All recognisable characters belong to either R. A. Dick or 20th Century Fox (specifically, Jean Holloway who created Sean Callahan and gave all of us the delightful pleasure of a double helping of the brilliant and much missed Edward Mulhare). Others are my own invention and any similarity to persons living (or dead) is entirely coincidental.

In my mind, a section break is a scene change. Chapters are more like after the advert break (which would make this a rather long episode!)

Many thanks to Whitehound's Ffn_how-to page for helping me with the lunacy of ff. net's formatting, which can't even cope with the most basic hard-coded HTML. Any remaining errors are mine. Many, MANY thanks to Gaylesam for taking a look and advising me where my UK mindset tripped over a US show and for being so welcoming. It's always nerve-wracking to submit your first piece for a new show and her bright and friendly response made this possible.

Please be advised there is character death in this story - although in this universe that doesn't necessarily mean the end of a character and it certainly doesn't here - and there are descriptions of violence. It's not over-graphic and is necessary, but if you don't care for such things then this story isn't for you.

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Double, Double, Toil And Trouble

"Someday you'll visit me in Ireland and I'll show you what a real ghost looks like. And, if you're very lucky, you may be able to see the wee people. And did you know that if you can catch a Leprechaun he has to tell you where he's hidden his pot of gold?"

"I'd love to visit your country some time."

"You would?"

"Hmm hmm."

Double Trouble, Season 2 Episode 4.

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Chapter 1

It was a seemingly normal day in Gull Cottage – inasmuch as that household ever earned the epithet. The children were at breakfast discussing their plans for the summer holidays, which would begin in two weeks; Martha was nodding sagely while trying to ensure toast didn't burn and delivering coffee, milk and juice as required and Mrs Carolyn Muir was checking the morning papers to see if they might spark any ideas for her writing.

The sound of a van outside was soon followed by a number of letters floating into the room to be dropped on the table in front of Carolyn.

"Thank you, Captain," she said and reached for the envelopes, sorting through them.

The ghost in question materialised. "You're welcome, madam." He looked over the typed missives. "Not much of interest, I'm afraid."

"Unless you're a bill collector," she agreed, quickly reducing the pile and tearing open an envelope, "and one cheque!" she cheered, waving the item in question.

"Yay!" Jonathan cried, punching the air. "I want a new model ship!"

"Hold your horses there, ensign!" Carolyn rebuked with a smile. The Captain grinned as Jonathan remarked he'd been promoted. "There are other things we need before we splurge on ourselves."

Martha was sorting through the bills, muttering to herself about the increasing cost of everything when she paused and handed over a hand-written envelope to Carolyn. "You missed one, Mrs Muir. Looks like you have a fan!"

"What makes you think that, Martha?"

"Look at the postmark. That one's from Ireland. You haven't written anything for an Irish magazine and I know we don't owe anyone there a penny." As she walked back to the stove she added, "Got to be about the only place we don't."

Curious, Carolyn opened the envelope and unfolded the letter within. "It's from Sean Callahan!"

"That flannel-mouth? What does he want?"

She grinned, noting the Captain's scowl. "Aw, come now, Captain. Haven't you got over that yet? You quite liked him by the time he left, and you did admit he had some Gregg blood in him."

"He must have to be your twin," Martha agreed. "That or the world's running out of ideas, 'though why it'd choose to recycle you is anyone's guess."

"Martha!" Carolyn scolded. "I happen to think the Captain's a very fine man and more of him in the world would never be a bad thing."

Reassured by Mrs Muir's endorsement the Captain drew himself to his full height and narrowed his eyes at Martha.

"You say so," she replied, turning back to the cooker. "Myself, I prefer a milder brew. One day one of your temper squalls will level the house!"

Insulted and blustering, the Captain sought to defend himself to Carolyn. "Madam, I would never put any of you in danger!"

Martha insisted on the last word. "No, just the carpets and the furniture!"

Before the Captain could respond Carolyn gasped. "He's invited me to visit him in Ireland," she said, "All expenses paid!" and she held up a plane ticket.

