is insane.”

“The world is a strange place.”

“First it’s zombies and demons and succubi, now you’re telling me fairies are real. It’s completely mental .”

Alex shakes her head, finding her entire world view changed once again. Hal presses his lips together tightly but a titter escapes, soon it grows into a full blown laugh.

“Alex. I’m pulling your leg.”

She smacks his arm. “You are such an arsehole!”

His laughing only grows louder. “I can’t believe you fell for that!”

“Oh. Now he finds his sense of humour. Dick.” Alex turns away from him, although her name calling is all in good nature.

Tom blinks and stretches, woken by Hal’s laughter and Alex’s swearing.

“What’s up with you two?”

What he gets in response is a chorus of “Nothing!” Hal however, can’t wait to tell him all about it when they’re alone. Or maybe, he won’t tell him and he’ll try the same trick twice...

Chapter Text

Southend-on-sea

Leo finishes sweeping the floor after a long day at the barber shop. He'd already built up a good reputation with the locals in the few months since taking up the lease. He was determined to pay back the money he'd borrowed as quickly as possible, so he'd been working all hours. It's only as he turns the sign around to Sorry We're Closed that he notices the flurry of white flakes falling from the sky. He locks up the shop and despite his tired feet, runs up the stairs to the flat in excitement.

“It's snowing!”

Pearl looks up from her copy of Woman and Home.

“Have you finished down there?”

Leo goes straight to the window, pressing his hands and face to the glass.

“Yes, it's all locked up for the night. Mr. Jones was reluctant to leave. I think he would've stayed chatting all evening if his wife hadn't come to fetch him.” Leo chuckles softly as he turns away from the window. “I can't say I blame him for avoiding her, she's a very... stern lady.”

Pearl places a slip of paper between the magazine pages, bookmarking a recipe for tropical tinned pineapple trifle, before standing.

“I'll make us a pot of tea.”

“Oh, wonderful. Thank you Pearl.”

She returns his smile and makes her way into the kitchen.

As soon as she leaves, Leo rushes into his bedroom and rummages in the cupboard, he had just the thing for this weather.

Pearl comes back to find the living room empty, placing the tray down on the coffee table. She pours milk into one cup and a dash of water into the other, then she pours in the tea, she drops a sugar cube into the first cup and then stirs. She prided herself on making a proper strong brew, as any northern girl should. She sets the pot back down on the tray and covers it with a knitted tea cosy in brightly coloured stripes. Finally, she picks up the black tea and knocks on the door of the small second bedroom.

“Hal? Am I okay to come in? There's a tea here for you.”

There's no response, which she takes as an invitation to enter. Pearl closes her eyes and re-materialises on the other side of the locked door. The room is dimly lit by a single bulb, a narrow bed runs across one wall with a small table next to it. Hal is sat on the windowsill with his legs hugged tightly to his chest, there's a book balanced on his knees although he doesn't appear to be reading it. The window itself is covered over with newspaper and thick cardboard.

“Did I hear Leo say it's snowing?”

“Yes. I don't think I've ever seen him so excited.”

“That would explain the drop in temperature.”

Hal drums his fingers against his leg. Pearl hovers awkwardly, never quite sure what to say to him. It had almost been easier when he'd been hurling abuse at them, at least she was used to that.

“We've got a leg of lamb tonight, if you're planning on eating.”

He nods but doesn't respond further. She sets the teacup and saucer down on the night stand.

“...I'll leave you to it.”

Pearl reappears in the living room, finding Leo sat down sipping his tea.

“How was he?”

“Still moping.” Pearl puts her hands on her hips in a manner that reminds Leo far too much of Mrs. Jones.

“I'm sure he'll come around, given time.” If there was one thing he'd learnt about Hal over the best part of the past year, it was how stubborn he was. He was sure that this self imposed exile would end soon and didn't want to push the matter.

“I've been trying to encourage him to come out and join us, even if only for an hour or two. But he says he isn't ready.”

“We must take it one step at a time, Pearl, it's better than him being in the chair.”

“I wish he'd let me get near the window. Let some light and air into the room, it can't be helping.”

“He told me it was too dangerous for him to see the people on the street.”

“I think he's being over dramatic.” Leo can't argue with her there. Pearl folds her arms and for the first time notices the object in Leo's lap.

“What on earth are those?”

“They're ice skates.”

“I know that, what are you doing with them?”

“I picked them up from the junk shop down the road. With the cold weather I thought we...I thought that I could go skating this weekend. I've always wanted to learn.”

“You're going ice skating?”

“Yes.”

“And you've never skated before?”

“I never had the opportunity.”

“Well I'm going to have come with you to make sure you don't break a leg or worse.”

