DISCLAIMER

The following is a work of fiction.

The characters and events involving the "Sons of Anarchy" are the creation of Kurt Sutter. Characters from the movies "Road House" and "Ghostrider" are the creations of their writers.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Any use of lyrics and the mention of songs and performers in this text is also not intended to infringe upon any copyrights held by any of the artists.

DEDICATION

Much love goes to:

My DH (who is thankfully very much alive!), for taking the time to offer insights. Also for having the love in his heart to allow me all my little obsessions and not feeling threatened by them.

My best friend (who does live in FL), for kicking my ass when needed and for love throughout these many years.

The Indy Tarts and Tartans fan group, for giving encouragement, even though there was little GB involvement. Tignation and Facebook friends who also took an interest and added their encouragement. You know who you are.

Finally, much thanks to Mr. Kurt Sutter for creating the Sons Of Anarachy universe in the first place, and to Mr. Kim Coates for his excellent portrayal of Alex 'Tig' Trager.

Author's note

This is a stand alone story, and is not intended to a part of my SOA alternate universe of Charming Pawse, though there are events that carry over from Mr. Sutter's universe and the Chaming Pawse universe. If you are interested in reading about events that are mentioned in this story that occurred in the Charming Pawse universe, please feel free to check out Charming Pawse, Book 1, which is listed on this fan fiction site. Some events will be forthcoming in the Charming Pawse series.

Episodes of Sons of Anarchy Season 1 and Season 2 can be seen online, mainly at FX and/or other online sites. There is also the Season 1 DVD available at any retailer.

Though most of the characters are ficitional in this effort, the harpist Joe Longstreth really existed. He was a family friend who resided in Richmond, IN. He encouraged me in music, writing and broadcasting. He was a classical harpist and I am blessed to have four of his albums. Unfortunately, he died many years ago. His Christmas LP is no longer available.

The spiritualism in this fable is not intended to force my religious/spiritual beliefs on anyone. It's my hope that you'll enjoy this story in the spirit in which it is offered. May you enjoy a Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Good Winter Solstice, Kwanzaa or whatever holiday you celebrate at this time of year.

ML

November 2009

Indianapolis, IN

CHARMING PAWSE

A CHRISTMAS TAIL

She would never admit it, if anyone asked. What was the one thing Cat, now living in California, missed about the Midwest? She missed snow.

Oddly, she'd often hated snow when she lived in Indiana. She firmly believed it should only snow from Christmas Eve into Christmas Day, and then be gone. Now she lived in an area where snow and the conditions that brought it were seldom encountered, and she missed the blasted white, wet and cold flakes.

Despite the lack of the cold white stuff on the ground, there was plenty of holiday cheer to be found in Charming. Wreaths and lights adorned the business district's light poles, and many of the shops had been decorated since Labor Day.

Charming Pawse didn't put on its' holiday finery until after Thanksgiving. Cat refused to decorate her shop before then, as there was Hallowe'en, Veterans Day and Thanksgiving to recognize. She hated the commercialism involved in Christmas and wouldn't jump on that bandwagon as a business owner.

Once Thanksgiving passed, the store was decked out in twinkling lights along the walls. A tree was decorated with more lights and small items such as gift cards, seasonally flavored coffee labels, logo bookmarks and coasters. Larger gift items, such as logo mugs, t-shirts and gift baskets rested under the branches.

The sound system had some Christmas music in the rotation, mostly instrumental selections. Her much loved Joe Longstreth Harp Christmas album, Jackie Gleason orchestrated holiday CD and Vince Giardi Peanuts Christmas CD got a lot of play. For good measure, so did one certain vocal Christmas CD by Michael Crawford, who was the first Phantom in the musical 'Phantom of the Opera'.

While there were snowmen and Santa and the reindeer, there were also a couple of manger scenes set up. One rested under the tree, and one of cat figurines sat on a table under the cat window.

Much to the relief of her staff, she decided not to open in the wee small hours of the morning the day after Thanksgiving for 'Black Friday'. Many stores in the surrounding area were opening as early as 4AM, which meant customers would be lining up hours earlier. The heaviest shopping was going to be at the malls and big box stores; not in Charming. Most of the local stores weren't going to be open that early on Friday, if at all.

It made no economic sense to drag her staff out at 'oh dark thirty' on the oft chance that early bird shoppers would want to pick up a cup of her coffee before they headed to the malls. The store was to remain closed for the entire four day weekend.

Bobby Munroe and Cat had disagreed over the four day closure. He was concerned about missing profit. He had a right because the Sons of Anarchy were 30% partners with her. "Darlin' you're missing out on a lot of potential income here. Isn't 'Black Friday' one of the biggest sales days of the year?"

"Oh, brother, you shouldn't have gone there," Tig Trager interjected. He was the MC's Sergeant at Arms and Cat's husband. He knew that his lady would be well prepared to meet that question.

"I understand and appreciate your concern, Bobby," Cat replied, smiling sweetly as she passed a folder to him. "Here's a study I made of the sales in Charming on 'Black Friday' versus the malls and big box stores. Over the last few years, local stores actually lost sales that day."

Bobby glanced over the figures and charts she'd prepared, noting that the local stores not only lost sales on 'Black Friday', but also during the entire Thanksgiving weekend.

" I think once you review the figures, you'll agree that giving the staff time off is in our best interest,."she added, nearly purring with satisfaction.

"I warned you," Trager laughed. Cat was never unprepared. Bobby had no choice but to give in gracefully.

Even though they had a four day weekend, her employees showed up on Black Friday and Saturday to help decorate and to flavor and roast beans for the upcoming weeks. When the store opened Monday, the holiday rendition of Charming Pawse was ready for everybody!

As far as decorations in the house, Cat kept them to a minimum. Her dearly departed husband Bill, had never liked the idea of putting lights outside of the house. He'd said it called too much attention to the house and it was a pain to put them up and take them down every year. Trager enthusiastically shared that sentiment and was relieved he wouldn't have to climb ladders to string the bothersome things.

Knowing Cat's determination to get things done the way she wanted, not only did he forbid her to string lights on her own, he made sure she would 'obey' his directive. He took the ladders from the house and the store and hid them at Teller-Morrow. The neighbors were also forbidden to allow her to borrow their ladders. His dark countenance was enough to make the neighbors accede to his wishes.

"I seem to specifically remember that the word 'obey' was not a part of our wedding ceremony," she grumbled when she discovered that she could not string the lights on her own unless she sprouted wings.

"Read the fine print on the marriage license sometime, babe. It's there."

"Uh-huh. Just remember that particular pendulum can swing back on ya when least expected!"

That particular battle won, he was feeling quite pleased with himself as his endeavors left only one decoration on the house. That was a wreath of three caroling cats with the words 'Meowy Christmas' under them. The wreath was battery operated and had a motion sensor. When the switch was engaged, the cats would meow a carol when anyone came to the door.

She'd installed fresh batteries and engaged the switch when first putting it on the door. The plan was to confirm it still worked, but she also couldn't wait to see her husband's reaction to his first encounter with the wreath. She considered it just a tiny bit of payback for the lack of outdoor lights, and she wasn't disappointed. . .at first.

A sudden "What the fuck?!", combined with the meowing carol alerted her that Alex had activated the wreath. He was not pleased.

"It's a musical wreath, love. What do you think?"

"It's O.K. except for the noise. Do you have to have them sing?"

"No - o - o. But it's only once a year!" She was teasing him, as she had no intention of keeping the batteries in. The singing cats upset her trio, and the caterwauling actually got on her nerves. She only planned to have the switch engaged if they had any guests come over.

Trager glared at her. "If you like it that much, why not hang it on the door of the store so it goes off every time someone passes through?"

"I get your point," she replied hastily, removing the wreath's batteries. "And you call me evil!"

He grinned and reveled in the satisfaction of having won another round in the battle of wits, but wisely remained silent over his victory.

There was a small tree in the house, decorated with lights and some of the ornaments she'd brought from Indiana.

There was a wide array of ornaments: A set from a major pet store in support of animal shelters; different ornaments that held pictures of her current cats, and kitty angels that represented those of hers who'd crossed the Rainbow Bridge. There were also ornaments related to movies, her Mopar allegiance, motorcycles, and to the military.

The ornaments that told the story of her life with Bill remained in their box. That story had ended, and she didn't want to dredge up those memories during what should be a happy time of year. She didn't want to make Trager uncomfortable in his own home with their presence.

"Whatever you want to do is O.K. with me," Trager had told her when she asked his opinion about the decorations. "I've never had reason for a tree and all that. What you've done looks pretty good."

"You don't mind the Gerry ornaments?" she asked impishly. The ornaments in question were glass bulbs with movie stills from his role in "The Phantom of the Opera" pasted in them.

"I don't even mind the ornaments dedicated to your boyfriend," he replied teasingly.

There wasn't any mistletoe in the house and she originally didn't put any in the store. She felt too much emphasis was put on it. A sprig was finally put up after one of her younger part timers, Christopher Johns, told her that the youngsters had asked about it. Once it was set up, she avoided it like the plague, even when Trager was in the store, though he would eye it meaningfully.

The cat area was decorated with twinkling lights along the shop's side of the windows. Often the three would bat at the lights to the delight of the customers. Three stockings hung on the door to their room. Eventually the customers filled them with toys and treats for the cats' Christmas cheer.

As the December days passed, cards and other greetings arrived from her friends and family. Instead of displaying them on the walls as she had in the past, she purchased a basket to display the cards. A few envelopes and packages were addressed to the both of them. Those came from friends and family who knew how important Alex was to her. The envelopes were left for him to open, as she felt he might enjoy opening personal holiday mail.

Finding personal mail addressed to him and waiting for him to open was a new experience for Trager. He was both surprised and appreciative that he'd been included. Those were the cards that were displayed with pride along the door frame between the living room and dining area

Her father sent a large package in care of the store as she requested. Part of her reason was to surprise Alex with packages from her family under the tree on Christmas Day. Having it addressed to the store served to keep the surprise hidden from him, as well as keeping the secret of their marriage from getting out.

