Summary: Life is short. But for some, it can also be long. It's the little moments you have to live for; the happy accidents and unexpected moments that manage to make you smile. Mitchell knows this best of all. A series of oneshots: in which Christmas shopping is always an ordeal.

I hope you all are doing well this holiday season! Ideas have been rolling around my head for this series for a long time. It's one of my favorite shows, and a thought occurred to me. What would Christmastime be like for our odd, yet lovable trio (plus Nina)? This first sketch may end up being more than one part, but it's set sometime in the beginning of season 3, after the first episode but before "Type 4."


~Serendipity~

Chapter I: I Can Hear the Bells

"Seriously, why do I even bother?" Mitchell said with a groan. "We've been here for hours, George. Even Santa and his elves have already left!"

He punctuated the remark by gesturing to the "Santa's Workshop" stationed in the center of the mall, where a mother was practically dragging a crying child from the "closed" sign in front of it. Though the lights curled about the white picket fence surrounding the photo op area still flashed, while the ornamental silver bells hanging from the cables jingled of their own accord.

"I'll be hearing those fecking bells in my sleep when this is over," he added.

"We can't leave. I haven't found it yet!" George replied vehemently. Mitchell gave an exasperated sigh and nearly pulled at his own hair in frustration.

"You're impossible, you know that? You're worse than Annie." George grimaced. No one was worse than Annie when it came to shopping. When she was more visible and tangible to normal humans, she was able to take up that barista job. Unfortunately for the rest of them, she was also able to go back into her routine weekly outings. It was with Mitchell's credit card more often than not, since it was rather obvious why she couldn't have her own. The problem with Annie was, since buying clothes wasn't considered logical (even if she was a former fashion study), she tended to buy things on the spur of the moment, things that caught her eye.

"Don't you like it?" she asked. George tried his best to cover a snigger at the expense of his best friend, who was attempting a grateful smile. He was holding the offensive object with the utmost care.

"It's…colorful, I'll give you that. Though I don't really wear watches," Mitchell said. Annie playfully hit his arm, though it was more of a gentle tap.

"Then you should start! Whenever George takes the car, you're always getting home so late because you miss the bus. I figured it was because you lose track of time."

"The cat is…cute," he commented, and ignored the restrained chortle from George. The ghost was just trying to do something nice, even if her attempts were a little…off on his tastes.

"Why does it have a dress on it?" George asked indelicately. Mitchell gave him a warning look.

"You've never heard of Hello Kitty, George?" Annie asked innocently.

While in truth, the gift had been a prank, that didn't explain the half dozen candles (that still have never been used), the fancy lotions and body washes (that she couldn't even use, but refused to return, forcing George and Mitchell to use them in her stead and making them smell like gardenias and other fruity aromas. Nina had no complaints), new bake ware they didn't need (though George secretly approved of), and several sketchpads and drawing utensils she bought when she decided to try her hand at artistry (due to all the free time she had). Now, of course, she couldn't go on her sprees anymore, but that didn't mean she couldn't wrangle Nina into a trip once in a while.

"No one is worse than Annie," George affirmed. Mitchell thought about it, and merely shook his head, not denying his words. His annoyance only built when the bells on the accursed fence started anew. Even from over twenty feet away, he could hear them ringing in his sensitive ears.

"That reminds me, I know what she got you," he teased, knowing it would eat at his friend for the next two days until Christmas morning.

"Aw, don't tell me that! You know how it grates on me."

George's brow twitched in annoyance when he heard the vampire snickering.

"Stop laughing!"

Mitchell dodged the swat to his arm with placating hands, though he couldn't help his amusement at seeing George's disgruntled face.

"We went out and got it three weeks ago, when normal people are wisely doing their Christmas shopping ahead of time."

"Well, forgive me if I want to treat my girlfriend to a Christmas she'll never forget."

They would have to be quick though. The mall would be closing in half an hour. He checked his watch and nodded to himself. For the umpteenth time, he racked his brain for some kind of idea. The woman was so hard to shop for, simply because she was so vague with her tastes.

"Can't you just make her some brownies and get it over with?"

George appeared scandalized, even as they turned the corner past the tantalizing smell of fresh pretzels.

"I always make brownies on Christmas. This has to be special," George sniffed. "I can't expect you to understand."

Mitchell lifted a brow and gave him a cursory glance.

"And why is that?"

"You've been in one committed relationship in all your life," he said, and interjected when Mitchell opened his mouth to reply, "and Lauren doesn't count."

Mitchell sighed, ignoring the painful stab George had unknowingly inflicted.

"There's a reason for that, George," he said pointedly. At this, George looked over at him and slowed to a stop. Mitchell did as well and played it off by slipping his gloved hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Sorry, I didn't mean how that came out," he said. Mitchell waved it off.

"No big deal…"

If he was honest, Mitchell was a little envious of George. Being able to have the kind of relationship he shared with Nina was something he wished was possible for him. There was a brief time when he thought he'd had it with Josie, but it was something that could never last. And Lucy…

He restrained another sigh.

Lucy was always a sham. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"What did you get Annie, by the way?" George asked. Mitchell's expression grew sheepish.

"Oh, come now, Mitchell. You just saved her from Purgatory," he said in a whisper, lest anyone overhear their conversation. "Tell me you didn't forget—"

"I didn't forget," Mitchell cut in swiftly. To George, he almost seemed offended. "How could I?"

At this, the vampire's eyes softened. There wasn't a time that he didn't inwardly cringe when he thought of that place, and didn't feel a pang of guilt that Annie—their gentle, happy Annie—had spent so much time there, lost and alone. There were things of Purgatory he would rather forget (memories of a long past, and the sight of blood to fresh in his mind). But the one moment when he finally found her and held her, so relieved that she was safe; that was the only memory he allowed himself to keep. To remind himself that Annie was back, and she was real, and she would never be taken from them again.

"I just haven't found the right thing yet," he said.

What do you get for a ghost anyway? In general, he wasn't the perfect gift giver, but Annie in particular had always been difficult.

In the past it had been handmade tea sets and mugs with colorful patterns (the finery tended to suffer when Annie became emotional), all received with the prettiest of smiles and a sheepish grin. Though this year it didn't seem…enough, somehow. Brownies wouldn't do either.

After a moment, George nodded with a small grin to himself, as Mitchell's gaze had gone far ahead of anything the werewolf could see.

Perhaps he does understand, then, he thought. Though he started, even did a double-take, when something caught the corner of his eye.

"Oh my god." Mitchell looked over at George in confusion. He was facing the opposite direction, staring with wide-eyed wonder at something behind them.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh my god."

Mitchell turned to look at what he was looking at, and grimaced.

"You've got to be joking."


Well, that's the part one of the first…oneshot, though by definition that doesn't make sense…oh well. Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought!