Hello, darlings! Happy New Year to you all! To be honest, I was hoping to have this Christmas-y chapter finished and posted before Christmas. But my laptop went and decided to die on me, so it needed to go and be repaired. Luckily I had it back by Christmas Eve but it had to have a new hard drive so everything that was on there before has completely gone. That's including future chapters for this story. And being the biggest idiot that I am, I didn't have it backed up anywhere else. As you can imagine I'm so gutted about it. I have tons of notes scribbled down but I need to start from scratch and type everything out properly again. I know I'm a pretty crap updater anyway and believe me when I say there isn't anyone who's more annoyed about it than I am. But please be patient with me, I'm doing my very best. Thank you!
Anyway, thank you to everyone for reviewing. I'm so happy to see there are still some lovely people out there enjoying my story. Your comments make me unbelievably happy! :D
Shout-outs to: That'sMyCupofTea, 'Guest', 'Guest', 'Guest', Shadow Silvertongue, theladyofthelost, 'Guest', LadyAntoinette, I'mUpAllNightToGetLoki, AkatsukiShizu3, DearLucy, duchessloki, forgetwheretheheartis, megumisakura, immysaurus, sieni1, AussieMaelstrom, Anna the Lynx, Black-Moon-Onaa-Inu, fan-de-carlisle-cullen, IceQueenForLife, Moongrl088, PJO-Blue-cookies, CherryBlossom10, themurrayone, 'Guest', FeliciaFelicis, RenkinMaitai, The Ginger Midget.
Time Knows No Boundaries ~ Chapter Eleven
Merry Christmas, darling
We're apart, that's true
But I can dream and in my dreams
I'm Christmasing with you
Holidays are joyful, there's always something new
But every day's a holiday when I'm near to you
The lights on my tree, I wish you could see
I wish it every day
The logs on the fire fill me with desire
To see you and to say that I wish you a Merry Christmas
Happy New Year too
I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve
I wish I were with you
'Merry Christmas Darling' ~ Carpenters
.:*:.
For many people, Christmas was a season of joy, good cheer and merriment; a time to be thankful and to spend with friends and loved ones. Sadly, this was not the case for everybody. For the spirit of James Nicholls, however, it just seemed to serve as an everlasting reminder of those he had loved and lost, and was never to see ever again.
Christmas Eve found the captain in Martha's living room, gazing out of the darkened window. Tiny flakes of snow heralding the beginnings of a blizzard were fluttering past the glass. Already, a thick white blanket glittered on the balcony rail and the surrounding rooftops. All was quiet and strangely muffled outside in the wintry air. Inside the flat, however, it was a far cosier atmosphere. A beautiful Christmas tree decorated lavishly in red and gold stood glistening in the corner of the room; and over the past few days, thanks to Martha's prestigious baking talents, the flat had been filled with the delicious scent of mixed spices and cinnamon.
James remembered how excited his younger sisters, Olivia and Katherine, became at this time of year. It had been a tradition of theirs that as a family, they would trim and decorate their tree. And then on Christmas Day itself, together with their mother and father, they would play games, sing carols and then sit down to enjoy their sumptuous meal.
Both girls, Olivia especially, adored everything about the festive season. The year before James went to war, she had been thirteen years old, and he remembered many a time where she loved nothing better than to play outdoors in the snow and instigate a furious snowball fight. His other sister, Katherine, who had just turned nineteen years old, used to pretend she was far too grown up and too much of a lady to indulge in such frivolous activities. But then she would be the first to abandon all sense of decorum and throw herself into the frolics and celebrations wholeheartedly. Christmas time certainly brought out the child in them all. A wistfully sad smile unconsciously worked its way onto James' face at the memory.
"Couldn't help me with this, could you?" asked a voice suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.
James turned to see Martha standing before him, looking very pretty indeed in a black sleeveless top. She was holding out a delicate silver chain between her fingers.
