Author's Notes: This chapter is chuck full of some of my favorite crack ships from Bleach. I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to Lainybug07 for the three consecutive reviews - you made a rather rough day much more bearable! Thanks also to szayels for the review - glad you are enjoying the story.

I hope to update tomorrow, but am not sure if I will have time for the final edit.

Chapter Four:

And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that [Christmas] has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" ― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

The clock chimed loudly and his head ached almost as much as his heart. He was so tired. This night was exhausting him in a way he could not even begin to explain. He was weary, down to the marrow in his bones, and he wished it would end.

The laughter of a child disrupted his lament. Slowly he looked around, but saw no one. Closing his eyes again he wallowed in his sorrow. Yet the giggle sounded again, louder, closer this time.

"Who the hell is there!" he yelled as he sat up.

The bed shook and then a small child appeared - a little girl with green hair, wearing a white lace nightgown embroidered with red thread around the collar. On her head was a crown made from holly leaves and dusted with snow and ice, so that it sparkled in the dim light cast by the moon shining through his bedroom window. She smiled a lopsided grin and he saw that some of her teeth were missing.

"Please tell me you are not the second spirit," he groaned.

The child stood and danced around the bed, "The Ghost of Christmas Present, in the flesh."

She laughed as she began to bounce merrily on the mattress.

"Stop that," he yelled and then clutched his throbbing head.

"Ah, does the poor man have a hangover?" she laughed.

"You keep jumping like that and I may just puke on you, you little brat," he groaned.

She laughed harder. "Self control is a good thing…you should try it sometime."

He growled as he lunged for her. "You are fucking annoying."

"Oh such bad language from the drunken old man," she teased.

"I am not old," he shouted as he failed to grab her.

She stopped short and grasped his face in her chubby little hands. Peering deeply into his eyes she commented, "You may as well be. Your soul is worn out."

"Yeah, well I have not been having the best night," he shook his head free.

"You're fault," she jumped away and scurried out of the room.

He chased after her and came up short as he found her sitting at his dining room table. Christmas treats of every kind adorned the surface. She was gorging on sweets when he approached.

"I love Christmas," her voice was muffled by all the food crammed into her tiny mouth, "So much good stuff to eat."

"So are you just going to sit here and stuff your fat face, or is there some place we have to go?" he asked rudely.

She looked up and smiled. Gummy bears stuck to what little teeth she had.

"Yeah, yeah, always so impatient."

"The other spirit said his time was limited," he stated.

"And so is mine," she huffed, "But it doesn't mean I can't enjoy myself."

"At my expense."

"Oh my God, you really are a Grinch," she complained as she hopped down from the chair.

"I just want this over with," he crossed his arms and glared at her.

"Fine," she stomped her foot and the room swayed.

He fought the nausea again and just when he thought he would throw up the motion stopped. He looked around. The room was unfamiliar and he questioned if she even knew what she was doing.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked.

She licked the last of the chocolate off her fingers and said, "You don't recognize this place?" She gave him a nasty look. "Of course you wouldn't. The woman has only worked like a slave for you for the last five years, but you would never have thought to pay her a social call, even at the holidays."

"Nanao?" he looked around the tidy apartment and spotted his secretary reclining on the couch, a newspaper in her hands, her bare feet currently receiving a massage from some guy with a beard. "I guess even Nanao can get lucky at Christmas."

The child kicked him hard in the shin. "That's her husband, stupid."

"Husband? That's impossible. Nanao is not married."

"She got married last June," the child sighed in exasperation.

He thought back to the previous summer. Oh yes; now he remembered. The event cost him a week of her expertise when she went away for her honeymoon.

"Okay so I forgot. Shoot me why don't you."

"Not so fast grouch," she laughed. "I still have stuff to show you."

"And these two have a lesson for me?" he asked.

"Look at them," the girl said.

Nanao read her paper while her husband continued to rub her foot. Suddenly he replaced his hands with his mouth as he made his way up her leg. On reflex Grimmjow shot his hand out to cover the spirit's eyes. His stomach flipped over. Watching his hard as nails secretary getting passionate was not what he wanted to witness.

Her husband stopped to tear the newspaper from her grasp. His lips then took hers in a rather deep kiss. Grimmjow closed his eyes, but he could not shut his ears to the sounds coming from the two.

"Please make it stop," he pleaded.

The spirit giggled as she forced his hand from her eyes.

"Shunsui," Nanao was breathless, "We haven't even had breakfast."

"You're all I want for breakfast, my sweet," the man crooned.

