This is a tale of a someone who didn't like Christmas, but who changed their mind. It includes Christmases past, present and future. But it's not the tale of Scrooge - or of Snowfall Frost ...
It was 10th December. Soon, it would be 14th, the most horrible day of the year. Probably. MacGyver couldn't work out whether he found 14th December more unpleasant than Christmas itself. He had hoped he was over his grief: he remembered the experience he had had when his grandfather had died. He also recalled how readily everyone (except Pete and Jack) had dismissed his experiences as a hallucination.
Oh well. Loss was loss and he had to live with his losses.
Mac had been working very hard to ensure a great Christmas for other people. On this particular day, World Human Rights Day, he had been writing greetings cards to political prisoners across the world ... and planning how to rescue one of them early in the New Year.
He fell asleep quickly.
o-O-o
"Why so sad, sugar cube?" asked Applejack.
It was night. Applejack, Mac and a few other ponies were outside, wrapped in brightly coloured blankets. They were looking at shooting stars.
"Those ones aren't real meteors," said Applejack, pointing with a hoof at some particularly bright objects. "They're signals. My parents ascended to a higher plane soon after Apple Bloom was born. It's kind of complicated. It involves a whole lot of quantum physics that I don't understand at all. But they're only allowed to communicate with us this way. To reassure us that they're fine - and sometimes to convey other brief messages. Sometimes, they say hi from Grandpa Smith."
Another pair of shooting stars appeared, following the same trajectory that the previous pair had done.
"Those don't look the same as the other pair," said Twilight, whose new telescope was very strong.
"They're not," said Applejack. She looked sadly at Mac. "You too? And all four of your grandparents?"
"Yes."
"They're fine. They're all mighty proud of you. Trust me, I know exactly how to interpret these signs. I've had years of practice."
"It still hurts so much sometimes," Mac said.
"Yes. Yes, it does."
o-O-o
Mac woke up, in quite a lot of distress. He did not dream of his family often, but when he did, the acute sense of loss invariably remained with him for a few hours.
"Of course dream-Applejack thought my parents were proud of me," he reasoned. "She's merely a product of my own subconscious. It's not a real message from them. It's all my imagination."
"Am I too a product of your subconscious?" Mac recognised Luna's voice.
Bother! He was still dreaming, albeit in a lucid form.
"Of course you are."
Luna raised an eyebrow. "Am I? Or am I a force outside of your own consciousness, sent by the universe in order to help you learn lessons that you must learn in order to survive in the real world?"
"This is getting very complicated," Mac replied.
"I want to prove to you that I am real," insisted Luna. "I will take away your pain."
"Oddly, enough I'm not actually in pain," said Mac. The injuries sustained on his recent adventures had healed very well. But, to his surprise, he felt his acute sense of loss and grief swiftly dissolve ... and he woke up feeling happy and energised. Even the niggling pain in his left knee, which sometimes made itself known when he was getting up, was absent.
o-O-o
That day, 11th December, was spent distributing toys. Pete put a great deal of effort into persuading manufacturers to donate to the Phoenix Foundation, and there were many under-privileged children to whom to distribute them.
The night also brought dreams of Applejack. This time, she was accompanied by Pinkie, who was dressed in a somewhat eccentric manner.
"Madam Pinkie has agreed to read your fortune," announced Applejack.
Mac rolled his eyes. "Okay." He knew it was best to humour anyone with the initials PP.
Pinkie said, "This is a vision of a Hearth's Warming Past." She pushed her crystal ball towards Mac. "Only you will be able to see it." And he could: the final Christmas with his parents and grandparents. Such a beautifully sad memory.
"I loved them so much."
"Now I can show you a Hearth's Warming Future," said Pinkie.
"Huh? What about the present?"
"Time for presents later!" exclaimed Pinkie. And suddenly, Mac found himself hugging his parents and grandparents in turn. "We've invited a friend of yours for Christmas dinner," his mother said.
"Jack?" Mac started looking around.
"Sorry," said Pete. "Jack isn't quite ready to join us. Rather surprising, considering some of the scrapes he's found himself in. But no, his secret trip back to that magic spring worked wonders. He looks half his age now. And he's still busily pursuing his dream that Dalton Lunar will be taking people to the moon within the next 5 years. I hope you're not disappointed."
"Pete! Pete! Of course I'm not disappointed!"
"I see your taste in shirts is still ... interesting," said Pete.
"It's not technically pink," Mac was starting to say. Then he realised the implications of what Pete had said. "You can see!"
Pete chuckled. "Of course. Twenty-twenty vision restored."
"That's great!"
Much hugging followed, until Mac heard Pinkie say, "Come back." And Mac found himself gently drifting back to the room where he was sitting with Pinkie and Applejack.
"You're only allowed a little glimpse of the future," said Applejack. "Were your kinfolk pleased to see you?"