Smiling, he quietly answered, "Of course," before taking the pendant from her. Martha turned her back to him, moving her hair out of the way with one hand. It was a perfectly innocent gesture on her part, but he could not help noticing the pale column of her neck that was revealed, and the scattering of freckles which decorated her shoulders. If it weren't for the fact that he was already dead, James would have found it very difficult to breathe.
Whatever is the matter with you, Nicholls? Pull yourself together! he reprimanded himself not for the first time, trying very much to focus on fixing the clasp of the necklace rather than the pleasant violet fragrance radiating from her skin.
After what felt like an eon, though it was only a few seconds, he said, "All done."
As she let her hair cascade back into place, unbidden, James felt the overwhelming urge to want to run his fingers down the length of those silky red tresses. He dropped his hands quickly.
"Thank you!" she chirped, turning back to face him with a bright smile, completely unaware of the scandalous musings going on in the captain's mind.
Martha was still none the wiser as to Elliot's apparent philandering. This had infuriated the ghost immensely. He had hoped that his little display of haunting might have frightened Elliot enough or, at the very least, pricked his conscience, into confessing all. On the contrary, he appeared to be going out of his way to make more of an effort to being attentive to Martha; spending more time with her and being the "loving partner". Perhaps it was his guilty conscience, after all, which had decided that he should end the affair. James hoped so very much, for Martha's sake. He still did not think it was fair that she was being kept in the dark... On the other hand, maybe it would be kinder for her not to know, especially when she seemed to be so happy at the moment. And it was Christmas...
"So, what are you and Mr. Fielding going to be doing this winter's evening?" he enquired now as he helped Martha on with her coat.
"We're going to the pub," she answered with the tiniest hint of a sigh. James immediately noted her tone of voice and eyed her carefully.
"You don't sound very enthusiastic about this arrangement," he observed.
"Well, it's just..." Martha hesitated, "...it's not my idea of the Christmas spirit. I mean, we can go to the pub any old time. Call me a sentimental old sap but I like Christmas to be a time when adults can behave like kids. You know, snowball fights, making snow angels, go out to see the lights on people's houses, visit toyshops...stuffing myself silly on homemade mince pies and cookies while wrapping presents... that sort of thing, you know?"
James couldn't help the smile tugging on his lips as he listened to her. There was already a child-like exuberant gleam in her eye as she spoke about all the things she loved about Christmas.
"You know, if I were able to, I would happily do all of those things with you," he told her quietly.
Martha smiled sadly back at him. "I know you would," she murmured, reaching out to give his hand a gentle squeeze. Dropping her hand again, she added, "Anyway...what are you going to do with yourself this evening?"
"Sit and watch the snow, I suppose," James said with a little shrug.
Martha's eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
"But won't you be lonely?"
"I've been alone for nearly one hundred years," he pointed out to her, "I daresay I am used to it."
He had meant to sound offhand about it, but Martha picked up the gloominess in his tone. She watched sadly as James turned his gaze back towards the window, watching the now much larger snowflakes drift past the glass. She could see them reflected in his cornflower-blue eyes.
"You best be on your way," he said quietly, "You don't want to keep your young man waiting now."
But Martha had already made up her mind. She rummaged around in her handbag for a moment, pulled out her phone and scrolled down to Elliot's number.
"Hey - El...? Hey, look, I'm sorry but...but I won't be able to make it tonight... No, no, everything's fine! Just a friend who's in need of some company... Okay, I'll see you Boxing Day... Okay, sounds good... Bye... "
As she hung up, she looked around to see that James was staring at her. After a couple of moments of silence, he murmured, "That really wasn't necessary, you know."
It was Martha's turn to shrug. "I know it wasn't," she answered simply, "But Elliot's done his fair share of standing me up in the past, it won't kill him if I do it for once."
"But it's Christmas, you ought to be – " James began to protest but Martha held up a finger to silence him.
"Ah-ah! I'm not arguing about this, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve..." Tossing her handbag onto the sofa, she turned back to James, smiling at him expectantly. "Sooo... what do you want to do first? You choose."
