NOTE: I do not own RENT nor do I own 'A Christmas Carol'. I've also never read the actual book; going by movies, specifically A Muppet's Christmas Carol, as that is my favorite version. :-) I know this is probably over done, but I just had a burst of inspiration; the pairings are a little different, but I like them. Just give it a shot. Please comment with feedback, lemme know what you think. My first rent-fic in a looooong time. Thanks!

Gray was dead; to begin with. Died of a heart attack two years prior. Right around Christmas, if Benjamin was remembering correctly. He'd inherited the entire company, left in charge to run the place, and had only lost a quarter of the money in the divorce. He hated to see it go but if it shut her up, he was better off. He'd more than made up for it in a year and he was better off alone anyway. He didn't have to worry about her wasting it on frivolous things, like a fertility specialist, doctor bills, travel expenses… Yes, he was quite content with his place in life, owning all of the apartment complexes in Alphabet City, collecting rent from the miserable creatures who dared live there. But where else where they to go?

A solemn daze settled over his features as he allowed himself to get lost in thought, daydreaming about his next project, wondering just how expensive that plan would be. His elbows dug into the desk in front of him, a bottle of whiskey unopened beside a clean shot glass, his paperwork sprawled over the desk as the only noise in the damp, dark building was the crackling of a meager fire, and the clicking of keys from the typewriter. The phones had been rather quiet, which only left the man more time to think, lips pursed as he stared ahead.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Coffin, sir?"

The timid voice jarred Benny from his thoughts and he turned quickly, brown eyes taking a moment to adjust in the poor lighting. There, in the doorway, stood a very pale, very thin shell of a man he used to know. It was strange to see the man in a shirt and tie, even after the few years he'd been working here. The blue fabric appeared to be strangling him, too tight around his too thin neck, his thin trembling fingers playing with the end of it before shifting the thick spectacles upon the bridge of his crooked nose. He looked… so different and yet just the same, his mess of blonde hair sticking up this way and that, blue eyes crystal clear behind the scratched lenses. He didn't smile anymore, that was different. The years were beginning to show, earlier than they should've, but he was still the same.

"Cohen," Benny replied flatly, dropping his gaze back to the papers immediately as he shifted in his big leather chair.

"Sir, if you please, everyone is finished for the evening," he continued, his swallowing audible, voice shaking lightly. "We'll begin closing up shop if you like."

Fifteen minutes early. A rather annoyed look washed over his face as he swiveled his chair back and forth, knees hitting the legs of his desk gently. "Well, if you're certain everything is done… I expect to see you all the earlier tomorrow morning."

"But sir…" Mark began, blurting out without thinking. Well, now he had to finish. "Tomorrow… tomorrow's Christmas."

Was it, now? As if he didn't believe the blond, his eyes darted to the cheap wall calendar beside his desk and noticed that tomorrow was indeed a holiday. "Alright, take an hour off," he muttered, shrugging.

"Ben-- Mr. Coffin. That's hardly customary for Christmas," Mark argued, frowning. He knew his boss was cold, but had he really forgotten Christmas? Mark wasn't going to come in tomorrow, not when he'd been looking forward to a day off, finally able to spend a little extra time with everyone back at the loft. But he knew he couldn't lose this job. Not while he was the only one bringing steady income into the household.

"Well, just what is customary, Mr. Cohen? The entire day?" His thin eyebrows arched, tone accusatory as he leaned forward slightly, blazer scrunching up on his shoulders.

"Yes," Mark answered, his blue eyes lifting to meet the other pair, decidedly not backing down for the time being. "Every other company will be closed, you'll have no one to do business with."

Benny sighed softly, a tiny piece of his icy heart warming for a moment as he thought briefly of the Christmases spent with his now employee years ago, and he knew he couldn't be open tomorrow. "It's a poor excuse to rob a man's pocket, December the twenty fifth, but as I seem to be the only one to realize it…" he muttered, leaning back in his chair and shuffling his papers around. "Fine. Take the day off."

A rush of relief flooded through the thin blonde man as his boss agreed and he nodded his head. "Thank you." Mark turned quickly, intending to hurry out the door but was stopped by another figure in the doorway, this one much less intimidating than the one he'd previously faced.

"Mark!"

"Joanne!" he uttered, jaw dropping before he wound his arms around her rather quickly, pecking a kiss to her cheek. "What are you doing here?" he added softly, face screwing up with confusion.

"Just dropping by to check in on everything," she replied with a wink, ruffling his hair before peering around her friend to see Benny. "Coffin," she chirped, a big basket in her other hand. "Merry Christmas."

"Jefferson," he replied flatly, brow furrowed, obviously as confused as Mark appeared to be.

"The proper response would be 'Merry Christmas to you, too'," she informed him, doc martins scuffing along the floor as she set the basket on his desk with a loud thunk. Peering around her shoulder, Mark noted the contents were mostly bottles, alcohol tucked neatly into a red and green basket, a note attached. "From my company to yours."

Maureen's ex had continued to climb the corporate ladder at work and was currently the head of a law firm just uptown a ways. She'd stayed friends with the group after the split with Maureen, and was just as close if not closer with the diva as before. However, her career had always been important and so she visited on occasion and sent money when she could. Most of the time, she was busy trying to find a way to fire Benny's ass and Benny knew it.

"Christmas?" Benny asked with a slight scowl, nose wrinkled as he investigated the liquor. "Bah, humbug."

"Come on, Coffin, smile," she insisted with a slight smirk, her short curls framing her pretty face. "Looks like you haven't flexed your face muscles in years."

"I will smile the day you are run out of business," he muttered, shoving the basket aside. "Cohen, you may show Ms. Jefferson to the door."

"I can do that myself," Joanne interrupted, straightening up and backing toward Mark. "I'll see you in court two weeks from tomorrow, Sir."

Mark's jaw dropped slightly, almost unable to believe he'd just witnessed all of that and fumbled for something to say. But Benny beat him to it.

"Over my dead body," he grumbled, sulking in his chair as he started clearing off his desk.

"Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year," she smiled, bowing rather dramatically, pulling a 'Maureen', before hugging Mark tightly. "I'll try to make it over tomorrow, but we're supposed to go to Lucy's parents and then my parents… what time is dinner?"

"Whenever the Chinese food arrives," Mark chuckled, hugging her back. "Don't worry about it. Of course it'll be nice to see you, but if you're busy, we understand."

"I'll try," she repeated, kissing his cheek before stepping out the door. "God bless!"

"No wonder Maureen dated her. She's just as obnoxious," Benny grumbled, shaking his head. "Go close up and I expect you to be here on time the next day."

"Yes, sir," Mark mumbled before hurrying out the door, shutting it quickly. "What am I doing?" he uttered softly, running a hand back through his hair quickly before mustering up a smile to tell the workers tomorrow was a vacation. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing and for that, Mark could sleep easy tonight.