"Witch," Engie rumbles, and I bump his arm.
"That's not very nice."
"No, like," he points to them. "Their class name is Witch."
"Oh," I sigh. "Who... Who are you?"
"Name's Witch. I do witchy things." They wear a red biker jacket with a pentagram on their patches, jeans, and a fishnet bodysuit with a black bra under. "Also, before you ask. I'm not a girl, nor am I a boy. Please refer to me as four raccoons in a trench coat," they quickly explain. "But, hey, I've got a proposition for you. I heard you've got a Smissmas Naysayer on the premises."
I look over to the second person, and I immediately take a step back. "No, no, no. Merasmus, Witch, leave."
"Don't worry, it's fine," Witch calmly muses. "I'm his probation officer. He's doing community service right now."
Engie and I look at each other. He leans over and whispers to me. "You believe 'em?"
Merasmus lifts his leg and sets it down on the table, revealing an ankle monitor. "Merasmus...! Was tried in a court of law."
"And you got away with only probation?" Engie's skepticism is at an all-time high. "You oughta be charged with assault and battery as well. Three counts if we're just talking about you chucking around that stick like it was garbage."
Witch lifts their eyebrows. "Assault and battery, you say?" They readjust atop the table and fold their legs. "At any rate, we got some reports of a, uh, Disbeliever. Would we be right?"
"Yeah," I tell hesitantly. "Spy."
"You know what we do to those who don't carry the Smissmas spirit?" They ask, sounding almost like a threat and rhetorical question. "We help them find it once again."
I squint. "Wait, this is just the plot to Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol."
"No," Witch sternly asserts. "It's community service. To amend his Halloween wrongdoings, Merasmus must complete a course in Generosity and Unconditional Kindness. Christmas time is when we do this because it forces the wizard, witch, warlock, sorcerer, or whoever the offender may be to use their magic for good."
"Spy isn't even a Scrooge," I digress. "He just doesn't like the holidays. It's not like he revoked our right to a day off or something."
"There are no small parts, Miss Fredrickson," Merasmus mutters while shaking a fist as though he's reciting a line. I'm more surprised he remembered my name. "Quickly, we much find a jovial associate of his."
I put my pistol into the open brown pouch on Engie's hip. "For one of the Sprirts?"
"To incite the will to have him to change to do better," he volleys. I roll my eyes as Engie thinks.
"I don't know... Sniper's always been pals with him. Oh, Alpha, too. The three of them are usually a team for contracts. I dunno that much in particular about Spy." Engie sets his shotgun down on the table. "Those are all the people I can think of that he tolerates."
Witch nods. "Only thing is is that we already recruited them." They check their wrist as if they have a watch. "We're running a bit behind schedule. You two might do."
I lean over to Engie. "Should we really be helping them? I don't know, this doesn't feel right."
"I got that feelin'. too. Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye out on the off chance they're tellin' the truth."
I trust Engie, and he seems to trust his gut, so I turn to Witch again. "If you think it'll help rehabilitate Merasmus, we're willing... I guess."
"Good," Witch shrugs. "I would've just arrested you for possession if you declined."
"Possession of what?" I sputter.
"I don't know, illegal runes or something."
"None of those are on our person," Engie argues.
"Check your pockets," Witch mischievously requests. I tap my thigh and feel a lump. Digging into my hoodie pocket, I pull out a rock with glowing lines on it. "I'd put that away if I were you." They stand up and pick up a staff of their own from the ground. A wooden stick with a large clear crystal on one edge with bells. On the midway point of the stick is a tiny bag and a bird feather. They use the bare end to draw in the gravel. Once they're done, they tap the stick twice in the dirt and both of the magic users vanish with a sparkle and glow of the crystal on their staff.
We stand in silence for a moment before looking at each other. Engie laughs. "We can just dispose of these." He flattens his lips and stands still before writhing and screaming. Just as soon as he starts, he stops and pops out of existence, his yell echoing throughout the area. I hoot in disbelief and feel a pit widen in my stomach. It burns before it bursts into a sharp pain, and I inhale to shout before I teleport and appear again in the night's dark next to Engie. He pants as he has a hand on the wall and leans over his knees. "Sonuva bitch!"
He wheezes, phlegm invading his throat as he begins to coughs. I pat my stomach pocket as if it'd have an inhaler in it, but he digs into his pocket and pulls one out. His fingers fumble to take off the cover, and I take it to speed along the process. Shaking the tube, popping off the cap, and handing it back to him allows him to depress the canister. I help him stand upright as he inhales deeply and exhales before taking another puff.
"Are you okay?" I question, sounding more frantic than I counted on.
He presses the tiny piece of plastic back into place, a slightly raspy voice. "I'll be fine."