The memory of his sisters and he playing in the snow resurfaced in James' mind, and a wide smile crossed his face.
"I believe I know just the thing..."
The park situated far on the other side of the estate from Martha's home was not exactly the most inviting or picturesque of places. By day, it was a gloomy and dismal spot; by night, it was vandalised by hooded youths, and it was an area Martha would normally avoid. But that evening, the entire place was carpeted in glittering white. With the only light source from distant lampposts and the moon up above, it was an oddly beautiful sight. Local residents had been coming and going throughout the day to play in the snow; dotted here and there were piles of the stuff from leftover snowmen. Now, a fresh blizzard was covering all the footprints which had disturbed the snow's surface and there wasn't another soul in sight, leaving this little piece of winter wonderland just for Martha and James.
Martha gazed up at the sky, an exultant grin lighting up her face as snowflakes clung to her lashes. She spun slowly on the spot, arms held out wide, catching the powdery sleet in her mitten-clad hands. She was so enchanted by the beauty of the moment that she did not realise at first that her companion had vanished from sight. She turned her head, eyes scanning the park but there was no sign of the ghost anywhere.
"James?" she called out softly, "Where are you?" But there was no answer. She revolved on the spot again, a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree circle. There was no sign of him. "Jim?" she called again, this time with slight worry in her tone.
Then without warning, a snowball came hurling out of nowhere from the gloom and struck her on the back of her head. Martha let out a shriek of surprise and whipped around to face the culprit. Illuminated by a nearby lamppost, James had now reappeared, wearing a mischievous smirk. Martha narrowed her eyes, favouring him with a mock glare.
"Okay, Soldier Boy..." Martha bent down to scoop up a handful of snow, "...you asked for it!"
And so a furious snowball war then ensued. Their laughter echoed eerily across the empty parkland, giving the impression that there were in fact two ghosts out there. Out of the pair of them, Martha was the one who received the most hits and was soon simply covered in white. Her attempts of throwing snowballs had little or no effect on the captain, of course, especially in moments of mischief when he would turn invisible every now and then, throwing her off course.
"Hey, that's cheating!" she would exclaim whenever he did this, to which he would only laugh.
James could not remember the last time he'd had that much fun, and if she was perfectly honest, neither could Martha. Their snowy frolics continued for about another hour, until at one point, Martha slipped, almost losing her footing had it not been for the pair of cold but strong hands reaching out quickly to steady her.
"Are you alright?" James asked her with concern.
But looking down at her, Martha appeared to be more than alright, he thought...she looked elated. Despite the fact that she was breathing heavily with the cold evening air tearing at her lungs, and she was shivering slightly from the damp where the snowballs had struck her, there was a beaming smile on her face. It was infectious and James couldn't help smiling widely himself. She gazed back up at him.
"I've never been better," she answered, her breath rising in a misty cloud as she spoke.
A distant shout of laughter made them both suddenly start, but it was merely a couple with their young children arriving from the other side of the park to come and enjoy the snow.
Turning back to face Martha, James suggested, "Truce?"
"Truce," she agreed with a nod before linking an arm around his, and they began their short journey back to the flat, admiring all the various Christmas trees twinkling in people's windows and the fairy lights which had been draped over trees and bushes in their gardens as they passed by.
After James' strict talking to that she would catch her death, Martha changed out of her snow-drenched clothes and took a hot shower. By the time she arrived back in the kitchen in her PJs, she found James had poured out a glass of white wine for her. Smiling her thanks, she took a sip and let out an appreciative sigh, feeling all warm and toasty again.
"Okay, snowball fight...done," she said cheerfully, miming a ticking motion on an imaginary list with a finger, "What do you want to do next?" she asked James.
"It's your turn to choose this time, as I recall," he answered.
Martha pursed her lips in thought for a moment.
"I know! Let's make some Christmas-y cookies!"
