Disclaimer: I still own neither The Christmas Carol nor Avatar. But this crackheaded idea is mine. Merry Christmas (long live political incorrectness!)

AN: You know, now that I've posted the first two chapters, I do recomend that you read Shades of Chaos. It isn't necessary to understand this, but it will help. How's that for advertising?

Chapter 2

It was impossible. Tsune had seen incredible things in her lifetime, but this was beyond even her faculties. The Exiled Prince of the Fire Nation could not be here, in London, speaking to his father as though he'd had too much sake.

"Bah!" Ozai snapped, spinning in his chair to scowl at Zuko. "Humbug!" This pulled the Spirit from her stupor. You really like that word, don't you? She thought. What does it mean, anyway? I have never once seen a bug that hums, and I've been most insects already.

"Christmas a humbug, uncle?" Zuko said innocently. And why are you calling him Uncle? He isn't Iroh. The young man smiled gently. "You don't mean that, I am sure." Yeah. You have definitely had too much to drink, dear.

"I do! Merry Christmas!" he mocked. "What right have you to be merry? You're poor enough." And he is definitely Ozai. First 'dishonor', then exile, now he's rubbing poverty in your face. And now, dear, knowing you, you're going to nominate him for some 'Father of the Year' award.

"Come, then," Zuko countered, undaunted. "What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough." Tsune squeaked in agreement, but silenced herself as both men turned to look for the source of the sound.

"Bah! Humbug..." Ozai grumbled. The word was followed by a cried oath as Tsune dug her mouse's teeth into his heel, disappearing beneath his desk as he kicked out at his attacker.

"Don't be cross, uncle," Zuko chided gently, clearly misinterpreting the shout. Ozai's glare simmered, though he aimed it out a grimy window, away from his son (though Zuko seemed convinced that he was his uncle...)

"What else can I be when I live in such a world of fools as this Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you?"

Tsune hadn't understood more than a few words of this speech, but she could fill in the blanks, simply by looking at Zuko's crestfallen face. He looked at once determined and defeated, the way he usually appeared when the Avatar got away from him, though without the usual anger. Absolutely ignorant of this, Ozai continued: "If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!" This much Tsune had understood, and her patience was quickly disappearing. It wasn't so much his lack of excitement for the holiday (because it rivaled her own) but because of how cold- how cruel- he was being to Zuko. Hadn't the poor boy suffered enough already? And at Ozai's hands, too! She was already working on her plans for revenge when a new man entered the room. This one, thankfully, Tsune did not recognize. He was silent, carefully picking up stacks of scrolls and long feathers and bottles of black liquid that she could only imagine was supposed to be ink.

"Uncle!" Zuko cried, clearly as impassioned as the Spirit to hear Ozai's little speech.

"Nephew!" the old man mocked. "You keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine!" I'm not letting you keep my holidayanywhere, you miserable pile of filth! If you're lucky, you'll end up in my stomach!

"Keep it!" Zuko snapped. This was more like him. Oddly enough, he only seemed himself when he was irritated. "But you don't keep it!"

"Then let me leave it alone! Much good may it do to you!" Ozai bellowed. And then his voice lowered, retracting to a sharp hiss. "Much good it has ever done you!" Zuko opened his mouth to speak- Tsune froze in interest. It had been too long since she had seen some decent Firebending. Especially against the beast who called himself Fire Lord- or now, Scrooge. But then he closed his eyes, and his mouth, releasing a soft puff of air as though he was meditating.

"There are many things," he began, his voice soft yet confident, "from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say. Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that-" Wait, Tsune thought. What's so sacred about all this? Why don't people tell me these things? "-as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" The man who had just entered clapped quietly. Tsune only sat motionless. What have I gotten myself into? She wondered miserably. I used to be Chaos. I used to be Panic. I used to be fun. How do you get from there to Charity and Forgiveness? She laid her mouse's head on the dusty floor. Well...it isn't all bad, I guess. Zuko seems to like this enough. And at least I get to use my creative talents on Ozai.

Oblivious to her thoughts, the intended reception of her creative talents began to roar. "Let me hear another sound from you, and you'll keep your Christmas!" he snarled. "By losing your job!" He turned on Zuko, his yellow eyes narrowed coldly. "You're quite a powerful speaker, sir," he hissed, the mockery reentering his voice. "I wonder you don't go into Parlament." Tsune could only assume that this was an insult, and it made her even angrier.