“It would be a pleasure.” Leo grins broadly and finishes his tea. An afternoon of falling over on the ice, away from work and vampire drama, with the girl that he admired might be just what he needed.

Chapter Text

The woods are eerily silent as the snow continues to fall heavily, several inches already settled on the ground.  An icy wind makes its way through the gaps around the metal door and Rook pulls his grey coat tighter around himself as he makes his way up the steps. When he gets to the top, he finds that the door won’t budge. He presses the electronic release with an increasing amount of force, then tries rattling the door itself. Eventually in one last ditch attempt, he tries ramming the door with his shoulder. Still to no avail. He clutches his shoulder, grimacing in pain and makes his way back down the winding stairs.

Arthur looks up from the shelves when the door swings open, revealing a clearly flustered and slightly red-faced Rook.

“Mr. Rook, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon!”

Dominic sighs.  “I wasn’t expecting to be back, Arthur. It would appear that we’re... snowed in.”

“Snowed in? Why, I think the last time that happened was 1992.” Arthur places his clipboard down on his trolley and gives Dominic his full attention. “How exciting.”

“Exciting isn’t the word I’d use.”  He winces and grips his shoulder. Arthur frowns.

“Are you alright sir?”

He smiles through the pain. “I’m fine, Arthur. I must have pulled it whilst I was exercising.”

Arthur remains sceptical; it’s the first time he’s ever heard mention of Dominic Rook doing exercise in all the years he’s know him, and that was most of the younger man’s life. But he decides against prying any further. Dominic was a private man and if he wanted to talk, he would. Arthur changes the subject instead. 

“Did you have plans for this evening?” It seemed like a safe question and Dominic did seem to be genuinely upset about not being able to leave.

“Well, I... no.” He felt embarrassed to admit how little he had going on outside of work. “I was going to grab dinner, do some paperwork on my laptop and then go to bed.”

Arthur of course passes no judgement.

“There’s no reason you can’t do that here, sir. There’s plenty of food in the freezer. We can make a night of it.”

Dominic wasn’t convinced.

“Don’t you want to get home, Arthur? What about your wife and the girls?”

Arthur chuckles.  “She’ll be alright without me for a night. And I’ll see the girls and the grandkids over the holidays. You make it sound like we’re going to be trapped for weeks.”

“... Who knows how long we’ll be stuck with this weather.” He sucks his teeth, the whole situation made him feel uneasy. Arthur does his best to reassure him.

“It’ll be fine, sir. And if we do, I’m sure Bobby will be glad of the company.”

“Goodness, yes. Bobby.” The thought hadn’t even come into his mind. “I  hope we have enough supplies to last...” Dominic shakes his head, trying to think of everything he’ll need to coordinate if they’re going to be trapped together for a prolonged amount of time.

“You get yourself settled and I’ll make us both a cup of tea.”  Arthur smiles softly and heads towards the staff room kitchen.

Dominic goes to his desk, places his bag down, removes his coat and takes a seat.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t spent a night at the Archive before, in fact it was quite a regular occurrence, it was the unplanned nature of it that sent him off kilter. He liked order.  Categorisation, set scenarios with plans that everyone could follow, it was a way to bring organisation to the chaotic unpredictability of the preternatural.  It seemed that Mother Nature was just another preternatural creature desperate to wreak havoc upon his life.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when Arthur sets down a steaming hot mug of tea down in front of him, followed swiftly by a plate containing a microwave ready-meal.

“You look like you could do with it.”

“Thank you, Arthur. You didn’t have to.” His gratitude is genuine and he wolfs down several mouthfuls of microwaved pasta in quick succession, burning his mouth in the process.

It’s moments like these that remind Arthur of the little boy that used to visit the Archive full of questions and excitement; before that boy grew into the all too often cold and distant man sat in front of him. Perhaps he wasn’t yet beyond help. 

“I was thinking..” Arthur hesitates unsure if he’s overstepping an invisible Mark. “I hope I’m not being presumptuous but, why don’t you come to ours for Christmas dinner? The more the merrier, after all.”

Dominic blinks and sets down his cutlery.

“I...don’t know what to say.” He collects himself and carefully schools his face back into his usual, neutral expression. “I appreciate the gesture but... it’s time you should be spending with your family. And someone should stay with Bobby.”

“You’re going to spend Christmas Day here, with Bobby?”

“Indeed. Last year we had a Chinese takeaway, watched the Queen’s Speech and played a game of Guess Who. It was... quite a nice day, actually. Who knows what thrilling activities we’ll get up to this year.”

And if Arthur was shocked by the revelation, he doesn’t let it show.

“I’m sure he enjoyed it immensely. The invitation still stands, if you have a change of heart.”