Twenty minutes later, the air was filled with the wonderful smell of baking biscuit. Martha kneaded and rolled the cookie dough, whilst James assisted by creating snowflake shapes with a cutter. A freshly baked batch of cookies were cooling on a tray nearby whilst another was already in the oven. As the two worked and chatted together, Martha had put on a CD of Christmas music, which she was happily singing along (badly) to. Her tabby cat, Blossom weaved around her mistress's legs and looked up eagerly at the kitchen countertop in the vain hope that something edible would come her way.
"Shall we put our handiwork to the test then?" Martha asked a little while later, passing James a newly cooled biscuit.
Even though he had no real need to eat anything, James obliged and took a bite. No sooner had he done this, the strangest thing happened...
A sharp pain suddenly erupted in his chest, just above the place where his heart would have been; it was as though somebody had driven a knife into him with incredible force... He had to grab hold of the kitchen counter with one hand to help steady himself as the pain reached such a peak, that it was almost unbearable. What on earth was happening to him? Then as it suddenly as it had started, after a few seconds that seemed to have lasted hours, the pain vanished completely. James did not understand at all. What did it mean? He didn't think it was possible for a spirit to feel such physical pain, especially as intensely as that. He did not like it one bit...
"Hey, are you okay?" Martha asked him as though from a great distance away. James did not answer at first; he was waiting to see if the pain would reoccur. However, it did not. "Jim?" Martha persisted in a hushed voice, "What's the matter?"
He looked round to see her staring at him with great concern and worry. Evidently, his moment of unexpected pain had not gone completely unnoticed. For a split-second, he was the on the verge of telling her what he had just experienced but then he thought better of it. He did not wish to put a dampener on what had been such a lovely evening.
"Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all," he replied, forcing a smile, hoping she would believe him, "My compliments to the chef," he added, holding up his piece of cookie before taking another bite, which he found he could not taste very much. "These are delicious."
Martha, however, seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her rolling out, just as the last song on the CD began to play.
'Greeting cards have all been sent, the Christmas rush is through...'
"Awww," Martha said suddenly, straightening up, "I really love this song."
'But I still have one wish to make...'
"You've said that for every song that's been played," James pointed out with an amused little laugh.
"Yeah, I know...but this one's my favourite, it's so lovely..."
'...a special one for you...'
Wishing very much to push the mysterious pain to the back of his mind, James was struck with a sudden idea. Turning to the redhead beside him, he bowed slightly.
"May I have the pleasure of this dance, m'lady?"
"Huh?" Martha glanced up to see that he was holding out a hand towards her. "What, here?" she said with a little laugh, looking nonplussed. He raised his eyebrows at her as if to say "Why not?"
'Merry Christmas, darling...we're apart, that's true...'
Martha bowed her head slightly in embarrassment. "I can't dance," she mumbled, "Completely rubbish at it, I've got four left feet."
"Nonsense," James said dismissively, refusing to take no for an answer.
'But I can dream, and in my dream I'm Christmasing with you...'
"James, you should know me by now, I can trip over flat surfaces."
'Holidays are joyful, there's always something new... but everyday's a holiday when I'm near to you...'
But she was unable to resist the captain's wide-eyed pleading look. Sighing a little, Martha relented and dusted off the flour on her hands before accepting his. Leading her out to the middle of the room so that they had more room, James took her right hand in his left whilst the other – cautiously, at first, she noticed – came to rest at her waist. Although her heartbeat seemed to ratchet up a notch at being such in close proximity to him, Martha honestly felt a bit ridiculous at first because of their drastic height differences.
'The lights on my tree, I wish you could you could see, I wish it everyday...'
As the pair of them swayed gently from side to side to the music, after a time Martha found herself no longer feeling self-conscious and decided to enjoy this moment. Leaning a little closer towards him, she rested the side of her head against his chest as they danced, allowing her eyes to drift closed.
'Logs on the fire fill me with desire...to see you and to say, that I wish you Merry Christmas...'