"Madam, you will be gone for months! What about the children?!"

"What about you, you mean," Martha commented under her breath.

"Airplane, Captain. It's a week's vacation for me in Ireland visiting Sean in his castle."

"Wow! He has a castle of his very own?" Candy cried, filled with excitement. "Can we come too?"

"Sorry, darling. There's only one ticket and I can't afford to get us all over there." Carolyn paused, tapping the ticket against her lips. "I can't really go either. I've got to get those articles finished or there'll be no food on the table next month."

Martha was looking at the cheque. "There's enough here to see us through for a bit and you can always write on the plane. Besides, the trip might give you some ideas. Maybe a visitor's guide to the Emerald Isle? Perhaps you could kiss the Blarney Stone while you're at it."

The Captain smirked, raising his chin and folding his arms across his chest. "Only the Irish could convince someone to contort themselves to kiss a stone that used to be a urinal."

Carolyn shuddered. "Really? In that case, never mind. Still…"

The Captain maintained a polite silence. In the past he would have told her flatly she couldn't go… which would have instantly resulted in her boarding the next aircraft. He'd learned his lesson. "Does he say why he wishes you to visit?"

"It's curious. He says it's at the request of the Great Ghost Callahan."

The Captain paled visibly. Jonathan, munching his toast, stared at him. "Captain Gregg? You look funny."

Carolyn looked up to see the intensely worried look in the Captain's eyes before he vanished. Martha frowned at the space where he'd been standing. "What was that about?" she asked.

Carolyn shook her head in confusion. "I've no idea."

"Mom? Is the Captain ok?"

"I don't know, Jonathan. I'm sure he'll tell me when he's ready."

"C'mon you two. Finish up or you'll be late for school," Martha chided. Taking a last sup of their drinks the children kissed Carolyn, grabbed their school bags and headed for the car, Martha following with their lunchboxes. "Leave their heads behind if they weren't screwed on tight. I'll put the cheque in the bank when I do my shopping. Is there anything you need?"

Carolyn shook her head. "No, thank you, Martha. I think I'll see if I can find out what's eating the Captain."

"Good luck with that. You know what he's like. All right!" she added as the children yelled they were waiting, "I'm coming!"

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It took a while but finally Carolyn found the Captain in the attic. She almost missed him, but a slight movement in the still room gave the game away. "C'mon Captain. I know you're there. What's the problem?"

Materialising the Captain turned to his charts. "What makes you think there's a problem, madam?"

"Well, let's see. That's the first time I've seen you actually look like a ghost. If you'd gone any paler I'd've been able to see clean through you. If I didn't know better I'd say you were terrified."

"I am not terrified, madam!" he replied stiffly. "Merely… concerned."

"Could'a fooled me. I get an invitation to meet the Great Ghost Callahan and maybe even a Leprechaun or two to boost our finances and…" She trailed off as the Captain turned away, hands clasped tightly behind his back. "Would you at least look at me when I'm talking to you?"

He about-faced smartly. "As you wish."

"It's only a week. I know in your day it took months to go from Schooner Bay to Ireland and back again, but it's all changed now. Flying I'll be in the air for what, seven hours at most? These days you even get a hot meal. Once I arrive in Dublin I can hire a car, drive to the castle, have a nice visit with Sean and be back again before you know it."

"The flight is not the problem, although I confess I cannot help but observe that if man were meant to fly he would have been granted wings."

"If we were meant to cross the oceans, a tail and fins might have been a good idea too!" she countered. "Didn't stop you."

"Touché, madam. Nevertheless, my greater concern is the source of the invitation."

"Captain, if you're worried about me being carried away by Sean's good looks…"

"What, that watery-eyed, weak-kneed ninny? Hardly!"

"Good, because you know I know he's a philanderer. Besides, I'm perfectly happy with the handsome companion I already have."

He gave her a half smile as she grinned at him, but his total lack of enthusiasm made something crawl up her back. "All right, now I know something's wrong. Nothing ever gets in the way of your ego when I pay you a compliment." She sat down on the seat by the window. "Come on, you may as well spit it out because you know I won't stop pestering you until you do."