The MC got involved in charity endeavors for the season by collecting clothing, food, and toys for the less fortunate. It was something they did every year but their efforts took on a whole new meaning this year. There was the white separatists trying to take root in the town and the club still had charges hanging over their collective heads from their raid of the Morado Christian Center earlier in the year. Charming needed something to help remind them that the club did a lot of good for the town.

Charming Pawse also got involved in charitible concerns, but of the furry and four-footed variety. A large box, wrapped with holiday pet paper, was set up in order to collect donations for the local humane society and animal shelter. Soon it was filled with cans and bags of dog and cat food, litter, toys, pet beds and even checks for the homeless critters.

Cat purchased gifts to send to her father, step-mother and step-brother, her best friend, and her godchild who was a senior in college. Those packages were mailed off in plenty of time to be opened on Christmas Day. The only people she hadn't shopped for were Alex's daughters, Dawn and Fawn.

Despite the amount of time they had been together, she had yet to meet his daughters. This wasn't because Trager kept her from them or vice versa. It was mostly due to their mother's attitude towards him. Although he seemed to accept it as a part of life, Cat inwardly seethed at the unfairness of the situation. Even if their parents divorced, kids deserved to have contact with both parents. She knew Alex cared about his daughters, otherwise he wouldn't carry their pictures around in his wallet.

She wanted the status quo to change, so he could have more time and interaction with his girls. He'd received a card from them on Father's Day, but as far as she knew, that was it for any contact. The girls and their father were definitely missing out.

She had nothing to do with getting his child support payments made; those were automatically withheld from his Teller Morrow paycheck. She did some research and determined there was nothing that would prevent Alex from writing to his daughters. Therefore, every month she wrote a short note to them that was sent to the county. It was written as if he was speaking, and signed 'with love, Daddy'.

When the letters resulted in no repercussions from their mother, Cat held out some hope for a holiday miracle. Her biggest wish was that the little girls could have a real relationship with their father. As far as shopping for gifts for them at Christmas, however, she adopted a wait and see attitude. She decided if he wanted her help in that area, he'd ask. It was an area that fell under that matter of boundaries they had talked about following their first – and so far only – major argument, when she'd questioned his authority over Prospect in front of other people.

Because he hadn't told her a lot about his past, Cat figured that his family consisted of her, his daughters, her family and the MC. She knew there was more to his life than he'd told her, but she didn't push for answers. She knew he'd tell her when he was ready, and not before. Like the situation with his daughters and his feelings of inadequacy around her father, she decided that those issues would be resolved in their own time.


One dreary day in late December, a 'lone wolf' rider walked into the store. Very tall and thin, with silver hair that hung just past his shoulders and a white mustache. He had blue eyes that reminded her of Alex's. He wore a long brown coat, a duster, against the cool temperatures. He looked much like the riders in the MC, except he carried no visible weaponry.

"Cold day for ridin'," Cat said in greeting.

"You bet, ma'am. Got any black coffee?" The rider replied, shaking his hands and arms in an attempt to warm up.

"Oh, I think I can manage to rustle some up," she replied with a wry grin. The rider had a low, gravelly voice, somewhat like Alex's. However, it wasn't as intimidating as his had been when they'd first met. She poured out a large black coffee in one of the logo mugs and placed it on the counter. "Where do you come from, if it's O.K. to ask?"

"Nowhere special," he replied, wrapping his hands gratefully around the mug, savoring its' warmth. "I go from town to town, wherever there's work. My last job was a cemetery caretaker. Got word of a friend needing a little help with taming a bar. I heard about this place, and since it's on the way, thought I'd stop in."

"Welcome to Charming, then. Did you read about us on line?" She asked because Juice, a member of the MC, had set up a web page for the store. It often enticed visitors from far out of town to come visit. He always appreciated learning when she had out of town visitors who had read about the store on line.

"No, ma'am. I heard about it first hand from a relative," the rider replied. "I thought it was about time to meet the lady who managed to tame Tig. My name is Garrett, Wade Garrett."

She held her hand to him. "Cat Marshall," she replied, shaking hands with him. "So you're a relative of Tig's. I noticed a slight resemblance, mostly about the eyes."

Garrett gazed quizzically at her. "Marshall? I thought that you and Tig –"

"We did, but we haven't publicized it. Officially, I'm his 'old lady'. With the type of work he does for the club, and the additional hassle of a white hate group causin' trouble, I felt it better to keep our marriage on the QT. That way, there's be less chance that someone would use me to get back at him."

Garrett nodded. "That makes a lot of sense. You've got a nice place here, Cat. Does Tig come around much?"

"He or one of the other riders comes by every once in a while to check in." She felt a vibration in her pocket, the two way phone that connected her to Alex. "Speak of the devil," she added, pulling the phone from her pocket.

"Hey, love. You keepin' warm?"

"As much as I can," he replied. "Thought I'd see if you wanted company and could warm me up."

"You really have to ask?"

"Just making sure, babe. Anything happening there?"

"Not much. A family member of yours is here. Does the name Wade Garrett ring a bell?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Garrett's there? Right now?"

"Ye-es." She wasn't encouraged by the change in his tone of voice. It was like walking down a country road on a summer night and passing by a cemetery, and the warm summer air suddenly chilled.

"I'm on my way," he growled. The phone went dead before she had the chance to say anything.

"I take it he's on his way over," Garrett said. "I'm not surprised."

"Family feud of some kind?"

"You could say that. We don't exactly get along."

Cat smiled sadly. "Been there, done that myself. Is there any reason he would be unhappy about your visit?"

"There is, but he's here, so I'll wait so that we can both explain it."

Trager parked his Harley out front and ran into the store. "What in the Hell are you doing here, Garrett?" His growl was both warning and inquiry as he moved to stand defensively next to his wife. She had already poured out a mug of black coffee for him.

"As I explained to your old lady, I was passing through town and just wanted to meet the woman who had managed to get you to settle down. Nothing to get riled about, cousin."

"You shouldn't call me that, Garrett."

"True, we're not that closely related," Garrett said. "My branch of the family tree is a bit 'twisted'."

"You can say that again!" Trager growled.

"All right," she interjected. "I'm probably oversteppin' my bounds again, Tig, but what gives with the attitude? I know from experience that family can have issues, and some family members a person can do without. I don't understand why you feel so threatened by Garrett."

"He doesn't appreciate my line of work," Garrett offered. "I know, pot calling the kettle black and all. In his defense, he does have good reason to feel that way."

"Are you a bounty hunter?" she asked, thinking of her man's last encounter with recovery agents. Though that had turned out to have been set up by the white separatists.

"Of sorts. Though I don't go after the usual bail jumpers. I answer to a lower authority."

Cat's eyebrow shot up her forehead in response. "Hmmm. Y'know, I read a lot, especially sci-fi and Stephen King, so my mind is probably a little more open that most. So why don't you just spit it out and tell me exactly what you do."

"Baby, do you really want to pursue this?" Trager interjected. "His line of work gives me the creeps!"

She put a comforting arm around his waist. He was shaking, whether from his own upset or fear for her she wasn't sure. "It's OK, love. I'm a big girl." Turning her attention back to Garrett she added, "Spill it, Wade. Who - or what - do you work for?"

"He goes by many names. Lord of Darkness, Lucifer, Satan, the Devil, take your pick. I'm what's known as a Devil's Bounty Hunter."

"I see. So you're not really on the way to help a friend tame a bar. You're a Ghost Rider," she replied. "Like that movie that came out in 2008."

Both men looked at her in astonishment. "What movie are you talking about?" Trager asked.

"I can understand Garrett not knowing about it, but c'mon Tig! I know you've seen it at least once! The club has a copy of it, and we have it in our library!"

They both looked at her as if a pair of horns had suddenly sprouted out of her head. "It's that Nicholas Cage movie where a stunt motorcyclist makes a deal with the Devil to save his father's life and later becomes a bounty hunter of souls." she explained patiently. "Kinda fascinating how fiction can mirror real life."

Trager scrubbed his face with his hand. How could she so easily accept something that scared the daylights out of him? There was actually a movie based on Garrett's work? Maybe he'd have to check it out again, as he honestly couldn't recall having seen it. But if he did watch it, he sure as Hell wasn't going to watch it alone!

"We might as well continue this at the house. It's closin' time anyway. You're welcome to stay for supper, Wade, if you don't mind chili."

"That's fine with me, ma'am. There is more for us to discuss." He turned his attention to Trager and added, "Is that all right with you, Tig?"

"When it comes to the house, Cat's in charge," the rider replied, forcing back his distaste at the idea of his relative's presence in their house. For now, he'd go along with his wife's natural tendency towards hospitality.

"If y'all would let me get locked up, we can reconvene in a few minutes." She shooed the pair out the front door, locked it behind them, and then turned off the lights. As the men mounted their bikes, she placed the cats in their run and closed the cat room off to them so they would return to the house.

Aren't you going to take her home?" Garrett asked.

"We live around back on the next street," Trager replied tersely. "She'll probably have the door unlocked by the time we get around the block." He started his bike, preventing any further conversation. As the pair pulled into the driveway, Garrett noticed the black rice burner parked next to the PT Cruiser. . "Let me guess, the Yamaha belongs to her. It figures you'd take up with a lady rider, Tig."

"She's the only female rider/owner in town," Trager replied, unable to keep a touch of pride out of his voice.

Cat unlocked the door and automatically reached down to block Ebony from getting out. She pushed the large black cat back into the house, holding him until the men entered and the door was safely closed.

She crossed to the refrigerator, pulled out two beers, and passed them to the men. "Y'all make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back shortly," she said, disappearing down the hall to the bedroom.

The pair found seats in the living room as far apart from each other as possible while still allowing them to converse without Cat overhearing.

"So what's the real reason for this trip, Garrett? You here to deliver some kind of holiday warning?"

"Good guess, Tig. You took an innocent life a few months ago. There's a debt to be paid for that. I've come to collect that debt."

