Disclaimer: Neither Gundam Wing or The Christmas Carol are mine.

Yes, like this hasn't been done before, but we wanted to do it too.

Plotz and Ponder are ours, but I'm sure you'll notice a resemblance especially if you are a fan of the Muppets.

The madness continues….

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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

A sign pops out of the hat and smacks Plotz. What the hell?

Oops, sorry. Wrong Dickens. Where was I?

GHOSTS, you lop eared poof tailed varmint!

Ahhh, yes. Ghosts. Well, then, dear readers, Rashid was dead to begin with.

The sign smacks him again. WE KNOW THAT! It flips over: Quatre is in his house and the flame turned an eerie blue!

Right. Got it. Eerie blue flame…

Quatre blinked at his fireplace. Well, there was something he hadn't seen before.

"Quit acting so goddamned jaded! There are lots of things you haven't seen before!" A familiar voice snapped. An even more familiar looking head popped out of the flames.

"Rashid?" Quatre choked. "What are you doing in the fireplace?"

"Some damned fool read too much Harry Potter." Rashid stepped out of the flames, settled his chains and took the seat opposite Quatre.

"Um, not like it isn't good to see you, Rashid," Quatre started. "But you've been dead for the last two years. It's a little late to come and visit."

"It's almost too late for you, Master Quatre! That's why I'm here!"

"I'm not 12 anymore Rashid. This isn't past my bedtime."

"No," Rashid snapped. "I meant late, as in the late Quatre Winner."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"Well, yes."

"It's not a very good one, is it?"

"ARGH!" Rashid surged to his feet and shook his chains at Quatre. "You are supposed to be scared, damn it! I just showed up out of the blue…"

"The flames were a nice touch."

"Thank you." Rashid blinked. Damn it. Sidetracked again! "Argh! I'm a ghost damn it!"

"Look, Rashid. It's not like I haven't seen you wrapped up in chains before. Not to mention the fact that I am fairly certain that you are not really here. You are just a figment of my tired imagination."

"Why don't you trust your senses?"

"Because the littlest thing can upset them. Like Zechs and his hallucinogenic wreath, for example." Quatre smirked.

"That wasn't a hallucinogen! It was filled with holiday spirit."

"Ah, that explains it. He sprayed it with alcohol. I'm surprised you aren't pink on top of it all."

"Quatre! I am being serious! These chains I'm wrapped in were the ones I forged in life, every time I was mean to someone, every time I foreclosed on a mortgage, every time I kicked a kitten, every time I hid Abdul's sunglasses, I created another link."

Quatre sighed. "Those were happy times. What are you talking about? Chains always were your thing. Don't you remember the time with…"

"NO!" Rashid decided that subtlety was lost here, and just cut to the chase. "Quatre, you are a mean, horrible bastard. If you don't change, you are going to be condemned to haunt this world like I do, wrapped in chains…"

"Wrapped in chains isn't bad…" Quatre muttered.

"Forced to be forever by my side!" Quatre turned pale.

"NO! Anything but that!"

"Tonight, you will be haunted by three ghosts. The first one will be here when the bell tolls one."

"One? One AM? I need my beauty sleep!"

"Quatre, it's way too late for that."

"Shut up, you jealous prick."

"You may be pretty on the outside, but inside you are rotten. We are going to fix that." Rashid smiled terribly. "See you, master Quatre. Don't forget… when the bell tolls one…"

And the ghost vanished. The flames returned to their natural orange color and all was as it had been before.

That wasn't much of a ghost. He wasn't even scary.

Oh, just wait, Ponder. The worst is yet to come…

You aren't going to stop here are you?

No, why?

Whew. That last sentence sounded like a cliffhanger.

We could…

Don't you dare! I want a scary ghost!

You got it.

Quatre climbed into bed, pulling the bed curtains tight. If he was lucky, he'd just be able to sleep through the rest of the ghosts.

Though the idea of spending eternity with Rashid was pretty awful…

Quatre closed his eyes and told himself firmly to go to sleep. This was all just a bad dream anyway. Might as well get some rest during it. He fell asleep.

WHACK! The bed shook.

Quatre sat up and rubbed his eyes. What the hell? Why was his bed shaking?

WHACK! The bed shook again.

"GET UP! YOU MISSED IT!" A furious voice yelled on the other side of the curtain.

"Missed what?"

"The bell, you infidel! It tolled one a whole minute ago!"

"So, it's 1:01?"

"Yes, and you're late!"

"This isn't going to be another bad late as in the late Quatre Winner joke is it?"

"If you don't get your ass out of that bed it will be! I will skin your dishonorable hide from your body and use it as a towel! GET OUT HERE!"

Whoever it was sounded really really grumpy. Quatre decided that it was in his best interest to comply.

"All right, all right. I'd hate to have you bust an artery and keel over- again."

Quatre threw back his curtain and took a good look at his first visitor. A young transparent Chinese man stood there, hair firmly tied back in a neat ponytail, a very large wooden sword held threateningly in one hand.

"There you are. Touch my sword."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Touch my sword," the other repeated.

"Like hell I will. Are you sure you haven't confused me with my nephew? A man's sword should only be touched by himself." To Quatre's surprise the other nodded.

"Exactly! It is dishonorable…Wait a moment," the large sword swung down in front of Quatre's face. "I meant this sword!"

"You mean this stick."

"It's a sword!"

"It's a stick!"

WHACK!

"Fine. Whatever you say." Quatre rubbed his head and frowned. "I'll touch your sword. But that is all I'm touching!"