Sighing, the Captain nodded and sat down beside her. Resting his elbows on his knees and gripping his hands tightly he stared at the floor for a moment before saying, "What exactly did Sean say in his letter, word for word?"

She pulled the letter from her pocket and unfolded it. "'My dearest Carolyn'," she read, "'I promised to send you a copy of my latest book, The Great Ghost Gregg, when it was published, but The Great Ghost Callahan, who has been watching my writing with a keen interest, suggested in a dream I give you the opportunity to check the draft copy in person to ensure you're happy with it before it goes to press. He was quite determined I get the message and repeated it several nights in a row until I got it through my, admittedly sometimes rather thick, skull. I therefore enclose an open plane ticket for you to visit me at your convenience…'" she trailed off, seeing the Captain's expression. "Captain?"

"That is what I feared," he muttered and then stood and paced the room. "Spirits do not invite people they have not met unless there is an ulterior motive. Ghost Callahan wants something of you, and given his insistence I doubt it will be good. I implore you, madam, for the sake of yourself and your children do not take him up on his invitation."

"Captain…"

He surprised her by going down on one knee in front of her. "M'dear, I am in earnest. I know if I tell you not to go you will ignore me, so I can only beg you not to refuse my request on this occasion and trust that I have a very good reason for it. Your very life may be in danger. I am not so eager to have you on my side of the veil just yet, and as for your children…"

Carolyn frowned as she gazed into his blue eyes. There was no hint of falsehood or prevarication in his expression, only genuine fear… something she had never seen before. That this powerful spirit was so wary gave her pause for thought. "All right, Captain. I'll write a polite letter to Sean turning down his invitation."

He bowed his head. "Thank you, madam. You will be better for it, I assure you."

"Do you have any idea what the ghost wants?"

"None, and on this occasion I am happy to remain ignorant."

Together they rose and went downstairs to the cabin where Carolyn's typewriter lay waiting. She composed a polite letter of refusal, put the ticket in the envelope, addressed it by hand and put the letter out for collection. Even so it was not until it was safely away from the house the Captain's mood seemed to revive and things went back to 'normal'.

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The children had grown up and while Candy still visited from time to time while working as a psychologist at Johns Hopkins, Jonathan had decided to follow in the Captain's footsteps and was now second in command aboard a navy ship, much to the Captain's great pride. His last missive indicated he was en route to Algiers and eager to see if anything remained of the sights with which the Captain had regaled him all those years before.

"I see it's that time again," Carolyn groaned as she opened the 'par avion' envelope from Ireland with its plane ticket details. "Once again… blah, blah, blah. Great Ghost Callahan insists… blah, blah… oh!"

The Captain looked up sharply. Every five years one of these invitations had arrived and Mrs Muir had politely rejected each one as per his request. It was the only thing on which he continued to insist. The change in Carolyn's voice alerted the Captain to a major sea-shift. "What is it, madam?"

"Sean's dying!" she moaned, racing through the letter. "He's been diagnosed with lung cancer. He says this will be the last chance and he begs me to visit before it's too late." The Captain opened his mouth but she cut him off. "I know what you're going to say, but this time I really can't. It's his dying wish, Captain! We can't turn him down again! Imagine if it were your dying wish." He raised an eyebrow. "All right I know, but do you want Sean to come here and haunt us both because I didn't visit him at the end?"

"Madam, this is a one spirit house, I assure you! If he did turn up I'd soon scare him away."

"I'm sure you would, but that's not the point. I have no excuses. The children are gone, Maria has settled in and 'though she'll never replace poor dear Martha she can take care of the house in my absence, and while we're hardly wealthy we're secure enough for me to take some time off. Please, Captain. Please give me your blessing. You know I'm going anyway, but I'd prefer to do so without a fight." He paced the room, deep in thought. Finally he looked up and nodded. "Thank you! And it will only be a week. We'll see each other soon!" she said eagerly, rushing to the phone to book her flight.

"Trust me, madam, you will not be out of my sight," the Captain muttered thoughtfully.