"Sorry for the bumpy ride," Witch apologizes, walking up behind us both and using the crystal on their staff as a light source. I almost feel like cursing them out, but I have to keep a level head in these kinds of situations. Witch is a probation officer after all. Or so they say. I sense a threatening aura afoot, and I'm fairly certain it's coming from the four raccoons in a trench coat. They're not even wearing a trench coat. I really don't trust these two.
"Hey, Witch," I start, trying to sound neutral on the ordeal, "on top of 'where are we?' I'd also like to ask 'aren't you a bit too young to be a probation officer?'"
"Yes, yes I am," they nod. "But, to answer your first question, we are at Spy's place of residence." They ball their hand into a fist and open it again, yellow light emanating in their palm as they pass it over to me. I am holding light. "It's like a light switch. Just close your hand to turn it off."
I close my fingers inward and the light goes away. "Oh, I don't like this."
"And, one more thing," they strain as they dig into their front pocket and throw dust at me and Engie. "Zing! Ghost make-up. It wears off in an hour or two."
Engie's glowing with a very faint daffodil yellow hue and is inherently translucent. I grow more worried as I look down at myself and view my shoes through my hands. "Oh, I don't like this." Magic is one of the few things I have no wish to take part in. But, we have no other choice if we want to finish out tonight without a curse or a hex put on us for not complying. Would a hex be the equivalent of a ticket or a citation? A fine? How would you get rid of it?
"Imagine how I feel," Merasmus complains deadpan, rounding the corner with Sniper and Alpha in tow. Alpha looks tired out of her mind, and I wouldn't expect anything less if she's getting dragged out of bed at roughly four o'clock in the morning to get powder thrown at her to tell her friend that he needs to stop being a Scrooge when he's really not. She yawns but doesn't make any inquires to why she's here, as if she knows the exact purpose for this venture.
Witch hands their staff off to Merasmus. "Okay, Smissmas Present time."
I shake my head. "Wait no, we didn't do Jacob Marley and Chris-- Smissmas Past yet."
"Yeah, we did, Luv," Sniper says, a foggy figure before me. "We're just going a bit out of order. Alpha's Smissmas Future."
"What did it look like?" I ask. There's not much I know about Spy, and she clearly knows more than I do.
Alpha snidely chiggers, a dry quality about her laugh. She never answers me, and I can only assume it's bleak or hilariously pitiful. Merasmus motions for me and Engie to follow him. "I'll do all of the magical parts, you do all of the Smissmassing parts." I remain in place, unsure of how to advance, so Engie takes my hand to lead us along. We go back around the absolute monster of a mansion Spy has. This puts the DeGroot household to shame at the pure magnitude, and it's really making me think about the disproportionate payment of the team.
I feel the rough, cool bricks that make up the foundation. We walk on one side of a line of hedges. Sounds of running water from afar indicate there's a fountain on the premises of a larger scale. Walking around the perimeter makes me feel as though I've been casing the building forever, and it almost makes me mad. Why did he leave Scout and Stacy like that on their own? He could've easily sent checks and such through the mail to pay some kind of off-the-records child support, but he didn't. He sat high and mighty on his hill and still refuses to do anything about his son.
Stacy refuses to do anything, either, but she's probably protecting him from what hurts. Maybe she's like Leo. She didn't earn the money, so it's not worth her using. Whatever the case may be, Scout ended up being the one to suffer the most in the end. He didn't grow up with a father and now Spy's right next to him, doing financial circles around him and constantly deciding to be emotionally hostile. If he doesn't anger me, he- at least- pisses me off.
We arrive at the conveniently placed ladder that enters Spy's room on the second floor when I believe this place of establishment has three. I grumble and get on the ladder first so I don't risk having to look up Merasmus's dress and see something not meant for mortal eyes. Why we couldn't teleport directly in is beyond me since we're breaking and entering anyway you want to look at it, but I digress. Guess we're on a budget. Once I get to the top, I carefully transfer inside to keep the noise to a minimum as Engie stumbles his way in and Merasmus trips over a footrest. I flex my fingers and turn my nightlight back on for the sole reason we don't die before we get charged with misdemeanors.
Merasmus walks across the landscape-wide area and stops at a king-sized bed to stare down at Spy. I push him back and yell-whisper. "You're going to give him a heart attack."
"He can't see me."
Merasmus nudges me forward, and I panic a little inside. "Spy, wake up~" I quietly hum.
Spy spazzes out upon awakening. He snaps his head to look at the two of us. Seeing his face without his mask is always jarring at first. "What the fuck is it now? J'essaye de dormir."
I meekly talk. "Je m'excuse à l'avance, nous avons été forcés d'être ici."