"Yes, very. It felt so real. So detailed. All the colours were so vibrant. I hugged them, they were solid. I could hear carols on the radio, in the background and smell the cooking."
"It is real," said Applejack. "It just hasn't happened yet."
"How about Hearths' Warming Present?" said Pinkie.
"I think we can provide a lot of presents," said Applejack. "But I think you understand that they're only memories. Not material things."
"I understand," said Mac.
"I thought you would, sugar cube."
"Now, how about a group hug?" said Pinkie.
"I love hugs!" said Mac.
o-O-o
Mac woke up feeling happier than he had done on any December day since his early childhood. Pete even caught him whistling.
"You're suspiciously cheerful," he said. "What's up?"
Mac contemplated saying, "I've been having interesting dreams related to a TV show featuring pastel-coloured ponies who talk."
He said, "I've been having interesting dreams."
"Say no more," said Pete. And then he winked. "Now, do you have time to help me sort out the Christmas lights? They're really tangled and some of them don't work."
"I'm not sure how I feel about Christmas lights," said Mac.
"These ones are the most eco-friendly ones in the entire world," said Pete. "The Phoenix Foundation has been working with inventors ..."
Of course it had. Even Mac found it hard to keep track of what the Foundation did. It seemed to change from week to week.
"Okay, Pete, let's have a look."
o-O-o
"It's time for you to meet Rarity," announced Applejack.
"What's she like?"
Applejack laughed. "Well, I used to think she was prissy and a bit superficial. But she's very kind and generous. And far more intelligent, brave and resourceful than I gave her credit for. She's kind of awesome, really. But don't be surprised if she tries fix your mane."
"Huh?" said Mac. "My mane is lovely."
Applejack had been correct. Rarity's first words on seeing Mac were, "Darling boy, what has happened to your coiffure?"
"It's very generous of you to do this," said Mac, as Rarity valiantly tried to persuade his hair lie flat against his head. "I think it's going to keep on doing its own thing, but I find this whole experience very soothing. I have a very pleasant tingling in my scalp."
Rarity eventually had to concede defeat. All her unicorn magic and hair styling equipment were no match for Mac's unruly mane. It seemed to be even more stubborn when he was in equine form than it was in his waking life.
"That's the best I can do. Now, come on, we don't want to be late."
"Late for what?"
"Darling boy, did I not tell you? Big Mac has had to drop out of the carol singing. Pinkie tells me that you're not familiar with our carols. Can you read music?"
"Yes ... I think."
"You think? Oh well, that will have to do. We're rather short on rehearsal time."
Rarity fastened a bow tie round Mac's neck.
"You look very smart," she said. "You should also wear a tux. In case it gets chilly."
"Is it likely to get chilly?" Mac asked.
"It might snow. So appropriate, but rather cold unless one is prepared. I know, darling boy. You can wear a Santa hat. It will keep your head warm and also hide whatever went wrong with your coiffure."
"I like my coiffure," said Mac. "But a Santa hat would be festive. Oooh, it's purple. I like that."
Mac could honestly not decide which he liked more - singing pony carols in the gentle snow or eating small, spicy fruit pies at Rarity's home afterwards. Rarity was an extremely attentive hostess and all the carol singers had an excellent time at what she called her little soirée.
And the following night's dream was equally enjoyable.
"We are trying to find homes for these adorable puppies," said Fluttershy.
"I want to take them all home with me," said Mac.
"I wish you could," said Fluttershy. "But you will have to just play with them whilst I show people round. Can you cope with that?"
"Huh?"
"Your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to play with puppies. Of course, this will be very tiring, so I will bring you drinks and snacks."
"Yes," said Mac. "Very, very tiring. But, anything for you, Mademoiselle Fluttershy."
Fluttershy blushed.
It was a great evening. Fluttershy found homes for all the puppies. And Princess Luna dropped by to say hi to him. "Don't forget your tent on your next adventure," she said. And winked. Mac wasn't quite sure what she meant.
o-O-o
Mac woke up thinking, "I want a puppy. But I can't have a puppy. I would have to leave the puppy for too long whilst I rescued people and dogs from bad guys." He sighed. Oh well, it was mission day. Time to get ready to rescue someone from something bad. He checked his pockets.
Chewing gum, paper clips, duct tape, cold capsules, Swiss Army knife, spare Swiss Army knife. Oh, and something in a small pocket he had forgotten about. Chocolate! But should he eat it or save it in case he would need it?
He had a sudden memory of Luna talking about tents. But he wasn't going camping. Oh well, maybe he should take a tent, just a small one, just in case.
The mission was successful. Two more people rescued. Who would have thought that he could turn tent poles and canvas into a hang-glider big enough for three people? Nobody, that's who, except Mac.
And Luna.