James had not expected this at all and he looked down at her in slight surprise at first. Martha did not appear to feel uncomfortable in his embrace and he found he did mind in the slightest. He smiled, and in a moment of unprecedented boldness, pressed his lips gently yet briefly to the top of her head. Martha's eyes flew open again but she made no move at all to pull away from him. Her entire being was trembling. His lips may have been ice cold but she felt as though she had been scorched by them. Perhaps that wine from earlier had gone to her head...
'Happy New Year too...I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve...I wish I were with you...'
"Merry Christmas, Martha," James whispered. Martha pulled back slightly to look into those beautiful sky-blue orbs of his.
'I wish I were with you.'
"Merry Christmas, Jim," she whispered back with a smile.
The track came to an end and all that could be heard in the room was the mechanical whir as the CD came to a stop. But neither of them broke out of hold and neither seemed to want to. They merely looked at one another.
"Music's stopped," Martha said unnecessarily, breaking the silence. And quite suddenly, the moment was broken as she wrinkled her nose slightly. "Can you smell something?"
James frowned as he sniffed. "Smells like burning..."
"Oh, bugger - the cookies!" Martha shrieked suddenly and she made a dash to the kitchen to wrench the oven door open. A cloud of steam burst out ominously as she did this and sure though, when she put the baking tray on the counter...
"Burnt to a crisp..." she sighed, looking down at the sorry blackened mess.
"Mmm, charcoal flavour...my absolute favourite," commented James jokingly.
Martha gave him a playful shove but let out a snort of laughter all the same.
"Oh well, never mind," she sighed, depositing the casualties on the counter to cool off, "I'll bung some icing on them, I'm sure they'll still be edible..." Glancing back up at the window, she added, "Oh, hey, it's started snowing again." For a minute or two, she and James stood watching the large flakes flutter past the window in silence before she turned to him. "Hey, Jimbo, would you like your Christmas present now?"
James looked at her in great surprise. "You bought me a present?"
" 'Course I did!" she answered as though it were obvious and scurried over to the tree where a number of neatly wrapped parcels sat waiting. She returned to him by the window, holding a rectangular-shaped present wrapped in glistening red paper and trimmed with an attractive green bow. James noticed that there was no label. He stared down at the present, completely at a loss for words.
"Martha, you shouldn't be buying – "
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." She waved a dismissive hand, "Go on, open it," she urged him excitedly with a grin.
It seemed almost a shame to spoil such a neat job but James untied the ribbon and pulled off the scarlet wrapping. Inside he found an exceedingly handsome dark brown case made of leather with a latch at its side. Intrigued, he unfastened the latch and opened the case. Inside was a beautiful array of coloured pencils, paintbrushes, watercolours, a brand new pad of paper, and sketching pencils. Even a little eraser and sharpener. They looked of the finest quality and James knew it must have cost a fair amount of money.
"Oh, Martha..." he whispered, hardly able to find the words, "I don't know what to say..." He raised his head to look her in the eyes. "Thank you for such a beautiful gift."
"You're very welcome," Martha smiled.
"I only wish I had something to give to you in return."
"You don't need to get me anything," she told him firmly, "Just you being here with me is enough."
James looked quickly at her in amazement. Those were the exact same words that Meg had used when she gave him the pocket watch before he went away to France all those years ago. Though he felt it wise not to mention that to Martha.
"I mean it, you know," Martha continued, "You being here with me...it makes me really happy." James saw her hesitate for a moment and then, shyly at first, she wrapped her arms around his middle in a hug, leaning her head once more against his chest. Nuzzling into the cool, soft material of his shirt, she murmured, "Thank you for making this the best Christmas Eve ever..."
There you are, a little fluffy festive chappie before the drama kicks off. A couple of you have asked me how exactly this relationship is going to pan out, what with James being a ghost and all. I'm not revealing anything at this point, you'll have to wait and see. But I'll just say this...who even says this story is going to end happily...? *evil laughing* And I know I've said this before but I'm NOT abandoning this story, don't worry. This little fanfiction is my baby, I'm determined to finish it. I'm not letting a dying laptop defeat me!
As always, reviews are loved and appreciated and I hope everybody's had a great start to the new year. Love you, darlings!