Trager nearly choked on his beer. "After all this time?"

"It's only because of our family ties that I've been able to put it off this long."

Trager took another swig of beer. "When?"

"Tonight. We'll ride out after dinner. I'm sorry, cuz. But you knew there would be a bill to pay for killing Donna Winston."

"Yeah. I just always assumed it was something that would come up after I was six feet under, just like everything else," he replied sourly. "I certainly didn't expect it to happen now, when my life finally has something decent and good in it!"

"It's out of my hands."

"What's out of your hands, Wade?" Cat asked, returning to the living room. She'd changed out of her work attire to black jeans and a long sleeved fleece shirt. It too, was black, and had a cat face on the front. She moved gracefully across the room to sit on the arm of her husband's chair, laying her arm casually around his shoulder.

"An old family dispute, babe," Trager replied. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"Speaking of family, Wade, you mentioned a relative had told you about us. Which relative was that?" Cat inquired.

"Tig's girls mentioned that he was seeing a nice lady who seemed to make him happy. They said he's been sending them a letter every month, and has been for some time. They come in with the child support payments from what I heard from their mother."

Trager knew he hadn't sentletters to the girls, much less talked about his love life to anyone. His child support was withheld by the county from his garage paycheck. He immediately knew who was responsible for sending those letters on his behalf, and using the county system to do it.

"Thanks a lot, Wade!" Cat hissed. "Just once I'd like to do somethin' nice for someone without it gettin' publicized!" She stormed into the kitchen, slamming doors and drawers, retrieving bowls and utensils. She muttered invectives under her breath against Wade as she worked and waited for Hurricane Alex to explode. She had a feeling he wasn't going to be happy over her 'meddling', no matter how well intentioned.

"Sorry, ma'am. I assumed the letters were Tig's doing. The girls thought so, and they really appreciate getting them."

"Just what's in those letters?" Trager asked quietly, his eyes fixed on hers.

"That you're well, and that you think of them often and love them and miss them. And yeah, one time a letter mentioned you were seeing a 'nice lady'. The child support division reviews them and sends them on," she replied defiantly, slamming the refrigerator door and throwing the bag of shredded cheese on the table. "Nothin' you wouldn't say to them if you had the chance."

Trager glared at Garrett, rose from his chair and walked over to her. He took her in his arms and hugged her. "It's OK, baby. I never thought their mother would allow me to write them, so I never bothered to try. You're always thinking of ways to improve my life. 'Nice' doesn't even begin to describe you." Not caring that Wade was watching, Trager bent his face to meet hers and kissed her.

Garrett wasn't disturbed at all by the display. He realized that Trager truly loved this woman, and she was his life. Cat didn't realize it, but Garrett recognized she was bringing something to Trager that had once been given to her. He could tell his 'cousin' was loved so very completely by her, which was why she worked to bridge the gap between Trager and his children. Perhaps there was another option open that would spare his relative. It was a slim chance, but it was worth exploring.

Trager released her from his embrace, and she smiled shakily at him. "You'd think I'd have learned by now that I can't help you and not have it get out in some way, shape or form," she mused. "Daddy's right, my little sins always find me out."

"Well, if the things you do to make Tig's life better are considered sins," Garrett interjected, "Humanity could use a little more of that kind of sinning."

She glared over at the rider for a moment, giving him 'the look' that she and Trager often used on each other when one or the other had pushed matters too far. 'The look' was supposed to be intimidating when the person giving it stared over their glasses frames just right. Either she was losing her touch, or 'the look' didn't work on Ghost Riders. She gave up on 'the look' and said, "Sit yourself down, Wade. I'm not going to defenestrate you for ratting me out. This time."

Once dinner was underway and to interrupt the uncomfortable silence between the two men, she inquired of Wade, "Do you have a place to stay overnight? It's gettin' cooler out, I can't see why you should ride to another town if you don't have to. We don't have a spare room, but if Tig agrees, you're welcome to camp out on the couch."

"If that's what you want, babe," Tig replied. What else could he say? He had no choice but to play along unless he wanted her to know what was going to happen and raise holy Hell.

"Then I guess that's settled."

"Yes, ma'am!" the two replied in near unison.

When the meal was over, the pair ventured out to the back yard, leaving Cat to clean up.

"So when do we leave?" Trager asked, lighting up a cigarette. His attention was fully focused on watching her through the kitchen window.

"In a bit. We won't leave together. You can manufacture some kind of excuse involving the club, can't you?

"Yeah, I suppose so," he replied without much enthusiasm.

"Do so. I'll meet you at the club house in an hour."

"You can't give me one more night with her? Something that she can hold to? Can't you see how much this will hurt her?" Trager snarled. "I know you don't give a shit about me. But taking me away tonight won't change anything. It won't bring Donna back! Don't you think I've wished that night never happened?"

"You might as well get this over with. There's nothing you can do about it." Garrett replied coldly. "The longer you try to draw this out, the harder it's going to be on you, and for her."

Garrett remained in the backyard as Trager trudged into the house. He would allow Tig a few moments privacy with his lady. Garrett was well aware that his relative hated him. He hoped that Trager would enjoy a long and healthy hate, if what Garrett had in mind panned out.


Trager walked into the house, his heart heavier than he'd ever thought it could weigh. He'd only been away without it being his choice one night, the one he'd spent in as a guest of the county in jail. He'd hoped there would never be another forced separation. Unfortunately, this wasn't to in the cards. This would be a permanent separation..

He found her in the living room, curled up in her recliner and reading a book. Misty and Ming were curled up with her. Some instrumental music, apparently Scottish from the bagpipes, was playing softly in the background. The light from the lamp next to her caught the highlights in her dark colored hair. At that moment, it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He'd liked the salt and pepper color she'd had when she'd first come to town, but he liked the dark rinse Gemma Morrow had talked her into adopting even better. It certainly had made a difference in her outlook and behavior.

"Bad news, babe. I'm needed at the club for a bit."

She looked up at him in inquiry. "This late? I hope no one's been hurt." She was the club's ex-officio medical officer. She had no voting privileges, but whenever one of the riders who didn't have a wife or 'old lady' was injured or sick, she was the one who paid for their care and worked with the doctors and hospitals when necessary.

"No, nothing that serious. Just club business," he replied casually.

"Want me to wait up?"

Typical of her to think of him like that. He fought to keep his pain from showing and succeeded, but just barely. "No, baby. I may be real late. No sense in you waiting up, especially since we have a guest."

She rose and hugged him about the waist, laying her head on his chest. "An outlaw's work is never done, is it love? Be safe."

"Always," he growled, holding her tightly to him. It would be the last time he would hold get to do so. Damn it to Hell! His time with her had been much too short. He knew that any amount of time would be much too short. No amount of time was going to be enough, even if he had lived to be 100. He thought he had an idea of what went through Bill's mind when he realized he would no longer be able to live with Cat. His death had left an incredible hole in her life and her heart, and now she was going to have to experience it again.

He placed his hands on either side of her face, pushing her away from him just far enough that he could kiss her. He wished his kiss could tell her everything that he wanted to say, but could never put into words. Now, with everything about to go to shit in a handbag, all he could say to her was "Sleep well, baby."

"I'll see ya when I see ya," she replied.

He released her and strode out the door. He wanted to look back one last time, but couldn't bear to do so. Her habitual goodbye pierced his heart. If he'd turned back to look at her, she'd see the tears streaming down his cheeks and known there was no club business. Then she'd make the fur fly until she got the truth out of him and there would be no happy memory for her to cling to when he was gone.

Garrett didn't enter the house until he heard the scream of Trager's Harley fade down the street. He found Cat making up the sofa for him, stuffing one end of a sheet into the back of it and along the bottom of the cushions. "Guess you know that Alex got called away on club business," she said, fluffing out a blanket to complete the bed. "He may be back late, so I hope he doesn't disturb you."

"He won't - because I won't be here," Garrett replied, taking the blanket from her and tossing it onto the couch. "Cat, I need to talk with you. There's something you need to know."

"Alex is in trouble," she replied quietly. It wasn't a question.

Garrett nodded. "I need you to hold to that open mindedness you displayed earlier as hard as you can. What I have to tell you is going to be hard for you to hear."

"Then we'd better sit down. Tell me the whole thing. Don't even think of leaving one 'i' undotted or one 't' uncrossed," she replied grimly, curling up in her recliner. Misty, sensing her owner's distress, hopped into her lap and purred comfortingly. The little one-eyed black cat was rewarded with her owner's hand skritching her chin and stroking her fur.

"You already know that I'm not on my way to a job. I'm on a job. I came here because Tig has a devil's bounty on him. He took the life of an innocent woman a few months ago. That woman took bullets meant for her own husband who had been made to look like he was betraying the club."

"Donna Winston," Cat whispered. Alex's behavior that night now made a lot more sense. He'd not acted the way a friend would behave over the loss of that friend's wife. He'd behaved as if he needed to atone for something terrible.

"Yes, ma'am. Tig couldn't kill a brother face to face. Nor could he just shoot him in the back, though he had the opportunity earlier that day. He tried to tell himself that it was his phobia, because they were in a doll warehouse at the time." Garrett paced the room as he related the story to her. "Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he couldn't believe Opie was a rat and couldn't pull the trigger. Because Clay wanted the hit completed that night, Tig shot at the truck from behind."

"So when he saw that Donna was the driver of the truck instead of Opie, that caused him to go off the deep end. He picked a fight at a bar because he came home with his face all beaten up."

"Had you not been there to pull him from the brink, he wouldn't have lasted the night and the debt would've been paid," Garrett concluded.

"So you've been sent to settle the score. Just how did you get into this business, anyway?"

"How does anyone get into anything? I was young and stupid and this guy offered me a deal that sounded too good to be true."

"Like Johnny in the song 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia', eh?"

"Kinda of like that, or the story of 'The Devil and Daniel Webster'," Garrett replied. "So I take the guy up on his offer, and life was pretty good up until 1989, when I was helping a friend tame a place called the 'Double Deuce' in Missouri. The rich guy who ran the town didn't like change. One of his henchmen caught me off guard and killed me."

