Author's Note: This was written for the annual Christmas Calendar on the Lauren Lane Fanpage, and it is my Christmas present to Season 5 CC Babcock, who deserved to have someone in her corner defending her. I'd like to thank Jilian (aFineMess5) for her help, and Charles Dickens for the idea I decided to butcher and parody. Merry Christmas, everyone!
A CC Carol by Kate811
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through CC Babcock's Park Avenue Penthouse, not a creature was stirring – both mom and dog were snug in bed, knocked out thanks to a hot toddy and a doggy sedative, respectively. A foreboding chill overcame the room, but CC didn't budge. A window burst open and the howling wind whipped through the curtains, and still CC slept. The lights began to eerily flicker, though CC remained blissfully unaware. Finally, as if the last straw, a slightly exasperated, booming voice echoed throughout the bedroom.
"CHASTITY CLAIRE, WE ARE HERE FOR YOU."
CC left out a soft snore and rolled over curling up into a ball on her side.
"Oh come on! Seriously?! I thought for sure that would work!"
"This woman could sleep through a tornado!"
"Looks like we're gonna have to try harder."
With a loud pop, three ghosts appeared in the dimly lit bedroom. They floated over to the bed and hovered directly over CC. With a quick nod they leaned down and screamed in her ear.
"WAKE UP, BABCOCK!"
That did the trick. CC's eyes popped open, though she was still in the dark due to the eye mask she wore. She let out a string of profanities that would have made even the filthiest truck driver blush and quickly sprang into action, shooting her arm out and rummaging around her bedside table blindly. "What the hell?! Who the hell do you think you are, breaking into my home?! I'll have you know I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!"
"I don't think a gun will really work on us, Miss Babcock," one of the ghosts said as they all shared a chuckle.
CC cursed again as she remembered her gun was still stored in her living room closet. She mentally plotted: the men sounded older; she was sure she could take them. So she put on her bravest face, turned over, and lifted up her eye mask…and was met with the faces of three ghosts. She promptly fainted.
When she came to, CC groaned as her vision cleared and the three ghosts were still floating over her, staring down in concern. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
The ghosts laughed, and one of them spoke up. "No, Miss Babcock, you're not dead."
"Then I'm dreaming."
"Pinch yourself."
CC complied, much to the relief of the ghosts who had heard stories of her caustic personality, and looked up at them in defeat when the pinch hurt. "Well, then I must have lost my mind, right?"
"Do you still think it's a bad idea for Mr. Sheffield to try to produce a hip hop/rap musical on Broadway?"
"Yes, but how did you know about—"
"Then, CC Babcock," a ghost interrupted. "I can assure you that you are the sanest person in your life."
"I'm not sure what that says about my life," CC muttered. "Alright, I'm not dead, dreaming, or delusional. What the hell are you doing here?"
The ghosts exchanged smiles. "We're here to show you—"
"Let me guess," CC interrupted, holding up a hand. "You're here to show me memories from Christmas past, Christmas present, and Christmas future?"
"Ah, so you've read the book! Or you saw the Muppet movie!" one of the ghosts said with a merry clap. "Yes, that's exactly why we are here: to show you that you're heading down a dark path and if you don't change it…you'll always be miserable and alone."
"How sweet," CC deadpanned. "I'm not doing this."
"We will take that as a 'yes!'" The ghosts exclaimed, and with a poof, all four were instantly transported from CC's cozy bedroom.
The ghosts gasped in awe at the sight before them; they knew CC was wealthy, but nothing could have prepared them for the grandiose mansion she grew up in, made even more magnificent by the gentle snowfall ensuring there would be a white Christmas.
"I see what you mean. What a miserable way to grow up," CC said faux-regrettably.
"You know what they say: money can't buy happiness," one of the ghosts said.
"That's just something poor people say to console themselves," CC replied.
The ghosts exchanged glances. The oldest-looking one bravely floated forward. "Let's take a closer look, shall we?"
"You must be The Ghost of Christmas Past," CC surmised.
Christmas Past nodded, and once again the group apparated, this time to the Babcock living room. An enormous evergreen was lit up in the center of the room, adorned with exquisite gold, red, and green ornaments and a mountain of presents underneath. A roaring fire blazed in the fireplace while a girl of no more than 12 (DD) and a boy no more than 10 (Noel) sat at a grand piano playing We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Stuart Babcock stood behind them, and in his arms was a 4-year-old CC, already dressed in her Christmas pajamas and fighting so hard to stay awake.
CC turned to Christmas Past with a raised eyebrow. "You're right. This is truly where my journey down a dark path began."
"Well, where's your mother?" Christmas Past asked nervously.