"Merde," Spy seethes, getting out of bed in his silk pajamas. My lung releases air in a discontent way. "And what are you two doing in my house?"
Engie speaks. "We're the, uh, the apparitions of your, uh, Smissmas Present," he mystifies, wiggling his fingers as if that makes it more enchanting. "We're not real by the way, we're just figments of your grander imagination."
Spy lets his eyes roll into the back of his head and he holds his hand out. "Yes, I know this is a long-running nightmare, Laborer. Hand down your torture sentence and then let me go back to sleep so I can end this cycle." I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or genuinely thinks he's asleep right now. I take his hand and glance over at Merasmus hoping he's going to do his part.
Merasmus twirls the staff in a small circle, and an ethereal crimson aura surrounds us as the bells jostle. We're set in a study, books on shelves and cabinets full of liquor. The air is lukewarm, a draft continually blowing through. Wood in the fireplace crackles and illuminates some room, the curtains draped over windows to block out the light. I tug Spy toward the far corner of the room by the mantle, a lone sitting chair resting there.
"A normal Smissmas for you would have you sitting here, right?" I inquire, pointing to the furniture.
"Yes," he answers. I can't see Merasmus, but I can hear the bells on the staff jingling and a hazy figure of Spy is sitting in the chair with a cigarette in between his fingers as he reads a book. "Alcohol would rest on that side table."
A glass of whiskey appears on the light brown wooden stool beside him. I furrow my brows. "And that's it?"
"Maybe I make a casserole or pasta, but yes. This is it."
"You're alone during Smissmas," I say. "There's nothing wrong with being alone, but... Every year? All the time?"
"Company is taxing."
"Not if you surround yourself with people you enjoy being with," I differ, nodding to Merasmus as I walk Spy over to the other side of the room with Engie. It shows what would be our Christmas day. We're finishing up preparations for dinner, Darlene calling Josie, Sam, and Salvador in from taking care of the puppies. I'm cooking with Darlene, and I pull a cookie sheet out of the oven, setting it on top of the stove and taking off my oven mitts as Engie comes behind to inspect.
"Hey, dessert after dinner," I giggle, pushing him back.
"Who needs dessert when I've got a nice treat right here?" He fires back, turning me around to face him, and gives me a minuscule peck on the lips in hopes that Darlene won't notice, but she hoots and playfully messes with her son.
Engie stands next to Spy and points. "That's family right there, Spy."
The Frenchman runs his hand over his face. "And I do not have one, so your argument is futile. I would enjoy it if you would allow me to sleep."
"Family is whatcha make it," he continues. "Mona and I could've just went about our holidays like we usually do, but we went at it together." We sit, and we hold hands around the table, Salvador having banter with Sam over who gets to say grace before Darlene decides she'll do it. "And I know that Demo, Alpha, and Sniper have been askin' ya for years. You do gotta family, you're just pushing 'em away."
He looks considerate for a moment, and I continue. "And Alpha already showed you your future if you continue to turn them down. You can either have this-" I point to the scenario with me and Engie before turning and pointing to Spy alone in his chair, "or that. The choice is yours." Spy sighs, shaking his head and rubbing his eye.
"You are both speaking nonsense. Let me rest."
Engie pats Spy's back and shakes his head when he looks up at him. "Ya chose rather poorly."
The illusion fades, and I let go of Spy's hand. He climbs back into bed and pulls his covers on as we back away and exit through the window and use the ladder to descend. Witch waits expectantly with their arms crossed as we come back, a smug face on. "See why we're doing this, yet?"
I nod. "I guess he is a bit of a Scrooge," I sigh, surrendering my credence. It's sad, hearing him say he has no family despite having friends who will fill in. Even his biological family- Scout- offered to be with him, and he met Scout with opposition. "Who's Smissmas Past?"
Witch takes their staff back. "You'll find out soon." They tap their staff on the ground twice. "Be right back." The crystal glows and they're gone again. I have a bad feeling about this all. We stand around in near silence as we await Witch's return, Alpha and Sniper's ghost make-up fading at a rapid pace. I stare at the orb of light in my palm, treating it as though it was hope. Hope that Spy would finally man up and tell Scout he's related to him. Hope that I'm dreaming and that I still work with Miss Pauling and that she never said those things. Hope that Engie doesn't decide he's not all that into me. Hope that Salvador doesn't grow up to be like me. Hope that things will get better.
Alpha's anxious. Her thumbnail is between her teeth, and she nibbles and gnaws away while staring at the ground. She sits on the pedicured lawn next to Sniper, the Aussie picking at blades of grass. They both pretend they didn't hear me when I asked them who they think Smissmas Past would be. Engie proposed Demo given that he's offered many times and gets turned down, but I reminded him that Witch's pool is limited by who's at the fort. But that theory got chucked out the window when we both looked at Alpha. Pyro would be a good bet, but I already know who it's going to be.