"Oh God please, make it stop," Grimmjow gagged.

Nanao shot the man a look as well, but it was obvious she loved her husband and his words were common endearments that she endured happily. The man moved his lips to her neck and she sighed at his touch.

"I feel like a pervert," Grimmjow said.

"Oh just shut up and wait," the child yelled. "You're ruining this for me."

"You're just a kid," he turned to her but was surprised that she looked a bit older. Her head reached his waist and her hair seemed longer. Hell, with all the weird shit going down this night it wasn't surprising that he had missed a few things.

His attention though shot back to the couple on the couch as Shunsui spoke again, "How about you call that boss of yours and tell him you're taking off the rest of the week and we head for warmer waters."

"Fucking slacker," Grimmjow spat. "I need her by my side. The week after Christmas is a nightmare of paperwork."

"I can't leave him this week," Nanao echoed his words. "There is way too much to do."

"I know you are valuable to him my sweet," Shunsui pouted, "But sometimes I feel like you're married to him and that job, rather than me."

This brought an unexpected snort from his secretary. "Grimmjow?" now she laughed in earnest. "Oh, God forbid. That man has no idea how to live."

"And my sweet Nanao needs excitement," the man kissed her collarbone as his hands went to the belt of her robe.

"I need a man who understands what it means to love with his heart," she stated.

Grimmjow was shocked. Not that he had ever entertained the notion of Nanao, as anything but a secretary, it was still odd to hear her say such things about him. And who would have ever believed the woman had a passionate bone in her body.

Shunsui laughed as he buried his face in the silk fabric covering his wife's breasts. "So let's go away."

"I can't."

"He had you all to himself on Christmas Eve…"

"And you have me all to yourself on Christmas Day," she ran her fingers through the man's long hair.

"I want more Nanao," the man looked up. "That man…I don't believe he even sees you as a person."

"I am his secretary," she reminded him.

"But you're still a human being," he grew serious. "Honestly I worry that if you continue to work for him, you'll grow just as cold and callous."

She smiled warmly and placed a hand on his cheek, "I have you to keep me from falling into that fate."

"Glad I can service you so," the man winked, "But seriously, maybe you should look for an employer that appreciates you."

Grimmjow clenched his jaw tightly. How dare that man try to take his secretary away; she was the best in the business and he would not let her go without a fight.

"He appreciates me," she whispered.

"Bullshit Nanao," her husband pushed up onto his elbow and stared at her. "He doesn't even give you a Christmas bonus…"

"He gives no one bonuses."

"Exactly," Shunsui said. "He's a miser and a selfish bastard."

"This man…," Grimmjow started.

"…is very honest," the spirit finished for him.

He glared at her.

"I don't need a bonus to know he is satisfied with my performance," Nanao sat up and pushed her husband off of her.

"Does he ever simply tell you?" her husband asked.

"I know," Nanao blushed.

"Leave him Nanao," Shunsui said softly.

"I can't," she rose to her feet. Glancing down at him she said, "Please don't ask me again."

The room swayed uncomfortably once more and Grimmjow clutched his stomach as the bile rose in his throat.

"Could you fucking warn me when you do that?" he yelled.

"But then it wouldn't be any fun," the girl spoke.

Yet she didn't sound like a child anymore. He turned to look at her and noticed she now came up to his chest. And the kid had breasts. Damn big ones.

"What the hell is happening to you?" he asked.

She twirled about. The nightgown now clung to her curves and she grinned, "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," she reminded him. "I am born on Christmas morning, grow older as the day progresses, until I pass away at midnight."

"Holy shit," Grimmjow blurted.

"It is my life," she smiled. "I bring joy and happiness to the world. That stuff takes a lot of energy," she winked. "Besides Christmas Day can only last but twenty-four hours. Yet I will live in mankind's heart all year long…so my life will not be so easily forgotten."

"Sounds like a load of horseshit to me," he replied.

This time she punched him hard in the gut.

"You are a mean man," she huffed. "Now let's get on with this, shall we?"

He looked around another unfamiliar setting.

"Your brother's fiancée's family's home," she said.

"That's a mouthful," he spoke absently as he looked at the huge Christmas tree that filled the room. Toshiro stood gazing at the lights and the ornaments.

"We never had a tree," Toshiro said wistfully to his fiancée. "My whole life – we either couldn't afford one or Grimmjow refused to waste the money on one."

The dark-haired girl rubbed his shoulders. "Your brother is a Grinch."