"Probably off in Paris with whoever her flavor of the month was," CC shrugged. "My parents divorced soon after I was born; though you must already know that." Christmas Past shot her a knowing look, and CC shook her head. "No. That doesn't mean I had some wildly unhappy childhood. Have you met my mother? She's a jackass. And sure, my father was busy a lot of the time, but this is one time he wasn't. He even gave Nanny Bobo the holiday off so it was just us. Well, us and the kitchen staff to prepare our gourmet meal, of course. And it was wonderful."
Christmas Past scratched his head, unable to figure out a reason for the scene before them to be miserable. The song ended and Stuart and CC cheered.
"Okay, children, time for bed!"
"But Daddy, I'm not sleepy," young CC said as she rubbed her eyes.
"Oh but Kitten, if you don't go to sleep, Santa can't come," Stuart said with a smile.
"Well then can we open a few presents before we go to sleep? I think it's the only way I'll be able to sleep," CC bargained, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"You're going to make a fine businesswoman one day with those negotiating skills," Stuart said teasingly and began tickling CC, whose infectious laughter was contagious.
"Come on, Dad, just a couple of presents!" Noel pleaded.
"Yeah, Dad, please!" DD added with her best puppy dog face.
"Well, okay, fine! But JUST a couple!" Stuart relented, setting CC down on the floor.
The children rushed to the tree, Noel and DD each grabbing a few presents they'd had their eyes on and tearing into them, while CC stood thoughtfully pondering her own pile of presents. Stuart crouched down next to her.
"May I make a suggestion?" Stuart asked and CC nodded. He handed her two small packages.
CC glanced over at her siblings; each picked the largest boxes in their piles to open. She turned back to her father, eyeing him skeptically.
Stuart laughed at the expression on her face. "Trust me."
With one final look of uncertainty at him, CC then focused her attention on the gifts and tore into the first box, gasping in awe as she recognized the signature Tiffany little, blue box and opened it. "My own pearl necklace! It's beautiful!"
"Yes," Stuart said as he fastened the necklace's clasp around his daughter's neck, "now you can stop stealing your mother's to play dress-up, and your mother can stop screeching at me when her jewelry goes missing."
CC grinned impishly, picked up the other present, and unwrapped it, revealing a picture of a horse. "Oh, I can hang this in my room!"
Adult CC laughed. "I still remember thinking I should have opened the biggest box instead because I knew it was going to be a dollhouse I wanted."
Stuart nodded, a knowing smile forming on his face. "Well, yes, you can do that, but it's not just a picture of any old pony, you know."
"It's not?" CC asked, her face scrunching up in confusion.
Stuart chuckled and tapped his daughter on the nose playfully. "No, Kitten, that's your pony."
The child's eyes grew wide as saucers and she let out an excited squeal, throwing her arms around her father.
Adult CC turned to Christmas Past, shaking her head sarcastically. "You were right. This was so traumatic. How terrible it is for a little girl to wish for a pony for Christmas, and then actually receive a pony for Christmas."
Christmas Past turned to the other two ghosts. "I don't understand! We must have picked the wrong year!"
"Yeah," CC added disinterestedly, "maybe you meant to do Christmas Day of this year, when I got the dollhouse and then we all curled up on the couch together and watched Rudolph. Truly a harrowing experience."
"Well there's not enough time," one of the other ghosts said, ignoring CC. "So let's just move on to my part. I'm sure I'll do a much better job of getting the message across to her."
"Let me guess: Christmas Present?" CC asked.
"No, I'm Christmas Future. We decided to switch it up. We think the lesson will be more valuable this way."
"Fine. Lead the way," CC said with an indifferent wave of her hand.
Once again, the group transported to another location. And once again, the sight before them took their breath away. It wasn't a mansion and there wasn't any snow. Instead, it was a posh beach house and palm trees swaying in the gentle, warm breeze.
"Not too shabby for a dark path that led to a miserable future," CC said, taking in the scene, unable to hide how impressed she was.
Christmas Future ran his ghost hand through his ghost hair. "This can't be right!"
"Not so easy to get the message across, is it?" Christmas Past said with a smirk.
"Well, are we going inside or not, people?" CC asked with an impatient tap of her foot. "I wanna see if I'm as miserable here as I was when I got the pony."
"We can't go inside this time," Christmas Future explained. "We don't want to give too much away and have you spoil your whole future for yourself."
"Well then what the hell is the point of this?" CC asked.
"Just go look in the window," Christmas Future snapped. "I bet you're sitting in a dark corner drinking a glass of whiskey alone because the whole point of this was to show you that if you keep up the way you're currently living, that's how you're going to end up."
CC rolled her eyes and cursed him under her breath as she stomped over to the window, though the scowl on her face immediately vanished and was replaced with a dazzling, victorious smile, hidden from the other ghosts as her back was to them. "You're right. My life is destined to be lonely and bitter forever!"
"See! I told you! Now if you'll just listen—" Christmas Future started triumphantly as he floated over to CC's side. "What the hell? This CAN'T be right!"