“Thanks again, Arthur. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” He raises his tea mug in a gesture of cheers before he takes a much needed swig. When he sets the mug back down, it’s back to business. That was enough emotion for one day.

Chapter Text

Annie can barely contain her excitement as she passes neatly wrapped parcels to Mitchell, George, and Nina.

“I want you to open them at the same time.”

They look at each other as they open the presents, apprehensive about what Annie has in store for them.

“Surprise!”

Mitchell pulls out a black jumper with lots of ladders and one sleeve almost twice as long as the other. His face goes on quite a journey as he takes it all in.

“...Wow.”

Nina opens an extremely fluffy purple and pink striped number with a neck hole so big she could probably wear it on a full moon. She does her best not to let her true feelings show, knowing how much this must mean to Annie.

“It’s...lovely.”

“Did, did you make these?” George adjusts his glasses to inspect his jumper, which is lumpy, green and large enough to fit both him and Nina into it, maybe even Mitchell too...

Nina smiles through gritted teeth. “I never knew you could knit...”

“Well, I couldn’t but you know how I can’t sleep and so, I taught myself!” She pulls a move akin to jazz hands.

“That’s...so... clever.” Mitchell shakes his head, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Do you like them?” Doubt starting to creep in to Annie’s voice.

“Like them?” George’s voice gets higher and higher. “Haha. We love them!” He punches the air. Nina feels embarrassed on his behalf.

Annie grins brightly, her worries averted. “Try them on!”

Not wanting to upset Annie, they wriggle into them as best as they can. Aside from the one long rolled-up sleeve, Mitchell’s jumper doesn’t look too bad. In fact, during his 1970s punk era, it would’ve fitted right in with the rest of his wardrobe. George on the other hand, was swamped by his. It hung from his frame and came down to his knees. Nina’s was even worse. The neck hole came down to her navel and the sleeves were almost dragging along the floor.  Still, at least nobody else would ever see them dressed like this.

“You look great!” Annie claps her hands together. “Oh, I wish I could get a photo of you all!”

“Yes, it’s such a shame. Isn’t it?” George’s smile is almost a grimace. Thank goodness Mitchell didn’t show up on film and they would be spared further embarrassment.

Annie however, has other plans. She pulls out a camera.

“George, you and Nina go and stand by the tree.”

George curses internally for thinking they were safe. Nina catches his eye as they shuffle towards the tree, her line of thought very much the same.

Mitchell feels extremely smug as he watches from the side.

And as she is taking the photo, Annie is struck with a brilliant idea. Next year she was going to learn how to paint. Then they could all be included.

Chapter Text

December 2009

Annie pulls the wide collar of her cardigan up over her head like a hood and pulls the rest of the cardigan tighter around her body. It wasn't so much that she felt the cold, it was more of an automatic response to the icy drizzle around her. She leans closer to Gilbert as they make their way through the streets of Bristol, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

“You aren't really going to sabotage the Christmas light switch on, are you?

“I'd very much like to. But... I won't if you don't want me to.”

“Good.” She sighs deeply “It's just, there's not much joy left in this world, at least we can still have this.”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Hey, what's got you so down?”

“Let's think.. I'm dead. My fiancé killed me in case you had forgotten. And to top it all off, Mitchell and George don't even want to celebrate Christmas.”

“Vampires don't really religious holidays though, do they?” Gilbert lights his cigarette. “...And isn't George Jewish?”

“Yeah, but that's not the point. I just want something nice for a change. I want a proper Christmas with presents and a tree and I want the house to feel like a home.”

Gilbert takes a drag of the cigarette, as the packet had been on him when he died, it was impossible to empty.

“Have you told them how important this is to you?”

“...Not in as many words.”

“Maybe you should. You deserve to have something good.”

Gilbert starts walking again and Annie has to nearly run to catch up.

“You'll come round won't you? For Christmas?”

“If it's okay with your two dads.”

“Ugh. I don't know what's gotten into him lately.” She puts on a voice. “'Don't say out too late.' 'Make sure you're back in time for the Real Hustle.' It's not even that great.”

Gilbert is fairly sure he can guess exactly what the issue is.

“He cares about you, that's all. I care about you. We all care about you.”

“Aww. You don't have to say that, you know.”

“You're a very special woman, Annie. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Annie blushes and looks away.

They turn the corner and come to a large square that's crowded with people, all wrapped up in hats and scarves. There's music blasting out and people are singing and swaying, trying to keep their kids entertained whilst they wait in the cold. Annie and Gilbert move through the crowd, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. Touching the living and being reminded they aren't solid is not a pleasant experience.

As they make their way towards the stage that has been set up for the event, Annie stops in her tracks.

“Oh my God.”

“What is it?”

Standing on the stage is the Mayor of Bristol, a school choir, and a vaguely familiar looking pear-shaped pink creature with huge eyes and yellow spots.

“Mr. Blobby is switching on the lights.”

“Who's that?”

“The pink one in the bow-tie. He used to be on TV in the nineties with Noel Edmunds. He terrified me when I was a kid.”

On the stage there's a demonic cry of “Blobby Blobby Blobby” As the creature runs towards the choir of primary school children who look as if they're about to burst into tears.

“... I can see why.” Gilbert sticks his hands in his pockets. “Is that supposed to be entertainment?”

“Um hum.”

Around them the crowd begin chanting a countdown of 10..9..8.. as the creature on stage claps in time with them, hovering over a big red button. Annie tries to ignore the antics on stage and concentrate on enjoying the moment, the company and letting herself get lost in the excitement of the crowd. She joins in as the crowd chant 5..4..3..2..1... There's a flash of bright light on stage and then everything goes black.

“Gilbert! How could you, you promised.” She clips his arm.

Gilbert looks at her with an expression that could be described as awe.

“...That wasn't me. I think that was you.”

Annie freezes in shock. The lights eventually come back on, illuminating a member of the St. Johns Ambulance rushing onto the stage, where Mr. Blobby is lying flat on his back. 

“Oh my God" Annie claps her hands over her mouth "....I electrocuted Mr. Blobby.”

Chapter Text

Southend-on-Sea

Christmas day 1975

Pearl brings out yet another plate of food and Hal dies a little more inside, which is a feat seeing as he's been dead for four-hundred and sixty-one years. He looks pleadingly at Leo, who quickly shakes his head when he's sure Pearl isn't looking.

Dinner had started off quite promisingly, with prawn cocktails in their best glassware. Prawns in Marie-rose sauce sat atop iceberg lettuce, buttered white bread cut into triangles with the crusts removed and a lemon wedge on the side. They looked quite fancy, compared to Pearl's usual cooking. Although she had gone a little heavy on the paprika, which unfortunately, always reminded Hal of his time spent in Budapest.

It had only gone down hill from there. Out came plate after platter after bowl of assorted meats, vegetables and gravy; each increasingly elaborate with combinations that seemed to have been dreamt up by someone who had never had the displeasure of eating them.

Even Leo couldn't help but long instead for one of Pearls normal Sunday roasts; usually overcooked and dry meat drowned in thick gravy alongside the most perfectly cooked Yorkshire puddings. He blamed her new found obsession with the television.

“She's been watching that Fanny Craddock.”

Hal sets down his cutlery. He hadn't really enjoyed eating human food since the French Revolution and chewing through the turkey was quite the task. He swallows with a grimace and his tone is grave when he replies.

“Never trust a woman called Fanny. I've had some... bad experiences with them in the past.”

He doesn't get the chance to elaborate as Pearl interrupts them, carrying in a bowl of something bright green and piped to vaguely resemble a Christmas tree. Leo and Hal scrabble to load up their forks with more food and look as though they were still busy eating.

“Everything okay?”

“Your cooking is as wonderful as ever, Pearl.”

Leo gives her a big smile and Hal plasters on a smile that he thinks looks sincere enough. It's soon wiped away when he notices the latest dish of food. He eyes it cautiously and hopes that they've finally gotten to the desserts.

“What on Earth is that?”

“It's mashed potato.”

That was not the answer he was expecting. Just when he'd thought things couldn't possibly get worse.

“But why is it green?”

“It's very trendy.”

“Why would anybody want fashionable potatoes?”

“Either eat it or don't. I don't know why I bother sometimes.” Pearl snaps at him and whacks the tea-towel she'd been holding the bowl with against her dress in a huff. The light above the table flickers every so slightly.

Leo gives Hal an apologetic look and they both apprehensively dish green mashed potato out onto their plates.

After taking some time to calm down and grumble to herself about ungrateful bloody vampires, Pearl does start bringing out the desserts. First out is a thankfully, ordinary looking Christmas pudding. Both Hal and Leo breathe a sigh of relief. Next there's cake and trifle, if they weren't already well past the point of being full, they wouldn't complain about either of those.

Lastly however out comes something that could only be described as phallic. It was comprised of a banana standing to attention, stuck inside a pineapple ring, with a swirl of whipped cream on the tip of the banana and a cherry to top it all off. It's enough to make Leo blush and even Hal finds himself at a loss for words. Pearl sets the plate down on the table between them with a thump.

“It's a banana candle. They're all the rage. Eat up.”

Her tone carried more of a threat than Hal could muster up in his darkest of cycles and it was a risk that neither Leo nor Hal were willing to take. They raise their spoons and begin to eat.