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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Artisticmom2 » Wed Dec 19, 2012 9:22 am

OK. I had to share. Completely unbetaed... I know I won't finish this anytime soon but I had to bang out Chapter one before it exploded out the top of my head. ;)

A Christmas Carol - Enterprise Style : Chapter One

Admiral Archer entered the gleaming building, striding along corridors full of beautiful paintings of space and many of its wonders. His back was straight, his gaze not wandering from his chosen path, his feet quieted by the plush red carpeting. Ensigns scurried to get out of his way as he strode past heading to his office. He noticed none of them, nor cared if he upset their work. In his mind, nothing in Starfleet was as important as his own field – exploration.

He entered his suite of offices and the cool air washed over him. His offices were a stark contrast to those of the rest of the building. While the building itself was modern in design, all glass and steel, Starfleet made an effort to make the offices within warm and welcoming. Once Jonathon had made admiral and had been given this assignment, he had put his own stamp upon this division. The offices in the Exploration branch were cold, stark, bleak, and pitiless. There was nothing here to distract his corps of ensigns from their appointed tasks.

As he strode past the open cubicles he could see his ensigns all bent over their star charts or reports, working diligently on finding new space for Starfleet to explore, more space in which to find new species, make treaties with them, and ensure the safety of Earth. The mission into the Expanse and then the Romulan War that followed had taught Archer a valuable lesson. The only good alien race was an alien race that entered into a treaty of non-aggression with them. After all, what was more important than that?

He allowed himself a small, barely imperceptible smile – it was good to be the boss, and it was good to have underlings who knew their place in the world, his world. He strode past his personal secretary and into his personal office, even colder and starker than that of his underlings.

Sitting down at his desk, he automatically glanced into the corner and regarded the empty dog bed lying there. He pursed his lips, clenching his jaw slightly but showed no other reaction. He was broken out of his reverie by his lieutenant entering the office. He turned his steely gaze upon him and the other man paled visibly.

“Sir? If I may?” the lieutenant started.

Admiral Archer continued to stare in silence at the small man before him.

The man straightened up and started again. “Sir, the ensigns and I would like to take an hour today for a small Christmas party. With your permission, sir, we’d start at 1530.”

Admiral Archer continued to stare at the lieutenant before him. The man swallowed nervously. Finally Archer spoke. “Fine, but I’ll expect you all in early tomorrow morning, by 0630, to make up the time.”

The man swallowed again, starting to perspire in the cold office. “But sir, tomorrow is Christmas, I thought Starfleet authorized leave...” he trailed off at seeing the expression on his superior’s face.

“Christmas is a poor excuse for closing Starfleet for a day. Space is infinite. We’ll never explore it all by taking breaks for silly holidays that no one wants any longer.” Archer growled his voice low. He spun his chair and regarded the old fashioned wall map of space that was framed and hung on the side wall of his office. It was his only concession to ornament or decoration. But it showed space as people once thought of it, as something finite, something conquerable. He contemplated the map a moment longer and then abruptly swung back to fix the lieutenant with a fierce glare.

“I’ll expect you all here early the day after. No excuses. Is that clear?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer he continued, “Unless you have anything else for me Lt. Cratchett, you’re dismissed.” With that Admiral Archer pushed the lieutenant from his mind and went back to the reports before him. There were too many parsecs of space and never enough time to explore them all, but he would continue to try.

_____

The morning had barely begun when Admiral Archer was disturbed again. He could hear a murmur of chatter coming towards his office, looking up he could see ensigns’ heads popping up from their cubicles, smiles on their faces as they greeted the visitor walking towards his office. Admiral Archer saw Lieutenant Cratchett rise and greet the man, dressed in civilian garb, and he wondered briefly how long it had been since the other man had retired. He sniffed, he hadn’t thought much of such a good explorer leaving the ranks of Starfleet to stay Earth-bound and have a family.

Lieutenant Cratchett ushered the grinning visitor into the office. “Sir, its Mr. Mayweather to see you sir.”

“I can see who it is, now get back to work.” He snarled, already on the defensive. He disliked these annual visits from his old helmsman. They reminded him of a time best forgotten.

“Merry Christmas, Captain!” said a beaming Travis Mayweather “I wanted to invite you to my annual Christmas party. All the old gang will be there.” he finished and placed a small, picture frame on the desk covered only in work, its corner covered in a beautiful bow.

“It’s Admiral to you, and no, thank you. Every year you invite me to your gathering and every year I refuse. When are you going to give it a rest? I’ve got more important things to do.” he gestured to his covered desk, completely disregarding the small gift.

“Aww, come on sir. You can’t live like this. This isn’t living. Relax and have fun once in a while. It didn’t kill you back in the days you were Captain Archer. What’s so different now that you’re Admiral Archer?”

Archer’s eyes flicked to the photo now sitting on his desk, it showed the senior bridge crew of the Enterprise, all of them smiling and happy and alive. One of them he was divided from forever, another of them was dead. “Who would be next?” he wondered momentarily. He came back to the present, annoyed that he had let his train of thought wander for even that moment.

“What’s different is that I have more responsibility, something you’ve forgotten all about, being retired. You keep Christmas in your way and I’ll keep it in mine.” he said disdainfully with another look at Travis’s sunny smile and civilian clothing. “Now get lost before I have you tossed out of the building. You’re not supposed to be in here anyhow.” And with that Archer went back to reading the top report on a tall stack waiting on his desk.

Travis wilted, pity in his eyes, and then forced a smile back on his face. “You’re always welcome, any time, we’d both love to see you.” he paused waiting for a reaction from the older man. Receiving none, he spoke again, softly this time, “Merry Christmas Captain.” and with that, he turned and left the office, wishing the lieutenant a merry Christmas on his way pass.



Sigh - ok. I feel better now for getting that on paper. Back to Christmas baking and wrapping. ;)
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Kathy Rose » Wed Dec 19, 2012 9:38 am

You big tease! You can't leave it at that! It's a wonderful reworking of the story, and the thing is... I can see the possibility of Archer turning into something like that. Poor Travis.
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby bluetiger » Wed Dec 19, 2012 10:55 pm

Artisticmom, :o No...there is no baking, there is no wrapping, there is only writing more of this. You cannot be so mean to us!
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Artisticmom2 » Thu Dec 20, 2012 8:44 am

Thanks guys! I appreciate the sentiments. It just so happened that one of my littles spent the day sick in bed yesterday :hurl - that combined with the fact I couldn't leave and run to the store for the eggs meant no baking. SO I had lots of time to bang out chapter two. I might even get to chapter three today :writer - now I have two sick kids in bed. I'll do the baking later. ;)

A Christmas Carol: Enterprise Style, Chapter Two (once again COMPLETELY unbetad)


The day was finished. Actually the day ended hours earlier, and although Archer had been good to his word and allowed a small, short Christmas party in the office, he had stayed for several more hours doing more work. In the military when the boss stays to work, everyone stays and works. He flipped the last report closed, stood up from his desk and collected his things. Leaving the office he stopped at his lieutenant’s desk.

“Lt. Cratchett, see to the closing up and make sure the word is passed that everyone is to be here by 0600 on 26 December.” he said tersely.

The weary lieutenant stood at attention and replied “Yes sir, good night sir, Merry Christmas sir,” and waited for the dismissing nod from his superior, inwardly cursing himself for the slip of adding Merry Christmas. After working for the admiral for so many years he knew his CO did NOT like the holiday.

Archer harrumphed at his secretary, paused for a good long moment keeping his tired lieutenant at attention longer then needed. Finally he nodded and left the department, his long legs striding down the hall, his feet now muted and back on the plush carpeting. He dismissed the office from his mind momentarily knowing his crew would do as ordered and see to everything before leaving the office for the night. He could hear the cleaning crew leaving the floor and starting on the one above him, it was later then he thought. Turning a corner in the almost deserted building he thought he heard something behind him, a subtle footfall muffled on the carpeting. Turning sharply, he saw nothing but empty carpeted hallway. Looking down he saw no footprints on the plush vacuumed carpeting save his own. Shaking himself, he continued briskly on his way.

As Archer strode out of the building and into the warm night air of San Francisco he thought of the invitation to Travis’s annual Christmas party. Every year Travis invited him, and every year he said no. He sincerely doubted that any of them really wanted to see him, and he had no desire to see anyone from that part of his life. Not since Trip had died, not since – he abruptly stopped that train of thought and concentrated on the walk home.

Jonathon Archer walked to and from work every day, rain or shine. Fortunately his apartment was not far from Starfleet headquarters and the walk helped him to focus on the needs of the day. As he approached the apartment complex he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He paused, mid-step, his eyes trying to pierce the gloom and mists of the shadows. There was nothing. His eyes fell on a restaurant, closed at the very late hour. The 602 Club.

His mind filled with the memories of the many times he drank there, drowning his sorrows and toasting his successes. Usually with Trip or A.G. But they were both dead now. Trip had been killed by hostile aliens, A.G. in a climbing accident. Coming out of his reverie, his pace increased, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings.

Upon gaining entrance to the building and standing outside his own door Archer began to relax as he punched in the access code and waited for the computer voice to grant him admission. All computers talked now and he found it a damn nuisance. What was wrong with silent computers like the ones he used back on Enterprise? He paused, waiting on the gentle feminine voice of the central computer.

“Access granted Jonnie.” sang out an unfamiliar voice, the door whooshing open before him.

Archer jumped back from the door in alarm. That voice was not that of the central computer. If Archer knew it couldn’t be, he would have sworn he had heard A.G..

But A.G. Robinson was dead.
Very dead.
For many years.

He had to be hallucinating. Perhaps it was all the recent late nights catching up with him. Archer stood there and shook his head, trying to clear it, like a dog shaking off water. He eased towards the door, wishing he had a phase pistol on him and quickly poked his head through the open doorway. Seeing nothing, he entered his apartment quickly and closed the door behind him, making sure it was locked.

After a quick shower and a stiff drink to get over his earlier scare he spent the rest of the evening in front of his computer, continuing to go over reports and charts. He sat in his pajama bottoms, bare chested, but still in shape despite his age. The only change in his physique was his grey hair and wrinkles, the wrinkles were more frown lines then age. He rarely smiled any longer, and when he did, it was with no warmth.

He ate absently from a plate off to the side, a sad looking resequenced bit of catfish that the housekeeper/cleaning lady had left for him. The doorbell chimed once, and then again, and again, continuing on, shattering his concentration and bringing him out of his chair in an explosion of anger.

“Damn kids,” he growled as he rushed to the door and punched the button to open it. He was greeted by an empty hallway. No one was there. There was also a lack of noise, no running footsteps. His eyes widened briefly, remembering his earlier upset. Sighing in frustration he closed the door and turned back to his computer. He stopped, completely still. Leaning against the desk with a drink in his hand was none other than his old friend A.G. Robinson.

“Hey there, Jonnie.” said A.G.

Jon continued to stare at the vision before him. He was able to discern that the person in front of him was not actually there, he could see through him. Was he a hologram or some sort of a projection?

“No, I’m not a hologram. And before you go looking for a projector I am, in fact, an honest to goodness ghost.”

“There’s no such thing.” snapped Jonathon, looking around for a projector of some sort.

“Is to, and you need to listen up, I don’t have much time here. I’m out on good behavior, so knock it off and listen up.” replied A.G. as he stood up, set his drink down on the desk, and came towards Jonathon. The drink disappeared as soon as the apparition’s fingers left the glass.

“What? Out of where?” Jonathon replied absently, still looking for a source of what he was sure a projection.

“Out of… never mind where. You don’t want to visit. Look, after the attack on Earth you’ve spent your life being miserable to those around you, to those you care most about.”

“I don’t care about anyone.” replied Jon as he walked slowly around A.G., eyes narrowed in concentration.

"You care about your dog. Where is Porthos, by the way?" A.G. scanned the room, falling on the empty dog bed by the desk.

“He's dead - he died a few years back. And you're wrong, I don't care about anyone."

"Right, you were never a good liar. You haven't gotten rid of his bed, you still love your dog, and you're probably still pining after that little cutie." A sad smile crossed the ghost's face. "Anyhow, if I hadn’t been even busier with my career then you I would have gone after that little cutie you had back in the day. But I could never be bothered to form any lasting relationships, there were too many things to do, places to explore.” Another drink materialized itself in his hand, he took a sip and grimaced, then continued. “So I was alone, miserable, driven, and alone. Now I’m dead, and still miserable and alone. I’m just not working anymore.” A.G. paused seeing that Archer still wasn’t giving him his full attention, he downed his drink, tossed the glass into thin air, and floated towards Archer eventually passing right through him. Archer shuddered and gasped.

“See, I told you I was a real ghost and all. Didn’t feel too good me floating through you, did it? Like I was saying, I was sent here to warn you about your mission. You’re messing up your life real good and if you don’t knock it off, you’ll drop dead of a coronary and end up with me. And as much as I’d love some company, you don’t want to spend eternity where I am. It makes that whole episode of falling off the face of that cliff and bouncing all the way down look like a picnic. But I didn’t have a climbing partner at that point because I had no friends!” he barked, looking at Archer to gauge the effects of his words. Archer was still busy trying to warm up; having a ghost pass through him had a chilling effect.

“Anyhow, you’ll be visited by three spirits tonight and I’d listen to everything they have to say.” A.G. faded out briefly and then came back clearly. “Ah, that’s my cue to go. It was nice chatting with you Jon. I’ve missed you. We were friends once, and I think back on that time often. Don’t forget to listen to these guys, and don’t let that catfish sit there – eat up, it’s a crime to let good catfish go to waste. Your other old friend Trip would be disappointed in you.” and with that he slowly started to fade and expand, eventually becoming so large and transparent that he faded from the room entirely.

Archer was left standing there, mouth open, still trying to figure out what had happened.
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Kathy Rose » Thu Dec 20, 2012 9:37 am

Oh, I'm sorry the kids are sick, but glad you had time to write this chapter. I was wondering which character would appear to Jon before the three spirits. A.G. seems the perfect choice.

Loved this line... I’m out on good behavior :lol:
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby bluetiger » Thu Dec 20, 2012 10:27 am

I love it. This is making me so happy at a time when I really need some good cheer. Wish the kids were better but I love this story.
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Reanok » Thu Dec 20, 2012 12:35 pm

:clap Sorry your kids are ill but thank you so much for continuing this story.I really like it alot! :congrats :mademyday :bow :spacecraft :bolian :bolian
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Artisticmom2 » Thu Dec 20, 2012 4:17 pm

Alrighty, here is chapter three. Still unbetaed. I think it needs some massaging but that'll have to wait till after the holidays. :roll:

A Christmas Carol: Enterprise Style, Chapter Three

Admiral Archer wasn’t sleeping well that night. After having a stiff drink in the aftermath of his other-worldly visit from A.G., Archer climbed into bed, giving up on work as a lost cause. He tossed and turned for quite a while before finally dropping off. When he did, his dreams were troubled.

The doorbell chimed once, and then again, and again, continuing on, waking him out of a sound sleep. He sat bolt upright in bed, staring across the long room towards the door. He rose and uncertainly walked towards the door, unsure if he really wanted to answer it at that late hour. While he didn’t believe anything he had seen earlier, a part of him knew the universe was too vast to write off such a strange evening like his.

Reaching the door, his hand almost to the button, the door chimed stopped. He withdrew his hand with a small sigh of relief and turned back towards the bed. For a second time this evening he was startled. A man was standing in front of the picture windows looking out over the night time skyline of San Francisco. Dressed in a black uniform, his hands behind his back, he stood at parade rest. No, it wasn’t a man, it was an alien, Archer just noticing the antennae that bent forward in interest as the alien continued to inspect the view. Without looking over the alien said “Evening Pink Skin.”

“Shran? …But what are you… How did you…?” Archer trailed off, concerned for his own sanity at this point.

Shran turned from the window and came towards Jon, who was still standing in the middle of his apartment. “Last question first, don’t concern yourself how I got here, you wouldn’t understand. What am I? An Andorian, last time I checked. And whom did you expect tonight? The… what is that Earth custom? The tooth fairy? Yes. That’s it. You got me tonight, Pink Skin, and we’re on a schedule so if you’ll come over here we can be off.” he finished brusquely.

“Go where?” replied Archer warily, not coming any closer.

“Didn’t A.G. tell you anything while he was here? Typical pink skin. I’m the ghost of Christmas Past, and once again, we’re on a schedule.” Shran finished and came forward and grasped Archer’s bare shoulder.

As Shran touched Archer they both dematerialized as if by transporter. Rematerializing Shran let go of Archer and Jon swung around wildly, trying to figure out where he had been taken.

“You realize this is kidnapping! Starfleet won’t stand for it once they find out!” Jon said, panic tingeing his voice.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be home soon enough, after I’ve shown you what needs to be seen. Look around, where are we?” Shran replied calmly, a smirk playing across his lips.

Archer looked at his surroundings and recognized them instantly. Wonder in his voice he replied, “We’re at my old boarding school in northern California. I haven’t been here since I was a boy.”

Shran looked around with interest. “Boarding school? Hmm. Let’s go inside and see what there is to see.” Catching Archer’s panicked look he continued, “Don’t worry, we can’t be seen. Consider this one of those new holo-dramas. We can walk through it, but the characters are no more than illusions to us.” With that he turned and walked through the wall of the nearest building.

Jon looking once more at his bare-footed and chested self then shrugged and walked after Shran steeling himself to hit the wall but feeling nothing as he walked right through it. Coming through the wall he stood next to Shran who was standing in a class room full of boys collecting their things, class had apparently finished for the day.

“Hey Jon!” said a boy by the window.

Archer started in surprise at being addressed and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Shran.

“Save your breath Pink Skin. Remember I said they wouldn’t be able to see us. This is all just a memory, your memory.”

Jonathon shut his mouth and watched the drama unfold.

“You leaving this year Jon?” asked the boy who had spoken.

Young Jon Archer stood up from where he had been loading his books into a satchel and didn’t meet the other boy’s eyes. “Nope. I’ve got too many things to work on.”

The boy rolled his eyes and turned away, heading for the door. Speaking as if Jon was slow, he said, “Relax Jon, you’re always working. Christmas break is just that, a break!” the boy shook his head as he headed out the classroom door.

Shran turned to look at Archer, who was staring at the scene before him obviously lost in thought.

“Why’d you stay?” Shran asked, breaking into Jon’s thoughts.

Jon replied, still staring at the scene before him, “I always had work to do. I wanted to… want to explore the stars and I knew that only the best would have the chance at piloting the first warp ship.”

Shran looked shrewdly at the boy Jon before him. “Was that the only reason you stayed behind?”

Jon, the man, shrugged and turned away as if to inspect the rest of the room, “I had no one to go home to. By this point Mom was dead and Dad was busy with the warp program. I wanted to stay here and study.” His voice almost sounding unconcerned, but not quite.

“Hmm. Not very convincing, are you?” Shran replied at Jon’s back, Shran’s antennae turning back in a sign of displeasure. “A.G. mentioned you were a bad liar.”

Archer turned abruptly and glared at Shran, “O.K. I had a lousy childhood. Mom died, Dad was beside himself with grief and threw himself into the only thing that gave him relief from his pain. I was sent off to school so that Dad didn’t have to surface from his research to deal with reality. He never wanted me to come home. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he snarled. Jon’s face clouded in anger.

“That’s a start, Pink Skin. I believe the first step to healing is acceptance.” Shran replied with calm. He took Archer’s arm and guided him back through the wall. “Let’s take a look at a few other scenes from your past and see what other mistakes you can come to accept.” And so saying, the scene in front of the faded slowly as if it was melting.

Slowly a new scene came into being around them. Starfleet colors hung from banners around the walls of a large room filled with people, all in uniform. People bustled here and there clearly setting up for a party of some sort. Shran released Jon’s arm and looked around.

“So where are we now, Pink Skin?” Shran’s antennae swiveled back and forth in a sign of interest as he took in the sight around him.

Archer gazed around him, his expression clearing into one of happy surprise. “This was old Captain Fezziwig’s lecture hall. This is the night of one of his annual Christmas parties.” He replied as he started to wander around the room looking at those before him.

“Fezziwig? Odd name. But then lots of things about you humans are strange.” replied Shran trailing along in Archer’s wake.

“You should talk. You’re the one with antennae sprouting out the top of your head.” Jon said absently, continuing to stare at those around him.

“Have you spotted yourself yet?” Asked Shran, ignoring the jib.

“Not yet – wait, there I am.” Jon indicated a man rushing into the room, much younger than the present Admiral Archer, but clearly older than most of the people around him.

The young Jonathon Archer strode through the crowd, intent on the elderly Captain directing the party preparations.

“Excuse me, captain? Can I have a word with you?” said the young Jonathon Archer.

“Lieutenant! What can I help you with?” asked the genial old man.

“I just wanted you to check these figures on the new warp engine. Tucker and I were going to test it later tonight. Since you’re at the top of the warp field, I wanted you to take a look at this before we went forward.” was the earnest reply.

“Jonathon, its Christmas Eve. Relax. The warp program can wait a day or two. I know for a fact that Mr. Tucker isn’t going to be working tonight either as he is over there helping move tables and setting up the dance floor.” The captain replied, taking young Jon by the elbow and steering him into the crowd. “In fact,” he continued, taking the padd out of the younger man’s hands, you can help my newest pupil, Ensign Sato hang the garlands. She’s too short to reach all the hooks.” he finished as he stopped in front of a young Asian woman.

“Ms. Sato, let me introduce to you a friend of mine, Lt. Archer. Lt. Archer, Ms. Sato.” Captain Fezziwig said, as the young lady looked up from the box she was pulling garland out of.

Archer’s eyes met the young woman’s. He looked as if he had been slapped in the back of the head. Her mouth formed a small “o” of surprise.

Fezziwig’s eyes twinkled as he continued on, speaking to the both of them. “Hoshi, Jon’s here to help hang the garland, I didn’t think you could reach everything. He’s a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, so see if you can’t convince him to have a good time tonight.” A small smile started to cross the old man’s face at the blush that started to form on her porcelain face.

“Jon, Hoshi’s the brightest student I’ve ever come across in all these many years I’ve been teaching here. Play nice, or she’ll have you for dinner.” he said playfully, winking at Jon and slapping him on the shoulder as he walked off to direct more preparations.

Shran looked at the man standing beside him. “So this is where you met her?”

The elder Archer stood looking very much like the younger one, stunned. “Yes…” he replied softly, his eyes not leaving the woman’s face.

“I always wondered about that.” Shran mused, and then shook himself out of his reverie. He took a firm hold of Archer’s elbow and steered him back through the crowd.

Archer tried to twist out of Shran’s grasp. “Hang on, let’s watch the rest of the evening.”

“No, sorry, we’ve still got one more memory to look at and I’ve got a schedule to keep.” Shran replied indifferently as they walked through the wall once more and into yet another scene.

The new scene coalesced around them, another office in Starfleet headquarters. The room was stark, an antique map of the stars on one wall, a dog bed in the corner, Porthos curled up watching the room’s inhabitants intently, his tail tucked tightly around him, his ears drooping. They had walked into the middle of a fight.

“When then?” the woman, an older Hoshi, asked intently.

“Soon, but later. Things with the new federation aren’t quite settled yet!” replied the man, an older Archer, coming to his feet.

“I left my teaching position and followed you to the stars. I followed you to the Expanse and back! You told me we’d be together once we saved the Earth. That was years ago!” she replied, heat in her words.

“I know,” said Jon, coming around the desk and taking her by the hands. “But the timing just isn’t right. I can’t leave this to anyone else.” he said, frustration making his voice sharp.

Hoshi bowed her head, looking at their clasped hands. Stepping back she pulled her hands out of his and pulled a chain out from the neck of her uniform. Taking the chain off, she opened it and unthreaded the ring it held. Without looking at him she laid the ring gently on the desk.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore.” she said quietly, still not meeting his gaze.

“But, I still want –“ he pleaded.

“No,” Hoshi cut him off, “I don’t think you do anymore. I think you want this,” she indicated the star map, the room, the building, “more then you want me, and I can’t be second in your life any longer.” She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

“Good-bye Jon.” she said simply and she turned and left the room.

The room fell silent; the younger Jon picked up the ring and held it in his closed fist, staring at the star map on the wall, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he clenched his jaw.

“Well, that was painful to watch. I never wanted to ask what happened with you two. Now I know.” said Shran with a shrug. “You were an idiot to let her go.” he continued as he turned to look at the Jon Archer beside him. There were tears in Archer’s eyes as he stared at the door Hoshi had left through.

“You’re right, I was.” Jon replied in a quiet, broken voice.

“Well, we’re done here. I’ve got to get you back. The next spirit will be coming for you shortly.” and saying this he took Archer’s elbow once more and steered the other man through the wall and back into his apartment.
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Reanok » Fri Dec 21, 2012 3:05 pm

This a wonderful addition to your story Artistic Mom.A different take of the Scrooge story Bravo! :clap
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Re: Christmas-themed fanfic and fanart

Postby Kathy Rose » Fri Dec 21, 2012 5:52 pm

Shran is perfect as the ghost of Christmas past. And Hoshi!

Your take on this classic is wonderful!
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