A/N: Here we go.... There will be some deviation from the plot, so don't flame and/or shoot me, okay? I mean, I'm not Dickens. If you want mastery, read him. And with that in mind, I give you this quote and all the irony involved in its placement with this chapter....

Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!

~Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 1836

She woke up with her cheek pressed against the cold tile of the floor. An insistent chiming noise like a thousand tiny silver bells had been clamoring for her attention for some time now, but it had been hard to pull herself up from the blackness that had engulfed her. Her eyes opened, not together, but she finally was able to begin sorting the world back into shapes that made sense, into a location she recognized. With a groan, Mary pushed herself up to her knees and looked around.

What happened to me? Why am I on the floor? And what in the name of freakin' crap is that ringing sound?

Her eyes tracked the source of the unfamiliar intrusion to her desk. Sitting in her chair was a man she'd sincerely hoped she'd never see again, feet up, face the perfect picture of arrogant ease: Robert Eps. Mary forced herself off the floor despite a remaining sense of queasiness. She had her Glock drawn and trained on him by the time she was fully on her feet.

He tilted his head a little sideways, but other than that, he was unmoved. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?" He laughed his rusty little laugh, and looked at her, raked his eyes over her in a way that was far, far from friendly, at least to her mind. She did not lower the gun.

"What the hell are you doing here, Eps? How did you get in? You're not in the program anymore, remember?" Her mind was assessing the threat. Had he caused her blackout? How had he entered the building? What were his intentions? Was he armed? She had her weapon out, so she should have the drop on him....

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. I'm here specifically tonight for you, Mary Shannon."

Mary felt that prickling creeping unease that had been following her around for the past few days blossom at the base of her neck, and goosebumps formed.

"Here for me, huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean, exactly, when it's at home?"

Eps still remained still and calm except to mildly shift one booted foot over the other. Mary's grip tightened, hands tracking the movement. "Well, hell, Mary. I'm assuming you've read the story before, right? Everybody pretty much knows how it goes. I mean there's a version with Mickey Mouse for Pete's sake."

Mary growled in frustration. "Eps, if you'd like to live, you'd better fucking explain yourself."

Amused, he grinned, dimples showing. "You always did like that fine print, didn't you, honey? Okay. We'll go with the classic forms, then. Mary Shannon. You will be visited tonight by three spirits...."

"What the living fuck are you talking about...."

".....The first to come at the stroke of eight...or there abouts. Let's call it eight. It's nearly that now, and I'd like to get this show on the road....."

"....Eps? Are you high? Are you using? Have you hit your head on something recently?"

"....the next to come at the stroke of nine....or whenever she shows, although I have to say she's usually pretty punctual about these things....annoyingly so at times....."

"That's it. I'm going right over here to this phone, and I'm going to make a little call. Just keep talking. Pay me no attention whatsoever...."

"....and the last...well, he'll pretty much show up whenever he damn well pleases. Far be it from me to impose any sort of stricture or schedule on the Big D. If you press me for a time, let's call that one the stroke of ten. It will keep everything nice and parallel. I remember my English teacher always riding my ass about that back in the day....."

Mary had picked up the office phone and was trying to hold the gun on Eps and dial at the same time. She was more than a little unnerved. What the hell was he talking about? Three ghosts? A time schedule? Had he joined some type of cult? What was he using?

Wait a minute.... She glanced down at the phone in consternation. There was no dial tone. She punched the buttons on the phone, tried to use one of the other lines. As she pressed each button, to her horror, Christmas music came pouring out of the handset, a different carol with each button pressed. She banged the phone sharply on the desk, looking at it in dismay, and the music stopped.

A finger tapped her on the shoulder, and she spun. Eps had crossed the room during her encounter with the phone, and he was now much, much too close to her. She tried to raise the gun, but he gently caught her hand and pressed down with far more strength than he should have been able to muster, especially with just one hand.

"Really. Mary. Come on. Get with the program, won't you?"

She felt panicked, backed into a corner, and of course, Mary never dealt with that well....

"What the hell is going on here, Eps? What game are you playing? You need to tell me that right now. You come in here and attack me, then you start spouting psychopathic nonsense about spirits and visitations, and you rig the phone for this cheap, stupid trick, and...."