"That's when the Devil came to collect on his part of the bargain," Cat observed.

He nodded affirmatively. "I went from a human being to being something not so human."

"And your relationship with Alex? There is a familial tie of some kind."

"We are cousins. I was - am - older than him. He was always tagging around after me. His father didn't have much time for him. Without some kind of stability in his life, he would get in a lot of trouble, so I tried to be more of a big brother than a cousin. He went into the military because of me. When I died in Missouri 20 years ago, it hit him hard. When he found out what I became, it scared him. Sometimes it scares me."

"How did he find out about your new lot in Life?"

"I came to him and told him. It was a few weeks after my funeral. I couldn't bear what my death was doing to him emotionally, so I 'appeared' to him one night, convinced him he wasn't dreaming, and told him what had happened. I didn't want him to make the same mistake. He freaked and ordered me to leave him alone. I haven't seen him until today."

"If bein' a Ghost Rider causes you this much pain, why continue to do it? You still have free will. You can still make a choice. As for Donna, her death happened, and it can't be undone. And from what you're saying, Alex isn't the only guilty party. Why have you waited all this time to collect on this so-called debt?"

Garrett shrugged. "Tig is family. I waited as long as I could, but the Devil is one bitch of a boss to work for. The others who are responsible will have their day of reckoning. This is Tig's day."

"If you've waited this long, the debt must not be that much of a big deal to your boss. Besides, Alex has already paid a price for what he did!"

"Does it really matter to you, now that you know what really happened that night? Can you honestly say you love a man who is capable of such cold and callous behavior?" Garrett asked harshly. He was being deliberately cruel, but he had to be absolutely sure of her devotion to Tig.

"Yes, I can. He can be ruthless and cold when he's engaged in club business. It's what he does and has known how to do for years," she replied quietly. "But I've seen his heart. Something in him called to me the very first day we met. As far as killing Donna, he was genuinely remorseful about it."

"So remorseful that he physically abused you to purge his guilt!" Garrett replied scathingly.

"I said it then, and I'm saying it now: you can't rape the willing. He needed that release, I gave it to him. Maybe it was a little uncomfortable for me for awhile– "

"This is me you're talking to, Cat. I know better!" Garrett huffed.

"Fine! It hurt like a bitch! So what? I'll do again if it's necessary!" She replied, showing that same defiance as when she'd confessed to writing the letters to Trager's daughters. "If you're looking for a debt to be settled, you need to know that he paid for that night many times over. You weren't the one who saw the pain in his eyes from what he did that night, and you weren't the one who helped him through it!"

Garrett smirked at her. "Yeah, one night and you took the punishment!"

"That shows how little you know, Wade. Probably because your boss prefers it that way!"

"Then now's your chance to educate me."

"Fine!" She picked up Misty and put her on the chair behind her as she angrily paced the room. "For many nights after Donna's death, he was haunted by nightmares. Even when we left town for a week, the nightmares followed him."

Garrett rolled his eyes to the heavens, rubbing his thumb against the second and third fingers of his hand in the old 'world's tiniest violin playing for you' gesture. .

"They had to have been ghastly, because he would cry in his sleep and no amount of comfort I gave would wake him. He'd be sweating and shivering at the same time. The next morning, he had no recollection of the dreams. It took weeks for those nightmares to leave him alone, but they eventually went away. It also affected his ability to handle club business, and the president went so far as to question his ability to do the work that's so important to him. So you still think the figures aren't balanced?"

"I don't see where that makes any difference," Garrett replied.

She raised both hands in a gesture of supplication. "You think I'm making excuses for him. That I'd never compromise my values and stay with him if I were a true Christian. Maybe I'm wrong to love the sinner and overlook the sin. If so, the Almighty and I will have to work that out when the time comes. If it damns me, so be it."

"Don't you want to be reunited with Bill - your grandparents - even your pets in the next life?"

"Of course I do!" she cried. "I miss them all every day. I loved Bill with all my heart, it killed me emotionally to lose him. But if my other beloved can't be in the Hereafter with me, I'd rather not be there. It won't be Paradise without Alex there to share it too!"

"Are you hoping that Tig will be miraculously saved like the thief on the Cross on Good Friday?"

"That's between Alex and the Almighty," she replied. "I believe that Christ and God love us and they take everything into consideration. I also believe that if someone is loved, even if they do unlovely things, that is also considered by Them." She stopped pacing to glare at the rider. "Why are you asking all these questions, Wade? If you've been sent here to even the score, you're putting me through the wringer for no reason except to make me miserable. You're succeeding,"

"There is a good reason when you're looking for the proverbial loophole," Garrett replied. "Up until a few hours ago, I was more than willing to make Tig pay his debt. But after meeting you, talking with you, and seeing the gifts you've brought to his life, I've had second and third thoughts. And I've decided to help you both, if you're willing."

"So you do have free choice, after all. Just like that Johnny Blaze character in the move," she mused. "You've retained your freedom of will, haven't you?"

"Like you said," Garrett replied with a terse smile. "It's interesting how reality can mirror fiction!"

"Fancy that," she returned to her recliner, and Misty settled back in her lap. She stroked the cat as she thought over Wade's confession. "So what happens now?"

"That's up to you. Search your heart and your experiences. What do they tell you?"

She was silent for a while, lost in thought of all that Christmas meant, and about debts owed to the devil. She doubted Alex had ever made a deal with Satan so any claim the Dark Lord had on him was slim at best.

"Christmas Eve is one of the holiest nights of the year for Christians. The night of profound love. There's also a legend that if someone offers their soul to the Devil out of love in exchange for another soul, Lucifer has to renounce his claim on both souls."

Garrett nodded. He'd hoped she'd come to that conclusion, but she had to do so on her own. "There are no guarantees, though, Cat. If you do this, you could be damned for all eternity."

'Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Damned if you do and damned if you don't,' she thought to herself. "I'd have done anything to keep Bill from dying, and if giving my life in his place would've saved him, I'd have made a deal with the devil myself back then. Such a hand wasn't dealt me then, but it's before me now. I'm gonna play this garbage hand I've been dealt and bluff like a wild MF."

Garrett sighed in relief, "I knew you were smart and tough. I have another confession to make. "Tig told you a little fib. There's no club business. He's waiting on me at the clubhouse He'll be coming home in a little while. Neither of you will have any recollection that I've been here."

Cat eyed the made up couch, her wayward eyebrow rising inquiringly

"That won't be there in a few minutes. When you awake Christmas Eve morning, you'll remember this conversation. I'll come to ride with you to the meeting place. We'll see what happens then."

"And when should I expect you?"

"I'll be here just before noon."

"Don't tell me, let me guess. The meeting will be at high noon?" She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Showdown at high noon sounds like an old western!"

"Ironic, isn't it?" Garrett replied. He stood up and gestured at the couch. The bedclothes floated from it and returned to the cedar chest in the bedroom. The pillow, which was covered in a dark red case with a picture of Gerard Butler as the "Phantom of the Opera" settled back to its' place on the head of the bed next to its' twin.

Cat felt the air around her grow cold. If felt as if an arctic clipper was moving through the house, chilling her to the bone. Misty hissed, fluffed her tail and ran from the room. Garrett's coat whipped around him. She didn't recall when he'd put it on.

"I wish you well, Cat. I hope this works for all of us. If ever there's a time for a Christmas miracle, this is certainly it."

The door swung open, and the cold air rushed out of the house as Garrett vanished and the door swung closed again. In moments, she was warm again and all was quiet. Misty was laying in her lap, purring contentedly.

'Damn. Fell asleep reading again,' she thought to herself. 'Getting to be a habit.' She noticed that Alex's Harley was gone and remembered he'd been called away on club business. She figured he'd be late again, and went about her evening routine, leaving the living room lamp on and turning on the front porch light. She retired to the office for a little computer time before bed.


Trager was bewildered. He could have sworn he'd been called out to the clubhouse, but Clay wasn't there. The only people around were the guys that hung out there because they had no where else to go.

"What brings you out here, Tig? Finishing up a little Christmas shopping?" Happy asked.

"Yeah," Tig replied absently. "Just thought I'd stop in and make sure things are O.K. See ya later."

He walked back to his bike and rode home. Weird. The last thing he remembered was telling Cat he would be late and not to wait up for him. She'd certainly be surprised that he was getting back earlier than anticipated. He could remember going to the store and spending time with her while she closed, but there seemed to be a gap in his memory, as if he were missing some time.

He pulled into the drive and parked next to the Yamaha. He looked around the front yard, but nothing seemed out of place. The porch light was on, as was a lamp in the living room. He walked into the house, making sure everything was secure. It was his usual night time routine and gave him a measure of comfort.

The cats were curled up on the bed, but there was no sign of his wife. It was still early evening, much too early for her to be asleep. He found her in the office, working at the computer. She was posting on her personal Facebook page. He crept silently behind her chair, bending down to nuzzle her neck. He was rewarded by her hand reaching back to caress his face.

"It's a good thing I can sense when it's you," she teasingly admonished him. "Sneaking up on me could be hazardous to your health!"

"So I like to live dangerously," he replied, kissing the palm of her hand.

"You're home early. Everything O.K?"

"Yeah, it was just a false alarm."

"Huh. Go figure. It's nice to have you home, though."

"You gonna be long on that thing?"

"Not too long, just finishing up a few posts. Wanna stay and keep me company?"

He sat cross legged on the floor next to her computer chair, his arm across her leg. As she worked on the computer, his hand started to roam about, making it difficult for her to concentrate on her typing.

"Do you mind?" She asked, moving his hand away from her more sensitive areas back to his own lap.

"Not if I can help it, you should know that by now," he replied with a lecherous grin. "After all, baby, would you rather spend an evening with that cold computer, or my hot self?"

She turned around to face him. "When you put it that way, you win every time."

He stood up and reached across her shoulder to turn off the computer tower. "Consider yourself logged off for the night."