"Don't be angry, uncle," Zuko said. He wasn't afraid, though lesser men might have been, and he wasn't discouraged (not outwardly, at least. Tsune had seen firsthand how he liked to keep such 'weaknesses' concealed). He only continued to stare at his 'uncle' with steady eyes. "Dine with us tomorrow. Will you come see us?" It was an invitation. He had been shouted at, insulted, and he was inviting Ozai to dinner. He should be nominated to Sagehood.

And yet, despite this saintly show of mercy, seemed to billow out, enlarging in pure, unrestrained rage. "Oh, I'll see you, all right," he growled, advancing. "I'll see you in Hell!" Tsune set her claws into the wood. They were tiny now- useless in a fight. But if he tried, if he even looked like he was trying to strike Zuko, they would be far more effective. Tiger. Dragon. Bear. She could become them in an instant and tear the man to shreds. And she had every intention of doing so.

"But why?" Zuko asked. "Why?"

"Why did you get married?" Ozai snapped. His 'nephew' looked confused.

"Because I fell in love," he said, as though it was obvious. As though it should have been clear. As though it was painful to think that Ozai had overlooked such a simple, beautiful fact. Had Tsune been able to smile, to cry, she would have.

Finally, she thought gently, her anger dissolving. Finally. Good for you, dear. I'm glad. Ozai did not share her opinions. In fact, he looked disgusted.

"Fell in love?" he demanded, pure loathing bleeding into his voice. He looked as though he was about to say more, but perhaps he sensed Tsune's suddenly rekindled anger, because it was replaced on his lips with a curt "Good afternoon!"

"Uncle," Zuko pressed. "You never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?"

"Good afternoon." Ozai turned away, his face completely twisted.

"I want nothing from you! I ask nothing of you! Why can't we be friends?" The words were like a knife in the Spirit's heart.

Why didn't he ever love you when he was your father? Why did he scar you? Why has he ever done anything? Just leave him alone, dear.

"Good afternoon!"

"I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute." Please, Zuko. Just leave. Don't hurt yourself any more. "We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party." Of course not. This is his fault. And you can't change him, Zuko. Don't do this to yourself because of him. "But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So a Merry Christmas, uncle!" Was it like this when you brought him the Avatar? Did he scar you again?

"Good afternoon."

"And a Happy New Year!"

"Good afternoon." This statement was final. Cold and sealing as a tombstone.

Zuko turned and walked away. He plastered a fresh smile on his face as he passed the other man. Mr. Cratchit, he called him as he paused. For a moment they discussed the poorer man's family- he apparently had a lame son, Tim, and a few other children. They wished each other Merry Christmas (Merry...yeah. Right. Not in this hole) and Zuko walked out. Scrooge-Ozai barked something at the unfortunate employee, but Tsune didn't stay- she had other buisness to take care of.

She didn't bother creeping into an alley to change. One instant she was a little gray mouse, sprinting at Zuko's heels. The next she was a young man, not unlike the gentleman she had impersonated earlier.

"You don't need to come back here," she said, her voice low. Zuko turned on his heel. "Your reflexes have deteriorated," she observed.

"What?" he asked, then blinked, remembering his manners. "Sorry...who are you?"

I'm Tsune. I'm Chaos. I'm Christmas. I was in your debt once. I was your friend once.

"I am nobody," she said instead.

"Surely you are somebody," he insisted.

"Just a messenger, dear." She leveled her eyes with his. "And the message is this: you've done all you could. Don't bother with him anymore. He isn't worth your pain." His eyebrows raised in surprise...and shock?

"Not worth my pain?" he asked, as though not quite believing what he had heard."I'm sorry, sir, but we must be speaking of different mend-"

"Ebeneser Scrooge. Your uncle. You heard right. All he wants is to make you and everyone else as miserable as he is-"

"My uncle is a good and honorable man, sir," Zuko said, a dangerous edge to his voice. "And I will not have you speaking ill of him."

"Honor?" Tsune repeated. "What is it with you and Honor? You have it- he doesn't And if he ever has, then it's news to me."

"Can you hear what you're saying?" the young man demanded.

"Can you?"

"He is my uncle!"

"And you've paid your dues to humanity by coming today. But he won't. Never. I appreciate what you're doing and everything, but you're just wasting your time."

"He will come," Zuko said, his voice as hard as iron.

"It didn't look like it just now."

Zuko's eyes widened, his expression clear: have you been spying on me? But then his face hardened. "Perhaps not tonight," he said. "But he will come." He held her gaze for a few moments, then turned to walk away.

"I hope he does," Tsune called after him. "For your sake." He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas," he said. And he disappeared into the London streets.