She suddenly realized that Eps was nowhere to be seen in front of her. She heard the silvery chiming of bells behind her near the elevator, and when she spun to look, the doors were sliding open and Eps was standing inside staring up at the ceiling. Her words dried up like vapor in the hot morning sun. Her mind spun around two words over and over: Not possible...not possible...not possible....

"Well? Are you coming or not? Remember, you're booked up pretty heavily tonight, so we kind of need to get our collective behinds in gear here, sugar....."

Helplessly, Mary found her feet carrying her toward the shimmering light filling the elevator. The doors closed behind her, and the lights on the floor indicator began to light up merrily, showing descending numbers. Although their elevator did not play music, muzak was drifting in from somewhere above. Through her haze, Mary registered the tune, "I'll Be Home for Christmas."

Well, shit....

---

When the elevator showed that it had reached the first floor, the doors rolled silently open, and Mary looked out expecting to see the parking lot. However, nothing about the odd scene that met her eyes was familiar to her. What the hell? This kind of thing just DOES. NOT. HAPPEN. She turned to look at Eps in frustration.

"Eps, what is this? Some kind of Christmas joke? You may not know it, but I am not known for my sense of humor..."

Eps was leaning against the back wall of the elevator, still completely at ease. "Ah, come on, Mary. You're supposed to be an experienced member of the law-enforcement community. Use your powers of observation. You tell me where you are." He shot her a snide smile and crossed his arms.

Mary glared at him another moment and looked out at the impossibility just beyond the elevator doors again. The elevator now opened onto a shabbily carpeted hallway. Florescent lights lined the ceiling, and here and there along the run bulbs were burned out or flickering in their final stages of death. From behind the closed doors with their dingy and peeling yellow paint, Mary could hear the sounds of life. There was a TV blaring the theme song from a well-known Christmas kids' special, the sound of someone's music turned up just a little too loud, and from the very end of the hall where all the lights had long-since stopped burning, the almost imperceptible sound of someone crying and trying not to be heard. It was that sound that jarred Mary's memory, and she stepped out of the elevator with horrified disbelief chasing its way up and down her spine.

"It can't be. It just...can't be...."

She edged her way down the hall, suddenly enveloped in the smells of the place, the scent of someone's garlic bread, someone's attempt at homemade gingerbread and the vague tang where a piece or two had burned, and even a whiff of a fresh tree from one of the doors. She knew that none of those homey scents were coming from that door at the dark end of the hall.

She turned to look for Eps. He was right behind her. "Why have you brought me here? Why have we come to this place? I swore I'd never come back here again...in fact, I thought they tore this goddamn place down..."

Eps look was filled with gentle consideration. "Some places defy all efforts to remove them. And actually, you sort of picked this location yourself, Mary. I'm more or less along for the ride and the interpretation."

She raised her menacingly. "Get me out of here. I mean it. Whatever this is, Eps, I don't want any more part in it."

Eps sighed. "Look. You're here for the duration, right? We both know that you're going to go down that hall and open that door, so could we just get on with it?" He glanced down at his watch in an exaggerated fashion. "On a time table, remember?"

She paused, cocked her head sideways in a gesture that would have had Marshall, were he there, leaping to restrain her, and then said in her sweetest voice, "Yeah. Absolutely, Eps. You are altogether right in every way. Let's get on with it." And she drew back and swung as hard as she could.

Eps did not raise his arms to block. He did not try to step aside. He did not even flinch. Instead, he raised his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned while Mary stumbled forward through him with the strength behind her punch. She regained her balance, but not before she was pressed against the smooth metal of the elevator doors for support. She spun around wide-eyed, staring at Eps who was casually leaning against the far wall looking back at her with a total absence of alarm.

"Get it all out of your system, did you? If not, please, feel free to try again."

Mary turned to face, slid down to the floor and pulled her knees up tightly. "What the hell are you?"

Eps rolled his eyes. "Mary. I know you're not slow. I did go through this with you earlier, remember? Three ghosts? One night? One big all-night date with you?" He held up three fingers with his first question, then folded them down to only his index finger with the next statement which he dropped to point at her with the last question.