"And what do you intend to do with all this extra time," she asked, the impish grin he loved so well on her face.

"Come with me, and I'll show you," he replied, taking her by the hand.

"Ho, ho, ho! I do believe Christmas is a little early!"

He grinned at her and grabbed his crotch, "Yeah, and I got your present right here, baby! It's all yours, if you've been a good little girl this year."

"So is that thing tied with a bow?" She yelped and ran to the bedroom when he immediately unbuckled his belt and started to unzip his jeans. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" She cried out as he backed her to the bed.

It was the night before Christmas Eve, and Charming Pawse had closed for the day, but any passers by wouldn't have known it. The staff Christmas party was taking place. Cat had brought in party trays from the local deli, and the staff and the MC mingled like old friends. Her staff had taken well to the Sons having a partial interest in the shop, as the MC didn't get involved in the day to day operations. In return, the staff and the shop were well protected, as there was usually one member handy during the day to ward off trouble.

The stereo system had been playing Christmas music all day, but the staff wanted to have their own karaoke time. She set up the system and let the staff and the MC have at it. Naturally, Bobby 'Elvis' Munroe performed 'Blue Christmas' Pete and JR performed 'Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth' as it had been performed by David Bowie and Bing Crosby. Miss Anna did a sultry Eartha Kitt version of 'Santa Baby' and Chibs surprised everyone with a true Celtic carol.

Everyone took a turn, except for Trager, who stated he couldn't carry a tune and didn't want to embarrass himself trying. Eventually, they talked Cat into a song, so she chose a not so familiar tune from her Michael Crawford CD, called 'Scarlet Ribbons'. There was no karaoke version of the song, so her selection was a sort of duet with the singer.

"I peeked in to say good night/And then I heard my child in prayer/'And for me some scarlet ribbons/Scarlet ribbons for my hair'/All the stores were closed and shuttered/All the streets were dark and bare/In our town no scarlet ribbons/Not one ribbon for her hair/Though the night my heart was aching/Just before the dawn was breaking/I peeked in and on her bed/In gay profusion lying there/Lovely ribbons, scarlet ribbons. Scarlet ribbons for her hair./If I live to be two hundred/I will never know from where/Came those lovely scarlet ribbons/Scarlet ribbons for her hair."

After the song ended she said stated in a soft voice, "I like to think this reflects the magic of the season. Sometimes when things seem impossible, the impossible comes true after all. This song can remind of us that when we're faced with obstacles in Life."

She then went to the tree and passed out gifts for her staff and the club. In return, Pete and Prospect presented her with a very large, gaily wrapped box. She hadn't expected anything from them, and was touched that they'd somehow gotten together with the club in order to get her something.

"C'mon, Cat! Open it!" Adrian called out.

She noticed that no one had opened their gifts, and she had a feeling they weren't going to until she opened hers. She tore into the paper to reveal a large box. "Aw, how sweet! I always wanted a box!" She was joking with them while she used her boot knife to pry open the large staples. She opened the box to reveal an ocean of black leather under a layer of white tissue paper . "Oh, my!" She couldn't think of anything else to say and was completely overwhelmed. She couldn't even remove the gift from its' box.

Trager moved forward to take the coat from the box and held it out for her to try on. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and he drew it up over her shoulders. The coat hung just below her waist so she could wear it on the bike, and had plenty of zipper pockets.

She turned around to face her husband and said huskily, "Somehow I have a feeling you had something to do with getting the measurements. It fits purrrfectly."

"I wouldn't trust that job to anyone else," he replied. "You like it?"

"I love it," she replied. She did a twirl to show it off. "Thank you, all y'all did great."

The staff and riders then tore into their own presents, each one selected for that individual based on what Cat knew of their personalities and interests. Everyone was pleased with their gift and made their pleasure known to her.

With the gift exchange, the party was officially at an end. She had plenty of help to clean up. As she closed the door and turned off the lights, she said, "I hope y'all have a great Christmas, and enjoy your own gifts. Be safe goin' home." She locked the door and turned off the 'open' neon sign, but left the twinkling lights on the tree turned on for the duration of the two day holiday. She wasn't worried about overload. The lights were brand new, and were the LED type that used less energy, plus she planned to check on it from time to time.


Christmas Eve Day dawned sunny but cooler than usual. The MC would be delivering the toys, clothing and food they'd collected. The toys and clothes were wrapped in bright paper and the food packed into shopping bags and loaded in the van. The van sported a red nose on the grill and reindeer antlers on the roof.

Cat had risen early that morning. True to Garrett's word, his visit and her appointment with him later in the day came back to her, along with the reason for the appointment in the first place. It hurt to recall that Alex had pulled the trigger that killed Donna. But she also recalled the reason why he'd done it. When Garrett had told her of Alex's involvement she'd accepted it as a matter of fact. She could do no less now that her memory had been restored. That didn't keep her heart and soul from hurting for him.

While Alex and the cats slumbered, she recorded a message on the digital recorder for him. She explained why she'd taken his place, effectively willing all her belongings to him. She had to stop the recording a few times because she kept getting emotional. She needed to keep her voice strong and her expression calm throughout the message. The reason for it would be difficult enough for Alex without her going to pieces in front of him.

"I know we don't say what's in our hearts and minds very often. Most times it doesn't need to be said. The things we do say more than the words we speak. I'm proud that you chose me to be your wife, and that I had the chance to get to know who you are, and not just the facade you present to the world.

"I've loved you since the day we met. That was never said to you often enough, and that's the only thing I regret. Be well, love, and take care of the fur babies, as you're all they have left. I'll see you when I see you."

She put the disc in a box and placed it where her note said it would be. There would be a few things she'd need to do before she left, but that was while Alex and the MC were making their deliveries.

She kept an upbeat and happy facade during breakfast, but it was a difficult act to maintain. She'd made french toast and her Frosted Plains blend coffee. She gave the cats their traditional duck flavored cat food in recognition of the holiday. From time to time, when she thought Alex wasn't looking, she would brush a tear from one eye or the other.

All too soon the time came for Trager to head for the garage. This was going to be the toughest test for her. She wanted to hold him close and not let go. If she did that, he'd know something was up. His memories of Garrett's visit were still suppressed, and she needed them to stay that way.

She kept her voice light and airy. "I'll meet you there in a little bit. Just gotta finish brewing Chibs' tea."

"OK, babe. Are you sure having Clay dress as Santa Biker is such a good idea?"

She nodded. "It'll look good to the community, and the kids will get a kick out of it. It's just the one day. At least y'all aren't wearing elf costumes, though I think it would be cute to see all y'all in tights. Some of y'all have sexy legs," she grinned, eyeing his own black denim clad legs.

He glared at her in mock indignation. "I don't care what the guys in that Mel Brooks movie said, manly men don't wear tights!"

"Tell that to Joe Namath, he wore panty hose for years!"

"I'm not a football player, nor an archer or a merry man, so no thanks to the tights. Too constricting, if you know what I mean," he replied, sweeping her into a warm embrace.

"Yes, I get your drift," she replied, returning the embrace. She playfully swatted his butt and added, "Now get on out of here so I can get things done. I'll see you in a bit."

He kissed her goodbye and walked out the door. Before long, the Harley's engine had roared up the street towards the garage and clubhouse.

She finished brewing the tea and loaded the PT with the brewed coffee, tea, cups and foodstuffs from the store. While the snacks were leftover from the previous day's sales display, the muffins, scones and cookies were still fresh and good. She didn't figure the guys would mind day old homemade baked leftovers.

She drove out to the garage, recalling the last time she'd delivered coffee before a charity run. At least this one wouldn't end up with Alex in the custody of bounty hunters. She was glad that the guys had this business to attend to. It would keep him busy and make her departure that much easier.

She pulled the PT into the parking area, smiling at the sight of the Harleys lined up and ready to go. She had her camera with her in order to take pictures of Santa Biker and the Harleys, which were adorned with reindeer antlers.

She'd purchased some reindeer antlers for the guys, in hopes they might be persuaded to wear them in lieu of elves' caps, which would've blown off in the wind. But, the antlers were actually headbands that would stay in place and the guys outvoted her on that one. The antlers on the bikes were as far as they were willing to go where decorations were concerned.

She set up the refreshments at one of the picnic tables and called the guys over. They came over to get their drinks and food, and all wished her a Merry Christmas, admiring all over again the fit of her new jacket. Alex didn't leave her side as she doled out the refreshments.

When Chibs poured out his second helping of tea, she took his arm and asked him to take a walk with her. Trager started to join them, but she squelched that move with a simple request. "Love, could you watch the table so stuff doesn't blow away? I just need to speak with Chibs here about something. It'll only be a moment."

She took the other rider's arm and they walked towards the street. Once out of Trager's hearing, she said softly, "I need your help with somethin' Filip."

"Wut's up, lassie?" He knew this was serious business. It was the only the second time since he'd known her that she'd used his given name.

She removed an envelope from her inner coat pocket and handed it to him. "I'm havin' to make a trip today. It came up suddenly and Tig doesn't know anything about it. I might not be allowed to return."

"Wut's goin' on, lass? Are ye in danger? Is it those League assholes?"

She shook her head. 'No, darlin', nothin' like that. The danger is that Tig could lose it if I don't return from this. I might as well confess that we've been married for some time."

"Aye," Chis replied, his eyes lighting in with comprehension. "Losin' you would be quite a blow to him."

"If I'm not home by midnight, I won't be home at all. That's when you need to follow the instructions in this letter. Please say you'll watch out for him tonight."

"Why me, Lady Cat? He's closer to Clay than anyone else in the club."

"I know, but I don't see Clay bein' able to give him the kind of support and understandin' he'll need. You're Celt. You can be more understandin' and insightful, as this has more to do with the supernatural and spiritual than the earthly."

"What in the Hell are ye talkin' about, lass?"

She winced at his choice of words., even though they were appropriate under the circumstances. "I have an appointment with a type of bounty hunter today, about Tig. It's not the type of bounty issued through earthly courts. The appointment is with a Ghost Rider who is taking me to meet the Devil. I'm going to offer my soul up in place of Tig's."

Chibs looked at her in astonishment. He didn't know what to say.

"I know, it sounds crazy, doesn't it?" She continued. "But when you really think about it, fiction has its' origins in reality. Look at how legends spring from real events, and sometimes those legends get embellished."

"Aye," Chibs considered her words carefully. If he were hearing this from anyone other than her, he'd think they were crazy. Cat had Scottish blood in her, as well as Native American. Both people were very spiritual. He would hear her out. "It's amazin', Lady Cat, but I understand what yer sayin'."

She sighed with relief. "I hoped you would. Yes, the Ghost Rider was a movie and it's fiction. So is the legend of an ancestor of mine, Daniel Webster, who's rumored to have fought the Devil and won. Think of the Scottish belief of Saowen. When you consider that, it makes this seem less impossible, doesn't it?"

"Aye, lass. It does." Chibs turned so that he was facing her. "You really have to love him a lot to be willin' to take his place."

"We've had this conversation before, darlin'. I'm hopin' that the power of this day saves me. There's a legend as old as time - if one offers their soul in exchange for a guilty person, and that offer is made out of pure love - that person and the one who is damned are pardoned."

"But that's just a legend!" Chibs exclaimed. "How can ye put faith in somethin' like that?"

"Because this is the one of the holiest nights of the year, and I believe that good can always conquer evil."

"No one is deservin' of that kind of devotion, lass."

"Chibs, I've seen another side to Alex that most never see. I know his heart. He's not completely evil; the one I'm meeting is."

"I always knew ye had a gud heart, lass," Chibs replied, leaning forward to kiss her cheek as he stuffed the envelope in his inner jacket pocket. "I hope ye won't be offended if I pray this never sees the light of day."

"That makes both of us, brother."

They started back towards the picnic table, looking for all the world as if they were discussing a Christmas surprise.

"You really think ye have a chance?"

"I have hope, Filip. I have hope and faith in the reason for the season. If I'm wrong and 'ole Scratch doesn't play by the rules then it is what it is."

They'd reached the picnic table by then. Trager watching them with a stern expression on his face. "I was beginning to wonder about you two," he growled.

"Just a little holiday talk, love. Nothin' for you to get all green-eyed about," she replied, slipping her arm around his waist.

Chibs gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek again. "Happy Christmas, Cat. I hope to see ye later." He turned and walked away to his bike.

"Of course he'll see you later," Trager remarked. "You'll be meeting us at Clay and Gemma's. His brain must still be a little muddled from the explosion."

She knew he was referring to the booby trapped van that exploded and sent him to the hospital with a severe head injury a few months earlier. "I suppose so," she replied quietly. "Are y'all about ready to ride?"

"Yeah, except for one thing. I want to give you a Christmas Eve present," he replied. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a sprig of mistletoe. "You kept avoiding the one in the store, and didn't put one up at the house. There's no getting away from it now. I've never kissed a woman under the mistletoe. . .until now."

He held the sprig over her head and drew her into his arms, melding his lips to hers. Unlike the last charity run, none of the riders made a sound, as if they recognized the significance of Tig's gesture.

Cat's eyes threatened to spill over with tears at this very public gesture of his love for her. There was no joking around this time. He meant it to be something special.

When he released her from the kiss, he held her tightly to him, and whispered, "I don't say this, but I've meant it every day. I love you Catarina." He released her and walked to his bike.

She turned to watch him climb into the saddle and adjust his helmet. She gave him a little wave and smile, then loaded the back of the Cruiser while the Harleys roared away on their errand.

She drove back to the house to complete the remainder of her 'to - do's' before Garrett's expected arrival. She spent some time with the cats, playing with them and grooming them, letting them know she loved them. She filled their kitty stockings and filled Alex's stocking with king sized Snickers bars. She then put his presents under the tree. She didn't put out the ones that had come in for her. It would hurt him to see them and know she'd never open them.

She called her father to wish him a Merry Christmas and to remind him that they wouldn't be available that evening for a call.

"Thank you in advance for the presents," he said. "I'll be taking your Mom's up to her tomorrow, and Danny will be in after all."

"I'm glad to hear that. I hope all y'all have a good holiday."

"You be sure to give Alex a hug for all three of us. And be sure he gives you a hug for all of us as well!"

"You're making sure we keep busy, aren't you?"

"You know you two enjoy it!"

"Merry Christmas, Daddy. We love you."

"Love you too, kitten. Merry Christmas."

She considered calling her best friend and her godchild, but it was just too much for her to bear. Besides, there wasn't any more time, as she heard a Harley pull into the drive. She met Garrett at the door.

"Are you sure about this, Cat?"

"I'm sure. You said it would all come back to me, and it did - in spades. If this gives Alex a chance later on down the line, whether I'm here or not, it's worth it."

"But it's not your debt to pay!"

"It's not all Alex's either, but I don't see anyone getting' their drawers in a wad over his circumstances, 'cept me!" She replied angrily.

"Because you're the one who is completely innocent!"

"That, my dear friend, is what I'm counting on," she said, on her jacket and gloves. "Let's get this over with."

She mounted Blackie 2 and started backing it down the driveway. As she reached the street, she stole one last look at the house. What she saw broke her heart all over again; Misty was sitting on the inner window ledge, her one eye gleaming like an emerald in the sunshine. She had lifted one paw in the air and was batting at the window, as if entreating her not to leave.

There was no turning back now. Garrett had started his bike. She followed suit and both motorcycles drove slowly towards the edge of town, in the opposite direction that the MC was riding.

Trager had an uneasy feeling as he settled on his bike and put on his helmet. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but something wasn't right with Cat. Despite the fact that she turned from the PT to watch them leave and was smiling and waving them off, her gaiety seemed forced.

Up until he awoke that morning, she'd been upbeat and excited about Christmas. He'd sensed a definite air of melancholy about her all morning, and felt sure he'd caught her wiping a tear from her eye during breakfast. He'd thought then it was just her natural light sensitivity acting up. Now he wasn't so sure.

When the riders returned to the clubhouse after making their deliveries, his stomach suddenly felt as if Ebony, the 20 pound cat, had jumped on it. He remembered Wade's visit just a few days earlier. He'd been supposed to leave with Garrett in order to even the score for killing Donna. All that had changed and he'd not remembered until it came rushing back to him.

He also saw a sudden and vivid vision of what his wife was up to. "Oh, no!" he moaned, laying his head on his handlebars. "No, Cat!"

A strong hand rested on his shoulder. "Aye. I'm afraid so, brother."

Tig lifted his face to his friend, his eyes reflecting his inner pain and turmoil. "She told you?"

"Only this mornin', Tig. There was no talkin' her oot of it. She's one determined lass."

"Dammit, Chibs! Why does she do this shit?"

"Because that's who she is. If she didn't do these thins, ye wouldnae claim her as yer wife."

Tig fought back tears. So he knew that, too. He wanted to track her down and bring her home kicking and screaming if he had to. But where in the Hell to start? If she was with Garrett, she could be hundreds of miles from Charming.

"There's a gud chance that she'll come home to ye," Chibs said. "There's a lot o' power in this day, y'know."

"Of course I know that!" Trager snarled. " I'm not a complete heathen!"

"She knows that. I'm not surprised by it. Yer hooman, even when ye act inhoomane. We should go to yer house. You'll be more comfortable there than here. It'll be the first place she'll go when she returns."

"You sound pretty sure that she'll come back," Tig replied bitterly.

"She's pretty sure of it. But she didn't want you to be all alone, nor to sit around the club getting soused."

"So she asked you to watch me, eh?"

Chibs shrugged. "Who else could she ask that wouldnae think she was nuts? I wasn't doin' much else today until the get together at Clay and Gemma's."

Chibs made a lot of sense, but how could he face going home if Cat wouldn't be coming back? No, that wasn't the right kind of thinking! There was someone or something making him panic. He'd taught Cat to take care of herself and she'd proven herself capable time and again. If she felt she was going to return, then he'd hold on to that idea for both their sakes.

"OK, brother, let's go." Trager started his bike and headed out of the garage drive, Chibs directly behind him.


Once they hit the highway, Garrett ignited his alter ego. Cat had to admit it was more impressive than the Hollywood special effects teams could deliver. Garrett's voice was as fiery as his presence. "I'm going to protect you, cause our ride is going to be very fast and take us very far. Unless you want to lose your breakfast, keep your eyes closed and your hands in your lap. Don't touch the handlebars and don't move until I tell you to."

She didn't know what to expect. A surge of sudden heat, perhaps, or a stiff wind in her face, but she actually felt nothing. She didn't even feel the motorcycle move beneath her. It was as if they were standing still with the motors running.

In a few minutes Garrett spoke again. His voice was back to normal, "OK, you can open your eyes now."

She looked around her. They were parked on hard packed sand. There was nothing to see for miles but sand, gravel, cacti and tumbleweeds.

"Where are we?"

"The proverbial middle of nowhere."

"Just as long as we're not in Mayan territory," she joked feebly.

"Well, it is called 'The Badlands', but it's not anyone's particular territory," Garrett replied.

"Sounds appropriate. So, it's high noon by my watch. Where's your boss?"

"Right behind you, Cat Trager," came a voice that she'd hoped to never hear again.

"Cory," she whispered, her spine stiffening. She refused to turn to look. "But you're not really Cory. You've just assumed his form, haven't you?"

"Very clever!" Lucifer replied with a laugh. "You are as smart as people say you are!"

"Why make yourself into him? I know that it's because we humans can't really assimilate your true form, or something like that."

"You're correct. And for the record, I do not have a tail, cloven hooves, horns, a red body or sleep with Saddam Hussein!"

"Oh, so y'all watch "South Park" in Hell. For some reason I don't find that very comforting," she replied.

"I took the form of Cory because it was most familiar to you, and one you most associate with someone who is evil."

"You hoped that using his appearance would unsettle me, didn't you?"