"He wasn't always like that Karin," Toshiro continued to look at the tree. "When I was young…he tried to make things right. Things just changed after he went to college…after he broke up with Orihime…"

"His loss," she remarked.

"It was," Toshiro agreed. "Still, he provided for me when dad died."

"He sent you to boarding school."

"It was the best prep school on the east coast," Toshiro turned and looked his fiancée in the eye.

"You were eight years old," she laid her hands on his chest.

"He left college early to turn pro so he could afford the tuition," Toshiro's voice was cold.

"True," Karin looked down. "I'm sorry, but it just infuriates me that he won't even share in your life now."

"He hates Christmas," Toshiro replied.

"How is it that you don't?" she asked.

His gaze turned thoughtful, "I guess I like the cold," he smiled lightly, "and I was born on Christmas," he reached for her hands and squeezed them, "And I suppose deep in my heart I believe that if God could send his own son to this world on this day, to be born into poverty, so that he could redeem our souls, then maybe there is hope for Grimmjow, as lost as he is now."

Karin only smiled in response and Toshiro spoke even softer. "It's been the hope of redemption that has kept me from falling into despair. And now," he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, "I have you."

"I love you Toshiro," she smiled.

"I love you Karin," he replied. Glancing back at the tree he said with a faraway voice, "Someday he'll come around. I have to keep trying. He's my brother after all, and even as hard as our life was he never walked away from his responsibility to me – and God knows he could have, in good conscience, on many occasions."

Grimmjow swallowed hard. The pain in his chest now burned. Toshiro should hate him. He had not given him anything that really mattered. True he paid for his education, and saved him from a life of poverty but what actually counted, what his mother honestly wanted him to give the kid, he hadn't even tried.

The room swayed again but he paid it no mind. His chest hurt far too much to even notice the nausea anymore. When the spinning stopped he looked around. They were now in a gymnasium. The room was poorly decorated in green and red streamers. People were busy blowing up balloons with helium, and others were setting up chairs.

"What now?" he asked wearily.

"The gift giveaway," the spirit replied.

Grimmjow glanced at her again only to notice that she now stood almost eye to eye with him; a woman close to his own age.

"Towards Tomorrow," he said with mounting anxiety. He could not do this. The pain of losing Orihime was too fresh in his mind to see her so soon.

"They're still going through with the event, even without presents," the spirit had grown serious as she aged.

"No one wanted to help," he stated.

"You were her last hope," the spirit replied, "But you know Orihime, she refuses to give up believing that someone will come through in the end."

"Idealistic fool," he muttered.

"She learned from the best," she replied.

"Sora," he gasped.

"He loved Christmas. By carrying on his mission, Orihime carries on a peace of his heart," the spirit reflected. "It was hard for her to lose him and so soon after losing you…"

He looked away. He had been so ashamed of his behavior that Christmas that he had not even bothered showing up at Sora's funeral six months later.

"So why show me this?" he asked with anger, "I refused to give her anything."

"Just watch," the spirit said.

He caught sight of Orihime as she dashed about helping with the last minute preparations. Her eyes were dark with purple smudges, but she smiled regardless. He was amazed, just as he had been as a kid, at how she could always show that smile, even in the worst of times.

"Those kids are going to be disappointed," he said.

"Yeah, I guess so, but then those kids need to learn that lesson. Better sooner than later so they can stop relying on others to provide for their futures," she spoke softly, "In this world no one really gives a shit about their dreams."

His words from earlier, spoken again, shamed him even more.

"You don't understand," he said knowing it was pointless to try and defend himself.

"No, I don't," she replied.

Her voice had lost its youthful lilt. Instead she sounded old, and when he gazed at her she was gaunt, her hair now white. Smiling sadly, her grin toothless once more, she said, "There are good people out there Grimmjow, people who carry my spirit in their hearts their entire lives. They don't calculate how their actions will profit them in this world. In fact they don't even do it to save their souls in the next. They care because they know no other way."

The shame he felt swallowed him whole. She smiled sadly.

"Heed my lesson, Grimmjow," she said as her body began to turn to ash and fade away.

He reached for her and awoke with a start; now back in his bed in his room.

"Shit, shit, shit," he shook his head. "Damn it!"

He sat looking out the window at the dark night.

If he hadn't hated Christmas before he sure as hell did now. What more did this horror of a night have for him he feared.

Suddenly the clock chimed and the room grew frigid. A dark, depressing aura fell upon him and he gasped for air. When he looked up a demonic figure stood before him. Horns sprouted from its head, and wings spread across its back

"Ah fuck, you're the third ghost aren't you?"