And possibly Kate Lafferty, the only person whose mind was a match for Mac's. (She had sent him a Christmas card. He was glad that she was doing so well, both in her career and her personal life. There was a strong possibility that she and her partner would be working with the Phoenix Foundation in the New Year.)
That night, he was too tired to dream. He woke up and gingerly moved his left knee, fully expecting it to be in some pain as a results of the previous day's exertions. Strangely, it felt fine.
o-O-o
The following night, Twilight came to him, asking for his help to find a stolen item.
"We think it was Burdoc, but we're not sure. And Pinkie insists on wearing a fake moustache."
"Seems like a great idea," said Mac, putting on a fake moustache. (Where had it come from?)
Twilight sighed. "Okay, Spike." And suddenly Spike, too was wearing a false moustache. "You all look ridiculous."
"Can't be helped," whispered Pinkie. "We all need to be disguised."
"You look ridiculous," said a well-decorated pine tree, with a strange English accent.
Mac jumped. "You have talking trees here?"
"Don't be absurd," said Twilight. "That's Burdoc."
Spike and Pinkie started laughing about how ridiculous it would be if trees could talk.
"Focus!" ordered Twilight. "Burdoc's getting away."
Indeed, Burdoc had shed the Christmas tree disguise. "He's getting away!" said Pinkie! "Quick! Jump on to this sledge."
Mac enjoyed sliding down hill on the sledge so much that he forgot to ask what Burdoc had (allegedly) stolen. Pinkie Pie then produced four skates, and she and Mac then pursued a mysterious villain-disguised-as-a-Christmas-wreath across a frozen lake until they were too tired to continue.
Mac then had had to zipline from the top of a decorated pine tree, crawl through a tunnel of mud and pursue a villain-disguised-as-a-giant-candy-cane. At this point, he thought it might be prudent to ask Twilight what Burdoc had done.
"He disguised himself as a test tube, broke into your laboratory in Canterlot and stole your recipe for non-alcoholic eggnog!"
"Is that all?" asked Mac.
"Isn't that enough?" asked Twilight, exasperated.
"That's right!" said a giant holly bush, in a posh English accent. "Now I shall reveal your secret formula to the entire world."
"Oh, is that all?" Mac was relieved. "To be honest, I'd be rather pleased if you did that. I want people to share it."
"Hippy do-gooder," hissed the holly bush, slinking away. "I'm going to burn your secret formula. I will burn it, MacGyver!"
"You fiend!" yelled Twilight at the holly bush, telekinetically pelting him with candy canes.
"I've got a copy of the formula," whispered Mac.
"I don't think Twilight heard you," whispered Pinkie. "Quick, let's just slip away."
"Why?" asked Mac.
"Do you want to build a snowpony?" sang Pinkie.
"I'd love to," said Mac.
o-O-o
"You really need to work up a proper appetite," said Rainbow Dash.
"Um, yes." Mac wondered: was she going to challenge him to an Iron Pony contest?
"Twilight's got a surprise for you."
"Even better."
"You have to promise not to fly too near to the sun," said Twilight.
Dash scowled. "It's winter."
"I promise," said Mac. "Oooh. Are you going to make me grow wings?"
"I can do that," said Twilight. "If you want."
"I want," said Mac. "Please."
And lo and behold, brown, feathery wings sprouted from Mac's equine shoulders.
"It might be a bit difficult for you, as a newbie," said Dash. "But don't worry. Twilight and I will be accompanying you on our little trip."
It was a strange feeling. Mac had experienced various types of movement which had something in common with flying: skating, skiing, gliding, diving and swimming had all provided him with a similar sense of freedom. But flying was better. Despite being a complete beginner, he felt graceful and powerful.
Ponyville was pretty at the best of times: Ponyville in the snow was stunningly beautiful.
"Worked up an appetite, yet?" asked Rainbow Dash.
"I suppose I feel a bit hungry," conceded Mac.
"You need to work up more of an appetite than that," said Dash. "There's going to be three different types of broccoli at the meal. How about I show you how to loop-the-loop?"
"I can do that?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Is there anything on the menu apart from broccoli?" Mac asked, thirty minutes later, feeling exhilerated and extremely hungry.
"Oh yes! So much more." Dash was almost drooling. "Sweet rolls and four types of potatoes and two types of gravy and bread sauce and sweetcorn and angel-mane pasta."
"We've been invited to Sweet Apple Acres, and the Apples have the Pie family visiting," said Twilight.
"So there will be a lot of apple-themed food and a lot of pies?"
"You would think so," said Twilight. "But no. The Apple family does love its apple-based cuisine, but the Pies are rock farmers."
"They. Eat. Rocks?"
"Yup. Rock candy. Rock cakes. And the Pie family loves its rock soup. This year, there's also going to be rock turtle soup."
"Rock turtle soup?" What would Fluttershy say? Surely she loved turtles and tortoises?
"Rocks with turtle beans, of course."
"Of course. Beans."
"You do like turtle beans, I hope," said Twilight. "They're my favourite part of six-layer bean dip."
"Mine too!" exclaimed Pinkie, floating past them in a hot air balloon.
"Pinkie, what are you doing out here?" asked Twilight.
"I've come to tell you that dinner will be ready in an hour. And we have to introduce Mac to nearly everyone, including the other Mac, and he has to make a doll."
"A doll?"
"To hang by the fire place. Don't worry, we can help you make it."
"I've had some practice making dolls," said Mac.
o-O-o
The day before Christmas Eve, Pete sent Mac a message. "Please report to the Foundation HQ tomorrow. At noon. Pack your bag - you'll be away from home for a couple of days. Don't worry, you won't need a tent this time. Pack lightly."
Mac did indeed pack lightly, but remembered to include a wrapped up Christmas jumper for Pete. At the last minute, he added some Christmas candles for Connie. He wasn't quite sure whether she and Pete were back together, but better to be prepared. Better add a couple of small boxes of chocolates, just in case Pete had other guests. And some eco-friendly pine-scented candles, just because he liked them.
He wondered whether to pack muscle rub gel for his knee. It hadn't been causing him any trouble since his "encounter" with Luna. Almost as if ... she were indeed a representative of powers that he could not understand.
He decided to pack the gel. In case Pete, or anyone else, wanted to use some.
o-O-o
"I have a surprise for you," said Pete, handing over a rectangular parcel.
"You found a copy of the cowboy movie that Jack taped over?"
"Erm, no. I could try and find one for your birthday? But I think you'll like this."
"I ... like surprises," Mac said, hesitantly.
This was a good surprise. Pete had tracked down nearly everyone whom Mac had rescued over the past few years and got them to record a message for him. There was even a chimpanzee signing in American Sign Language. Mac wasn't entirely sure he even remembered the chimpanzee.
"Thank you, Pete. I didn't get you anything special." He handed over the jumper.
"Thank you," said Pete. "It feels like a Christmas jumper."
"Um," said Mac. "It might be a Christmas jumper."
"I know this is a bit random," said Pete. "But, after months of not knowing what to get you, I got you a couple of vouchers. For Indian head massage. If you don't like the idea, I can get you something else whilst the shops are still open."
"That sounds very relaxing," said Mac. "Thank you."
"I assume you'll be coming home with me? Connie and I would love for you to stay with us over Christmas."
"I don't want to be a gooseberry."
"You won't! Connie's second cousin Patty and her family are coming over after Midnight Mass and they'll be staying until the 27th."
"That would be perfect, thank you."
The telephone rang.
Pete picked it up. "What? You're kidding? Unbelievable! We'll be right down."
"Somebody left a basket full of puppies! Right outside the back door to the building! With a note saying, 'Please look after these puppies! They are weaned, but I cannot afford to keep them. Don't try to find me to reunite me with the puppies, as I am moving to Darkest Peru with their mother.'"
"I wish I had a puppy," said Mac, as they were travelling to the ground floor by elevator. He hadn't intended to say anything, it had just slipped out. "I love working for the Phoenix Foundation, but having to go away so much means I can't have a puppy."
"Why didn't you say so before?" exclaimed Pete. "We can pay someone to puppy-sit whilst you are away!"
"No, I can't ask you to do that."
"They can house-sit as well," said Pete. "That means Jack Dalton won't be able to move in, or steal your stuff."
"You've persuaded me!" said Mac.
"Good." The elevator stopped. The receptionist was having a bit of a melt-down. "They keep trying to run away and they've peed on the floor. I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry," said Pete, handing the receptionist a mop and bucket. "Have you sent out for dog food and supplies?"
"Yes, sir. There's an emergency vet coming out to have a look at them."
Mac was already sitting on the floor, talking to the puppies. "Oh look, you're so cute, your fur is all standing up on end. Rarity wouldn't like that, would she?"
"Rarity?" asked Pete.
"Rarity is a unicorn I know," said Mac, automatically.
Pete rolled his eyes. "Um, Mac, maybe we need to have the talk again. When do we just say no?"
"I want a puppy," said Mac. "Please let me keep a puppy."
Pete rolled his eyes again. "You can keep the puppies. But they won't always be small and cute. One day, they'll be great big dogs."
"I'd like that," said Mac. "We'll go for long walks together."
o-O-o
And so it came to pass that Mac spent Christmas Eve playing with three healthy puppies. Also drinking mulled grape juice. And eating snacks. And playing with puppies. He paused briefly to tell Pete that of course he didn't need to hang up his stocking on the wall. "I don't even wear stockings," he laughed.
"But Connie has prepared stockings for everyone. And bought extra nuts and tangerines just for you. You'd better play along."
"If it will keep her happy, okay."
This would be the best Christmas of his entire adult life.