The Devil shrugged. "All's fair in this game, my lady. I'll use any advantage I can to win."

"Hmpf! If that's the case, why didn't you use Bill, or my mother, or even Alex?"

"Because you'd never believe they were working for or with me. As for Trager - you would never have bought into that idea. Cory was the most logical choice. I should have known your basic contrariness would rob me of an advantage!"

"Gee, so sorry to have tarnished your victory so early in the game," she replied sarcastically. "It must be real tiresome to have us puny mortals foul up your plans."

"The game isn't over," he replied coldly. Turning his attention to Garrett, he added, "Don't think you're getting off easy, Garrett. You should have taken care of business right away. By delaying the inevitable, you've made it harder for everyone involved. I'll still get what I want in the end."

"That remains to be seen, doesn't it?" Cat replied calmly. "So are we going to get down to business or flap jaws? It is Christmas Eve, y'know."

"I'm well aware of the date, Mrs. Trager. Not that it has any significance in the grand scheme of things. By the way, your devoted husband is certainly enjoying my Christmas present! I restored his memory of Garrett's visit, and he knows what you're doing. He's pretty broken up right now."

She closed her eyes against the pain she felt. She knew the Evil One was making her privy to what Alex was going through right at that moment. "I know he is, you bastard. But he's in good hands. I made sure of that."

"You fail to understand that this is not something you can fix like the hospital clerk in Chico. This is exchanging a Life for a Life. As long as I get a Life, there is balance. That's all that matters."

"Typical bean counter," she grinned at Garrett. "Always getting their drawers in a wad over one bean not adding up."

"Terrible thing, that," Garrett agreed.

She was deliberately goading 'ole Scratch'. She knew it was dangerous, but it was an age-old battle tactic. Make your opponent upset and you find the chink in their armour that much sooner and gain an advantage of your own. That advantage might give you a moment to draw a breath, to plan your next move, or to counter the next attack.

If Lucifer expected her to beg and plead with him on bended knee, he was going to be sadly disappointed. She'd already knocked him for a bit of a loop by refusing to take the bait on his opening salvo. She had to continue to press her small advantage while she could.

"So how we gonna go about this, old boy? Pistols at 20 paces? Swords? Slings and arrows? Rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock?"

"This war of words is getting very tiresome, though you gave it a good try. You simply come along with me, and Trager's debt is paid in full." The Devil held out his hand in invitation.

"You make it sound so easy. Nice and clean and neat. But aren't you forgetting some of the rules of the game?"

Lucifer scratched his chin as if in deep thought. "No, can't say as I have."

"Then let me refresh your memory," answered another voice, just as gravelly and fiery as Garrett's alter ego, but younger.

"Blaze," Lucifer sighed tiredly. "I might have known you'd show up."

"Blaze? As in Johnny Blaze?"

"The very same as in your movie, Cat." Garrett affirmed.

She turned to see the same Ghost Rider as in the movie. He was clad in black leather, metal chains across one shoulder. His skull and motorcycle blazed with righteous fire.

"Mrs. Trager," Blaze intoned. "You took an incredible chance that I would make it in time. You know Lucifer cannot be trusted."

"I know. But allowin' old 'Scratch' here to take Alex's soul before his time won't bring Donna back," she replied, turning the full force of her scorn on Satan. "Alex deserves the same chance every child of God has: to chose the course of his destiny."

"And what if he doesn't make a choice and just continues on his current course?" Lucifer asked scathingly. "You'll have wasted yourself for nothing."

"I don't consider it a waste," she replied. Her scornful expression turned to pity. "That's been your problem throughout time. You were one of the greatest archangels in Heaven. You may reign in Hell, but are you any happier?"

"You'll soon find out!" Satan roared, raising his hand at her. She ducked in an effort to avoid the physical and/or psychic blow. His appearance changed from that of Cory to his true presence. As she'd guessed, it was difficult for humans to truly describe the Evil One's real looks. No horror movie ever made could come close, despite all the wizardry of computer graphics and special effects.

Whatever Satan was going to hurl at her never connected. Blaze intervened, a stream of fire shooting from his open palm, knocking the Evil One onto his backside.

"I warned you before that anytime you tried to take innocent blood, I'd stop you. This is no different. The rules still apply, whether you like it or not. She is innocent, and she came to you of her own free will. She never even offered her soul in exchange for Trager's. By attempting to take her by force, you forfeit your claim on Cat's soul, and you forfeit taking Trager's life in exchange for Mrs. Winston's" Blaze's voice roared like thunder.

Lucifer rose to his feet, what amounted to his face flashing with hate. "This isn't over yet, Blaze. You and I are never through. You still have what belongs to me, and I will get it back. As for you, Garrett – "

"You can't do anything to him, either," Blaze interjected. "He, Cat and Alex are under God's watch now. Garrett atoned when he delayed taking Trager when you commanded. What happens now is between him and the Almighty. Now, back to Hell with you. You have no power here. And by the way, Merry Christmas."

Lucifer gave a mighty roar of anger and outrage that he'd been bested once again by Johnny Blaze. He'd been cheated out of another soul and was getting tired of it. Every time he made a deal, Blaze came around to undo it. Maybe he was going to have to revamp his method of obtaining souls. It was obvious that Blaze was intent on thwarting him at every turn, using the power he'd kept from the Devil as a tool. Lucifer burst into a tornadic cloud of black dust and disappeared.

"Whew! The old boy certainly knows how to make one Hell of an exit!" Cat exclaimed, rubbing dirt and grit from her eyes.

"That's one way of looking at it," Garrett agreed.

Blaze extinguished his fire, turning back to his human form. While he didn't resemble the actor who'd portrayed him in the movie, Blaze was well built, young and tall. He had a quiet assurance born of his experiences.

"Glad you made it in time, brother. You cut it kind of close," Garrett said, extending a hand to his counterpart.

"It was a bit deliberate. Mrs. Trager here has a tendency to go where angels themselves fear to tread. Maybe after this she'll at least stop to think before rushing in with eyes wide open."

"Hello! I'm right here!" Cat called out. "Quit talkin' about me in front of my back!"

"Sorry, ma'am, old habits die hard," Blaze replied.

"Apology accepted," she grinned. "It's not like I don't appreciate your timely intervention, but am I really that bad?"

"You give all of us unnecessary and extra white hairs sometimes," Garrett replied.

"So pardon me for soundin' a bit ungrateful, but can we go home now?"

"We can, and we'd better get started, " Blaze replied. "Afraid it's going to take longer to get you home than it did to get you here. We can't use our power."

"And how far away from home are we?" Cat inquired.

"About three hours," Garrett replied.

She sighed with relief. "We'll get home in plenty of time. I told Chibs that if I didn't get back by midnight, I wouldn't be home at all."

"There's something to be said about living on the 'Left Coast'," Blaze observed. "We'd best get going, as it'll be dark by the time you get home as it is."

"By this 'we' you keep mentioning, you're both riding with me?"

"Of course. We want to make sure you get home in one piece. The job isn't done until you're home safe and sound," Blaze replied, turning to his bike and mounting.

"Then let's ride," she replied, mounting her own and starting it. Three plumes of dust rose behind them as two Harleys and a Yamaha sped back to Charming.


Chibs had been right about returning to the house. It was better in the long run to be home than to wallow in fear and self-pity at the clubhouse.

As soon as Trager walked into the house, little Misty was his constant shadow, following him about from room to room. Whenever he sat down, she hopped into his lap demanding to be petted and comforted and effectively snubbing her friend Chibs.

"They're sensitive little things," Chibs explained. "She knows something isn't right and she's looking to her person's person for comfort. Jest leave her be. She'll coom to me when she's ready."

Trager scratched the little cat's chin in an effort to comfort her, and she did settle down a bit. Her tail continued to twitch as she watched the window.

He could tell that Cat had been busy before she took off to God only knew where. The cats' stockings were full, and the presents under the tree had increased in number from earlier in the swiveled the recliner around so he couldn't see the tree and the pile of gaily wrapped gifts. There was only one gift that he wanted, and he feared that gift wouldn't come his way this Christmas or any other.

Chibs retrieved a pair of beers from the fridge and handed one to Trager before settling himself in the recliner opposite his friend. They didn't speak, just sipped beer and watched the clouds in the sky.

A car drove slowly up the street, pausing in front of the driveway. Then it backed up and pulled into the drive, stopping behind the Cruiser.

"You expecting visitors?"

"Not that I know of," Trager replied. "Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them. They're probably just lost."

He handed Misty over to Chibs and walked to the front door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Dawn and Fawn come running up to him, their arms outstretched. Before he knew it, they had wrapped their arms around his legs, shouting "Merry Christmas, Daddy!"

He gazed at their tousled blonde heads, his hands automatically resting on their shoulders. He looked across the driveway to meet their mother's eyes.

"I hope we're not intruding, but Ms. Marshall invited us," the girls' mother explained. She held out an envelope as she approached.

He accepted it, removed the letter and glanced over the contents: "We don't know each other, and may not ever meet. I hope you'll accept this invitation for the girls to visit their father on Christmas Eve Day. I won't be around the house that afternoon. He will be at the house for a few hours. Please feel free to call me at Charming Pawse or email me. The directions are enclosed. I hope you'll allow him some time with them this Christmas. They're all missing out by being separated. Sincerely, Cat Marshall."

Trager knelt down to his daughters' eye level. They'd grown so much since he'd last seen them! He gathered both girls in his arms and held them close, tears streaming down his cheeks. The girls squealed with delight to be held by their father; their little arms going around his neck and holding on tight.

"I don't understand," he murmured.

"I didn't want the girls to be harmed by your lifestyle, so I deliberately kept them from you. When you started to send those letters to them with the payments, I realized how wrong it is to keep you from them. Then your lady sent this letter, and I spoke with her. We won't stay long, but the girls really wanted to see you today."

When his memory of Garrett's visit had returned, so did the fact that Cat had been sending the girls letters on his behalf. He should have known she wouldn't stop there. It was just like her to try to build a bridge in his relationship with his girls.