Quatre put his hand on the apparition's wooden sti...uh, sword.

There was a tremendous flash of light and Quatre found himself standing in a garden.

"Do you know where we are?" The ghost of Christmas Past asked him.

"I'm not an idiot. This is my parents house." Quatre blinked. "Though I admit that it's odd, since I had the place demolished five years ago."

"We are in the past. My job is to show you your past Christmases and see if you can figure out how you became such a miserable bastard."

"At least I'm not a ghost with a big stick!"

WHACK!

"Ouch!" Quatre rubbed his head and then took a swing at the ghost's mocking expression. His hand passed right through the apparition. "Damn it! How come you can hit me and I can't hit you?"

"Corporeal punishment."

"That's a bad pun."

"Shut up and watch."

Three children, in their early teens, came running out to the garden. The two older girls had their arms around the third, a boy with tears running down his face.

"I don't want to take over the business!" The boy sobbed. "I don't want to be a miserable bastard like Dad is!"

"You don't really have much choice, Quatre darling," the oldest girl said. "Dad wants you to marry your niece Relena and take over the business!"

"But I don't want to marry Relena!" The boy protested.

"Why not? She's pretty and well connected."

"And enjoys tormenting small children!"

"Now, now Quatre that's just a rumor." One sister said soothingly. "Alleged child torturer, nothing's been proven yet."

"But what about the livestock?"

"Shush, now you're being silly!"

"Besides, what will you do instead then?" The other girl asked.

"I'll run away and join the circus!"

"Oh come on now," the oldest girl said scornfully, "what would you do at a circus? Feed the lions?"

"Irea was always such a bitch," the older Quatre growled. "I'm glad I had her declared insane and locked up in that mental institution."

"Women are difficult." The spirit agreed, much to Quatre's surprise. He almost expected another whack with the sword.

"QUATRE!" A voice called from the doorway. A young teenage girl in pink stood there. "Come in darling! I've come to spend Christmas with you!" She waved a small sprig of greenery over her head. "Zechs and I are playing the mistletoe game!" Behind her, Rashid, carrying an armload of chains smiled encouragingly.

The younger Quatre made a strangled sound and ran.

"Huh," the older Quatre said as the younger ran right through him. "You'd think I'd remember that."

"Running away from your chance at love?"

"No, I meant that this was only about 10 years ago. Why did I forget that I was engaged to Relena?" Quatre shivered. "Must've blocked it out somehow. I wonder why?"

"Well, let's go see where you ended up. Maybe it will jog your memory." The spirit waved the sword at him. "Touch my sword."

"Oh no, can't we just walk after him...uh... me?"

"TOUCH IT!"

"I'm doing this under protest, I'll have you know."

Once again, there was a flash of light.

Why are we repeating special effects? Can't we do better than a flash of light?

We already used the fade.

They found themselves standing in front of a few patched looking tents in a clearing next to a dusty road. The younger Quatre was talking to a young man dressed as a clown.

AAH! CLOWN!

Clowns?

Clowns scare me!The hamster vanished into the hat.

But clowns make people laugh!

A sign appears, smacking Plotz in the headCLOWNS ARE EVIL!!

Okay, okay, I'll tell you when he's gone.

"So," a young man with a familiar hairstyle smiled at the younger Quatre. "You ran away to join the circus? What was so bad at home?"

The younger Quatre shuddered as the older one gaped in surprise.

"That's Barton!"

"I take it you know him?" The spirit asked dryly.

"He works for me! But why the hell don't I remember meeting him?"

"I don't want to end up like my father," the younger Quatre told the younger Barton. "He's a miserable bastard."

"Well, in that case, if it will keep you from being a miserable bastard, I suppose you can stay- at least for tonight. This is our last performance."

"Why?"

"Some miserable bastard is buying out the circus." The younger Barton looked sad for a moment. "My sisters and I have to find someplace new to live, and find regular jobs."

"I'll help you if I can." Barton laughed and tousled Quatre's hair.

"Thanks. Come help me feed the lions?" The two youngsters vanished towards the tents.

"Well, that explains why he works for you." the spirit shrugged. "Gods know no one else would bother."

The older Quatre was scowling. "I can't believe I was once such a naive idiot."

WHACK!

"OW!"

"I think you were better off this way." The spirit waved the sword. "And if you know what's good for you, you will too."

"Redemption by threats?"

"Whatever works."

"But why don't I remember this? It wasn't more than ten years ago, and Barton's been working for me for at least five! Why didn't I remember him?"

"Premature memory loss?"

"Bugger off."

"Speaking of which- isn't that your fiancée?" A carriage had pulled up outside the main tent. They watched the blonde haired girl descend, go into the tent, and return, pulling a struggling Quatre behind her.

"But sweetheart, Rashid even set the chains up and everything!" She tossed him into the carriage and they took off.

"Shall we follow?" The spirit asked. Quatre had turned pale, beads of sweat dripping down his face.

"N...N...Nooo. No. I...I don't want to... I think I know why I blocked this Christmas out..."

The spirit blinked in surprise. "It can't be that bad..." He made a small gesture, causing a mirror to appear in his hand. He looked at the images within. "Oh my gods!" He blanched, if such a thing were possible for a spirit.

He turned, seized Quatre by the collar and they instantly appeared back in Quatre's bedroom. The spirit was shaking.

"I can't help you. Not after... after seeing...women...chains...farm animals...." he shuddered. "The Past can't help you! Hope the Present has more luck!" And he vanished.

Quatre was alone in his room.