The other two ghosts rushed to their side. Christmas Past smirked in delight. Christmas Present rubbed his eyes tiredly, realizing it was up to him to salvage the night.
For through the window was a beautiful living room, a glorious tree decorated both with expensive ornaments and crafts made by children, and piles and piles of presents stacked underneath and throughout the room. There was no lonely, old woman drinking whiskey in a corner; instead, there was CC: now a beautiful older woman with her trademark blonde bob (though with a hint of silver) surrounded by people of all ages as they stood by a grand piano singing The Twelve Days of Christmas. The faces of the other people could not be made out, but the familiarity they exhibited with one another as they sang off-key and laughed with one another suggested they were a family.
"Gosh, I wonder what the most miserable part of all of this is for me…" CC said as she pretended to truly think it over. "Is it the fabulous beach house? Is it the fact that I'm surrounded by loved ones? Or is it the fact that I've still got it in my old age?"
"I…but…they said…you…" Christmas Future sputtered uselessly.
"I mean look at me! I'm a babe! I must have a damn good plastic surgeon! I wonder who…" CC trailed off as she watched her future self accept a glass of eggnog from an older man with gray, but slightly sandy colored hair. She couldn't make out the face but the broad shoulders and tanned skin were vaguely familiar to her, and she watched him lean in and whisper something in Future CC's ear. Future CC let out a cackle and grabbed him by the tie, planting a kiss firmly on his lips.
"Miserable. Just miserable," CC murmured, watching herself in awe. Future CC adjusted the man's tie, and the lights from the Christmas tree caught a flash on her left hand, where a diamond ring glistened.
"Let's get out of here," Christmas Future said with a sigh of defeat. Christmas Past patted him comfortingly on the back.
"CC? Are you ready?" Christmas Present asked. CC reluctantly tore her eyes away from the window and nodded. They transported back to CC's bedroom.
Immediately, the ghosts huddled together and tried frantically to think of a solution to their failed mission. CC ignored them and crawled back into bed, slipping her silk eye mask back on top of her head.
"Are you guys finished or what?" she asked impatiently.
The huddle separated. Christmases Past and Future threw their arms up in defeat and floated back towards the door. Christmas Present stayed put.
"Maybe…maybe…" he started, and CC rolled her eyes at his clear improvisation, "the past and the future…don't actually matter? Maybe…what matters is how you're acting right now," he finished with a confident nod.
"You know, you're right," CC nodded.
All three ghosts looked at her suspiciously.
"I am?" Christmas Present asked.
"He is?" Christmases Past and Future echoed.
"No. I just wanted to lure you into false sense of security for a moment. Please get the hell out of my apartment."
The ghosts visibly deflated.
"Well now let's not be so sure!" Christmas Present pressed on. "I mean there has to be a reason we were assigned you. You're clearly not doing something right! Maybe it's because you-"
"What? Maybe it's because I'm a successful Broadway producer worth millions who owns her own Park Avenue penthouse and has Christmas plans with the Kennedys tomorrow? Is that it? You know, you're right. That does sound pretty miserable. No wonder I'm destined to grow into a lonely old woman. Oh that's right," CC snapped her fingers. "I don't grow into a lonely old woman! I have it made!"
The ghosts exchanged glances.
"Shit, she's right," Christmas Past relented.
"I mean, let's face it: when you look at the facts, CC Babcock is basically perfection," Christmas Future added.
"I've often thought so," CC agreed.
"We must have gotten the wrong house," Christmas Past concluded.
Christmas Present shook his head. "No, it can't be that! The files all said CC Babcock. Her name was mentioned everywhere! How could we have gotten her mixed up with anyone when she was so prominent in the file?" He fished around in his pockets and pulled out the file, scanning through it quickly. "Oh."
"Oh? Oh what?" CC and the other two ghosts asked.
"We did get you mixed up with somebody," Christmas Present admitted sheepishly.
"Oh, please tell me who it is," CC pleaded with a wicked smirk on her face. "I'd love to know whose life actually is miserable enough to warrant a Charles Dickens-style visit from ghosts on Christmas Eve!"
"Oh, fine. It's the least we can do considering we interrupted your night for nothing. It's a Mr. Niles…Niles…I'm sorry, the last name seems to be smudged. Does that name sound familiar to you though?"
"It rings a bell," CC said feigning nonchalance, biting her tongue and hiding the pure, unadulterated glee that bubbled up from deep within her. "Well, you guys better get over there and save him from his pathetic, miserable existence. I trust you can let yourselves out?"
The ghosts nodded.
"Good. Merry Christmas," CC said through a yawn, slipping the eye mask down over her eyes, and settling back down under the covers.
"Merry Christmas, Miss Babcock," the ghosts called as they floated out of the room.
"It sure is," CC murmured to herself as she drifted off to sleep with a contented smile on her face.
The end! Merry Christmas!