"Can we come in for a little, Daddy? It's cold out here." Dawn asked.

"Of course you can." He stood up, still holding the girls in each arm to go back into the house.

"Mommy too?" Fawn's little face looked concerned that they would leave their mother in the cold.

"I can go to the restaurant and wait for awhile," she offered.

"No, it's OK. Cat's invitation was to the three of you," he replied, his voice a little hoarse from the lump in his throat. He held the door open with his foot so the woman could enter ahead of him.

"Oh, you have company!" She stated.

"This is Chibs. Chibs, this is the mother of my daughters, and these are the daughters, Dawn and Fawn," Trager hastily made the necessary introductions.

Misty was still in Chibs' lap, though new people in her environment usually made her scurry away to safety. He indicated the cat on his lap as the reason for not standing. "Glad to get to know you. I'd stand, but my lap is occupied at the moment."

"Is that your kitty, Daddy?"

"She's my girlfriend's and my kitty," he replied, lowering both girls to the floor and helping them off with their coats.

"May we pet her?"

"If ye are gentle and quiet," Chibs replied, resting a comforting hand on the cat. "She frightens easily, so you have to be verra nice and gentle with 'er."

The girls tiptoed to stand besides Chibs' chair and reached out star shaped hands to Misty. She sniffed the proffered fingers, then rubbed her whiskers against the little pink hands in a demand for petting. The delighted little girls stroked the soft black fur and tickled the cat under the chin.

"She's purring!"

"That means yer making 'er happy," Chibs replied.

While the girls were entranced with Misty, Trager spoke quietly with the girls' mother. "Thanks for bringing them. They've really grown. You've done a good job with them."

She looked at him in surprise. Of all the things she expected him to say, that wasn't one of them.

"It's not easy raising children on your own these days. It's probably best that you have full custody. But I would like to be more involved in their lives, if that's possible."

"They need that, Tig. I know there's no chance for us. This lady of yours seems to be good for you in a way that I could never be. The girls miss you. Can you be a father to them without the club being a part of it, too?"

"Yes. I've had pretty good practice at keeping the club separate from my private life. They'll be safe."

It wasn't long before the girls' attention was drawn from Misty to the tree, and to the presents underneath. Trager momentarily felt ill at ease, as he'd not gotten anything for them.

"It's OK, Tig. Your girlfriend left a message for me this morning, there are some packages under the tree for them," their mother whispered. "You can say that Santa knew they'd be visiting and made an early delivery for them."

"She did that?"

The woman nodded. "You'd better hold onto this one, Tig. She's very special."

"You don't have to tell me that," he replied. He turned his attention to his daughters. "Guess what? It seems that Santa got word that you two would be coming, and he made an early delivery, just for you! Do you want to see if you can find your presents?"

The girls ran to the tree with delighted squeals. They had already spied a couple of small teddy bears, which bore tags with their names on them. There were two packages, one large and small for each girl. The small package had a tag that read 'from Santa', the larger was 'from Daddy'.

Trager felt his throat close over again at the thoughtfulness his lady had displayed for his girls. He knew she felt uncertain about doing anything for the girls for the holiday, but he'd never talked to her about it and hadn't done anything himself, thinking it would be useless.

Something other than Garrett's visit had made Cat determined to help him make things right with his girls. Whatever the reason, she'd made it possible for him to take the first step towards repairing his relationship with them.

He watched them tear into their presents and shriek with delight over their gifts. Not only were there teddy bears, but the girls had received stuffed animals resembling the Charming Pawse cats and they had a large assortment of coloring books and colored markers to play with.

Trager turned to the girls' mother and asked if she wanted a beer.

"No, I'm driving. But if there's coffee, I'll take some."

Trager had never made coffee, but he figured there was a first time for everything. However, Cat had beat him to it. She had cleaned the pot and set up the coffee maker for a fresh brew. Within moments, the aroma of her Frosted Plains blend filled the house.

"Your lady's coffee smells heavenly," the girls' mother remarked. "If it tastes as good as it smells, it's no wonder her shop is so successful."

"If ye think the coffee is good, ye should try the tay," Chibs replied.

"I'll take your word for it. Tea's never been my thing," she said. "But a good cup of coffee makes all the difference."

The girls were sitting at the dining room table with their coloring books, hard at work coloring pictures for their father.

Trager poured a mug of coffee for his former girlfriend and retrieved the creamer from the refrigerator. She took a sip and rolled her eyes to the heavens. "This is really good! Tastes like white chocolate!"

"That's why she calls it 'Frosted Plains' blend. She roasts and flavors the beans herself."

"You're really proud of your lady," she observed. "I'm glad. The girls will appreciate getting to know her. Between the three of us, we should be able to do right by them, don't you think?"

"I hope so," Trager replied. The one uncertainty was whether Cat would be part of the trio taking care of the girls in the future.


It felt strange to Cat to be riding alongside two Ghost Riders that were riding like normal bikers. Considering all she'd seen and done that day, finding her current situation strange had to fall into the oxymoron category.

The most important thing to consider was that Alex was safe. Not from the forfeiture of her life or soul or by the loss of his. Her act of selfless love had freed him. She had beat the Devil at his own game, just as her ancestor had done decades earlier. Of course, she'd had a little help that Webster didn't have.

Cat hadn't come out of the encounter entirely unscathed. When Satan had raised his hand in attack, a streak of hair on the left side of her head had turned white from fringe to the ends. She somehow knew that streak would never cover by a color rinse again.

Dusk was settling as they reached the outskirts of Charming. The trio sat on their bikes, looking out over the peaceful town. Church bells pealed as they summoned the faithful to Christmas Eve services.

Cat had come up with an idea concerning her homecoming, and she shared it with the riders because they played a large part in it. As it turned out, this would be Garrett's last turning. He agreed to it wholeheartedly, as he'd go out on a very bright note.

"Besides, it's Christmas," he added. "It's the least I can do, Cat."

"Alex remembers Wade's visit, doesn't he?" she asked Blaze. "I felt his pain and fear for a moment. That was Lucifer's so-called gift."

"Yes, he remembers everything about that visit, and he knows that you took his place today. He doesn't know that you're returning to him. Your friend Chibs has been with him as you requested. His daughters and their mother are there now. How did you convince their mother to bring them?"

She shrugged. "I just sent an invitation. The worse that would happen was that she would refuse to let them visit. I wasn't sure when we spoke this morning that she'd bring them. I'm glad she decided in favor of the idea."

"He's made it through the day," Garrett observed. "Let's not make him wait any longer."

"I'll agree to that!" she exclaimed, starting her bike and putting it in gear. They rode slowly through town until they reached her street. They turned off their engines and coasted the bikes to the end of her driveway.

She noticed Chibs' and Alex's bikes parked next to her Cruiser. There was another, older vehicle she'd never seen before in the drive. She instinctively knew that it belonged to the girls' mother. The visit was going well after all.

She parked her bike at the end of the drive, inserted a tape into the stereo and turned the volume up as high as possible without the music being distorted. Blaze and Garrett walked up and stood behind her, their clothes melding into white leather and jeans, their faces and bodies glowing brightly.

The opening bars of 'All Is Well' issued from her bike's speakers. Cat's voice joined with that of Michael Crawford's in the first verse: "All is well/all is well/Angels and men rejoice/for tonight darkness fell/into the the dawn of Love's light/sing al-le, sing al-le-lu-ia!"

As soon as he heard Cat's voice, Trager rushed to the front door. He had to see if what he was hearing was real, or his imagination. From the way that Chibs leapt from the recliner, it might not be his imagination, but he still had to be sure. His daughters and their mother pressed up against the front window as he wrenched open the door.

"Look Mommy! Behind the lady in black!" The girls exclaimed in unison, their small fingers pointing at the glowing figures behind the black clad woman in the driveway. "Christmas angels!"

Their mother wrapped her arms around her daughters. "Yes, babies. I see them."

"Is that Daddy's girlfriend?"

"I think so, babies. She looks nice, doesn't she?"

"Yes, Mommy.," Dawn replied, slipping her hand in her mother's and squeezing.

"She sings like an angel," Fawn added, pointing out the window again. "And look at the other angels!"

Trager skidded to a halt on the porch, Chibs just a step behind him. They were relieved to see Cat standing in the driveway. They shared the same thought. Was she back to stay, or was this some kind of message from beyond?

Trager recognized Garrett standing behind her. He didn't know or care who the other being was. All he wanted to do was to hold his wife.

Cat smiled at him and held out her hands in invitation, but she didn't move towards him. He started forward, but he felt as if his feet were stuck in drying cement. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. His hands touched hers and he drew her into his arms, enfolding her in a tight embrace, his mouth melding with hers.

'She's safe! She's real! It's no dream!' His thoughts tumbled over each other as they kissed and held each other.

The tape continued playing. Michael Crawford's voice was joined by other voices. Cat and Trager broke apart reluctantly to see what was going on. They saw Bill, her mother and grandparents, his own grandparents and mother that he barely remembered, his girlfriend that had been run over on the interstate years ago, and Donna Winston were standing behind the two Ghost Riders, lifting their voices in the next line of the carol: "All is well/all is well/lift up your voice and sing!/born is now Emmanuel/Born is our Lord and Savior/Sing Al-le, sing al-le-lu-jah!"

The angelic chorus grew louder and their forms grew brighter as the choir floated towards the heavens. Trager held Cat close to his side, never wanting to let her go. The Ghost Riders glided forward as the last words of the carol floated down, mixing with small white flakes of snow.

"God is now Emmanuel/Sing Alleluia/All is well!"

Garrett laid a hand on his relative's shoulder, while Blaze did likewise with Cat.

"Treasure each and every moment you have together. Make every moment count," they said in unison. "May you both enjoy a long and loving life together."

The pair turned and mounted their bikes. The choir was gone, replaced by a bright light that shone on the driveway, making the snowflakes sparkle like diamonds. The only evidence of the riders' presence that remained was the twin set of tire tracks on the snow covered street.