She shook her head, held up her hand. "Stop it. This can't be happening. This can't be real. I have to be dreaming. I have to be hallucinating....yeah. That's it. Maybe Mrs. Geisel drugged me with those fruitcake cookies somehow...." She put her head in her hands.

Eps laughed, and it was not an unkind sound somehow. "Look. Okay. Here's the deal. You want out?"

She looked up at him and nodded. She felt lost, uncertain of the rules in this place, whatever it was.

"Then you are going to have to go down that hall and open that door."

But I don't want to....

"Doesn't matter what you want to do, Mary. The way back leads through that door, through that apartment, through what happened there all those years ago."

But it will hurt....

Compassion flickered over Eps face like the flame of a candle, briefly seen then gone, and for a moment, that silvery light enveloped him again, then winked out. "Yes. I am aware of that. But hey, that's life, right? Come on. Get yourself up. Time's a-wasting, and I've already told you that the chick who's up next has a thing about punctuality." He reached a hand down, and to Mary's surprise as she instinctively took it, it was solid and he pulled her to her feet.

---

It did not take many steps at all to get to the door at the dark end of the hall. Mary stood before it, and she reached a hesitant hand up to run her fingers up to run them over the number on the door, 6-F. She'd always thought that particular combination of number and letter was especially appropriate for this place, the number of evil and the letter of failure. She looked down at the doorknob, but she could not make herself turn it.

Eps sarcastic voice cut her from behind. "Gorgeous door, really. But I think what we're after is probably on the other side."

Asshole.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open. Just as she'd remembered, it stuck about halfway, and she gave it a savage little shove to get enough room to clear it. Inside was the meager furniture and pool of belongings of the Shannon family, all they'd had, everything in the world she'd known when she'd lived here. Somehow, in some way beyond her understanding she was here again, not just in 6-F, but back in that very time, too....

In the corner was a horribly-bent and spindly-looking artificial tree. She sneered at it, trying to squelch her unease.

"God. Look at that crappy tree. That was all we had that year. I remember that we got it because Jinx picked it up at a yard sale. You can look at it and see why."

Eps did not comment. They walked closer to it.

"Maybe this is where my hatred of them all started."

The ornaments on it were handmade, some hers and some Brandi's. She put out a fingertip and pushed a little snowman made from construction paper and cotton balls. As it swung gently back and forth, a memory assailed her unexpectedly.

"You know," she said meditatively, "I remember these. Jinx had a Saturday afternoon off, and she went down to Woolsworth and bought a bunch of crazy stuff and brought it home. We all sat around the table making ornaments for that tree. She'd pick up each one we made and tell us it was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen and hang it up like it was some kind of treasure...."

It had been a rare, bright happy afternoon of sobriety and joy with Jinx. Of course, she knew now that they hadn't had enough money to buy decorations for the tree, but it hadn't mattered to her nine-year-old self. Those handmade deocrations had satisfied her in a way nothing storebought could have. She thought about the ornaments on the office tree briefly, and something clenched hard around her heart. She spun fast on her heel to scan the rest of the room.

There were a few pitiful toys on the floor, but nothing else indicated that there were two very young girls living here. There were no photos of the girls growing up, no little mementos of them, none of the clutter that accumulated when a family had been in residence for awhile. In fact, the whole apartment had a temporary feel to it, the feel that said the people here had not been living there very long and that they might at any moment be pulling up to go somewhere else. Mary was familiar with that sensation in the air, felt it everyday in the homes she entered as a part of her job, but suddenly she was aware as she never had been before that the temporary had been a permanent part of her own life for a long, long time.

Cutting into her reverie, a tiny blond-haired girl in pink pajamas came running into the room blinking and rubbing her eyes. She quickly looked under the tree and froze in her tracks. There was nothing there. She closed her eyes, opened them again, but the view under the artificial evergreen had not magically altered. A tear tracked down the little girl's cheek, and Mary felt sadness rising in her heart, felt rage clawing its way right up behind it in hot pursuit.

Because I remember that. I remember exactly how that felt. I know just exactly what she's...I mean...I'm...thinking right now...

The little blond-haired girl was nine-year-old Mary. A Mary who had been not only promised a present for Christmas, but who had also seen it bought and brought home now could not understand what had happened to it.....

Mary watched the younger version of herself creep toward the tree, lift the cheap red plastic tree skirt as if something might be hidden under it and then go and sit forlornly on the cheap rust and brown plaid ottoman. Young Mary drew her knees under her chin and stared at the tree in furious concentration, clearly turning something over in her mind quickly.

Eps voice broke the stillness of the room. "What were you thinking, just then?" His voice was mild, all spite and irony completely absent.

Mary kept her focus on the little girl in the middle of that cold room staring at that empty space under the pitiful tree. "Jinx had taken us to see the Santa at the mall. She told us we should ask him for just the one thing we wanted most. Brandi and I heard the other kids giving these huge lists, and I remember she wanted to expand her list, but told her we had a better chance of getting one big thing out of the old man than a lot of little stuff. We were pretty serious about strategy." She smiled bitterly. "For all the good it did us. Anyway. We asked for our big requests. We wanted bikes. We could ride to school from here and all the other kids had them. I had had one before, but it would be Brandi's first."

Young Mary was still hunkered down on the ottoman in furious thought. Occasionally, her hand came up to swipe at her cheek.

"A week after that, I overheard Jinx talking to somebody on the phone while Brandi and I were playing. Although I usually ignored her, I heard the word 'bike,' and I started listening in. She was talking to some guy on the phone at a shop nearby. A little while later, she told me to watch Brandi because she had to go out and take care of something. I waited until she left and I dragged Brandi out with me after her. I had to know. I had to know if I was really going to get the bike or if Jinx was going to screw me over again."

She glanced at Eps. "I was already getting cynical at nine, you see." Eps said nothing.

"Imagine my surprise when I saw her go up to the counter and the guy showed her two of the prettiest bikes I'd ever seen. The larger one, the one that I guess was for me, was red. It wasn't second-hand or anything. Nothing was rusted, or broken, or ratty in any way. It looked like a dream come true to me. The little one was hot pink with a basket, streamers, and training wheels. In other words, Brandi's perfect ride. I saw Jinx give the guy some money, and they chatted for a few more minutes, then he rolled both bikes into the back of the shop and Brandi and I cut out quick so we could get home before Jinx caught us. For the first time in several years, I was feeling optimistic about my chances for Christmas."

She took a few steps forward. "But you see how it turned out, don't you?"

Eps came forward, too, until he was right behind her. "Is this the worst of it?"

Mary shuddered. "No. It's not..." And right on cue, another smaller blond child bounced into the room.

"Mary! It's Christmas! Merry Christmas! Let's go wake up Daddy and Jinx!"

Young Mary did not move. She continued to stare at the empty spot under the tree as if her concentration alone would make it suddenly fill with the two bikes that were supposed to be there.

Young Brandi bounded forward and squirmed onto the ottoman with her. "Maa-rry! C'mon! We gotta get Daddy and Jinx so we can get our presents! I wanna go ride my bike. Will you teach me to ride it? I wanna take the training wheels off it."

Young Mary turned her head and looked at the happy and excited face of her baby sister. Mary could still feel the hot pain of that moment as precisely as if she were still in that small body. Young Mary grabbed Brandi suddenly and hugged her. "Sure. Let's go get Daddy and Jinx." The two girls slipped off the stool and down the tiny hall to their parents' room. Mary and Eps did not follow them.

His voice broke the silence again. "And when they got down the hall?"

Mary wet her lips, cleared her throat before she could speak. "Daddy wasn't there. He hadn't been home since sometime the day before. When, it turns out, Jinx had sent him down to get our bikes from their hiding place." She stirred restlessly. "When, it turns out, he took them, hocked them and a few other choice items from around the house, cleaned out the checking account, and took off to do a little holiday gambling in ever-festive Vegas. Again."

She turned to face him. "Eps. Get me the hell out of here. I didn't need to see this again. Really."

Eps pointed her toward the little bedroom the two girls shared. The little drama had been unfolding itself behind them as she'd spoken, and Jinx's tears could be heard loud and long coming from her bedroom. Eps spoke over her. "There's one more thing you need to see here, one thing left to remember, Mary."

"Fine. Fine. What the-fuck-ever you say, Eps." She sighed and walked across the room, pushed open the door. Whatever is left can't hurt me any more than what I've just relived....

Young Mary sat on the tiny twin bed that was hers, knees folded up into that protective ball again, staring out the window. There were no tears on her face now. She knew now what had happened, and as she would do so often in her life, she was now just putting the pieces together and getting ready to go on as best she could. Below her, she could see the first few children coming out of the apartment buildings near them on their new bikes and skateboards, and she tried very hard to suppress the savage feeling of hate that burned through her.

Suddenly, a hand was laid on her tense shoulder. She looked around, surprised. It was Brandi, her eyes bright red from crying.

"What is it, Squish?" She tried to keep the anger and hurt out of her voice, tried to make her tone sweet for her little sister. She knew Brandi was probably more disappointed than she was. After all, Squish hadn't had as long to get used to this crap as she had....

Brandi was holding something behind her back with her other hand. She pulled it out and held it in front of her, offering it to Mary. "Merry Christmas, Mary. Don't be sad. I will give you Kitty for Christmas so you won't be sad, okay?" Young Mary looked down. It was Brandi's favorite toy, a stuffed cat with a fluffy pink bow. Brandi had found piece of red ribbon somewhere and tied an awkward bow around it. Young Mary felt her heart, already fragile from the pain of her father's betrayal, shatter. She gently took the cat from Brandi and held it to her chest.

"Thank you, Squish. I love it."

Brandi's uncertain gaze became a glorious smile, and she got on the bed with Mary, wrapping her arms around her waist. They sat looking down at the increasing number of children and bikes. Brandi looked at her after a moment and said, "Well, there's always next year, right?" Mary had squeezed her tight, stuffed cat pressed between them, and vowed that she'd take better care of them, find a way to protect them, find a way to ensure Brandi got her bike, something.....

Softly, she answered, "Right, Squish. Right. Merry Christmas."

Mary turned away and walked to the door of the apartment. She opened it, walked down the hall, punched the elevator button and stood impatiently waiting for it to arrive. The doors finally opened, and Eps, of course, was standing there leaning indolently against the wall studying his nails. She just looked at him, then got in and faced the front, steadfastly ignoring him, trying fervently to do the same to the turmoil rolling inside her. She had forgotten about Brandi and the stuffed cat....

"Pretty lame gift, really, though, wasn't it?" Eps voice was a sneer from the behind her. The elevator was in motion, and the lights on the indicator were changing. There was no muzak this time.

"Shut it, Eps. I don't want to talk about this anymore." Her voice was a tight, dangerous growl.

"But what was it really? I mean it was just a stuffed cat. And it wasn't in all that great a condition, either, was it? I mean, damn, was that supposed to take away the sting of losing a bike? Your sister must be exceptionally dim."

The doors to the elevator were opening, and Mary shot out of them not caring where they led this time. She was mildly surprised to find herself back in the office. She spun to find Eps right behind her.

"She gave me the most precious thing, she, a six-year-old kid, had in the whole world because she didn't want my Christmas to suck. I don't think that's lame, and by the way, who the hell even says lame anymore, you freak? And the condition of the gift didn't matter. It was the thought behind it that counted. She loved me and she wanted me to be happy. And for a little while, right there, before all the other shit that happened, we were. That's what it was. It was one of the best gifts I ever got, so quit trying to be nasty about it." Her breath was heaving, and she had backed him up to the wall.

He had begun to glow oddly again. It raised her irritation level almost unbearably for some reason. "In fact, stop talking, glowing, and messing with me in general, you freak. I have had more than enough of this, whatever it is." Eps was glowing even more brightly, and that chiming noise she'd heard when she first woke on the floor was filling the air again.

She looked around and she saw a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. She pulled it down and pulled the pin. "Let's see if I can't help you with part of that...." She sprayed the foam of the fire extinguisher at him, coating him in it, and the light only increased as did the sound. Screaming, Mary pulled the trigger again, releasing another stream of foam. She continued to coat him with the foam until suddenly the light winked out. Actually, the light didn't just wink out. All the lights in the office went out, and Mary was plunged into total darkness.

R&R everybody. Ghost 2 is up next. Anybody care to guess who it's going to be?