Scout walks around the corner of the house, brooding. Alpha gasps when she sees him and stares wide-eyed, covering her mouth. Sniper lights a cigarette, of all the things to be doing right now. Scout's brows flatten above his eyes, and his lips press together as he pouts. Arms crossed and a striped red and green elf's hat atop his head, Scout is not one happy camper. "I don't understand why I gotta help Spy."
"Check your pockets," Witch suggests to him, and he pulls out another rock with random glowing symbols on them. He groans.
"Ugh, fine. Let's just get this over with."
Witch throws ghost make-up at him. "Zing! There you go." He glares at them before walking off with Merasmus when the wizard takes the staff. The light vanishes when I clench a fist. I sneak behind the two of them, tailing at a safe distance and hanging back during their ascension to Spy's room. Once they're in, I carefully crawl up, but stay outside, my head below the windowsill so I can listen in.
"Wake up, breadstick," Scout pressures. "Smissmas Past care package and I'm about to show you how much I don't care." Spy has no curse to say as he simply goes:
"Scout." There's a pause of silence. "Do your worst."
The bells jingle, and I peer inside now that there's the distraction of the soft pale blue aura that surrounds them to make up the past. It's Scout's house, and he looks confused as he watches a little girl. She looks about three or four and is constantly being ignored by Stacy for her other brothers, the oldest one twelve.
"Ma always liked Aaron more," Scout starts, unsure of where to go with this. Scout said he's the youngest of an all-boys household, though. Who's she? "He was the one who always got more presents than the rest of us 'cause he was the oldest. We relied a lot on our dads to fill in that gap. But you wouldn't know anything about that since you're rich, huh, Fancy Pants?"
The doorbell rings, and Stacy wades through her horde of children to answer it. A man stands on the other side, and two of the boys that look exactly like each other identify him as their father to give him a hug. Scout crosses his arms and scowls, his fingernails digging into his bicep. The men who come by are on relatively neutral terms with Stacy for the sake of their sons, and the kids still like them well enough to engage willingly in an interaction. I have no clear indication of where Scout is in all of this, and the girl's the only one who hasn't had someone come by.
Flakes.
The girl walks into the kitchen. "Ma," she calls her. "Mommy."
"Not now, Jacquelyn, I'm cooking dinner," Stacy groans, tired.
"Mom," she tries again.
One twin pushes her away by the face. "Move it, twerp. Unless you're gonna help, get out."
She sighs. "Sascha, be nice to your sister, she's your only one."
"Leave," Sascha pushes her out, Jacquelyn protesting and crying her entire way out until she's left to her devices in the hallway. The doorbell rings, and Jacquelyn makes her way over. Aaron shoves her out of the way and looks through the peephole, opening the door and walking away when he sees his face. Present day Scout gawks, staring at the young man in the doorway in a trench coat as he picks up the small child before him. Stacy comes out of the kitchen, not very pleased.
"Mon petit chou," Spy coos regarding his daughter, holding her on his hip. He looks up at Stacy. "I can no longer do this."
"Why not?" She asks. "I'm asking for bare minimum here, Jean."
"It is too dangerous," he answers, hugging the young girl.
"You're a detective, it's always gonna be dangerous. That doesn't mean you should abandon your girl." She's at her wit's end. She's exhausted. All the men in her life having dumped the responsibility on her and one of them was giving it up to her full-time. "Birthdays and holidays, too much for ya? Huh?"
"Please, Stacy, do not make it worse."
"I'm gonna make it worse, you're leaving her without a father."
"She has six others to choose from. I would not have been a great fit for her at all."
"You are right now," she pleads. "Jean, I'm beggin' here, don't."
"You already know I am more than a detective, Stacy, and I feel it would be best if my child grew up not knowing what it is I do. In all honesty, I do not deserve her. I shall trust you will do just fine."
She motions to her kids by the small tree in the front room. "With all of this?" The two of them stare at each other, the icy wind blowing in from the door as he refuses to step inside. Jacquelyn shivers, and Spy holds her closer, a somber look on his younger face. They look so much like each other. They have the same hair and the same nose, even down to their facial shape. Spy decides he's been there too long and sets her back down.
"Papa doit partir maintenant."
Jacquelyn frowns.I know what this is. "Pour combien de temps?" I know what this is, and it's painful. Scout knew French once upon a time.
"Tu ne me reverras plus jamais, mon petit chou. Je suis désolé." Those words are so cold. Empty. They're hollow. But full of love.
"You will never see me again, my little cabbage. I'm sorry."
Spy kisses him on the forehead and stands up, stepping out into the winter, never to return. I feel what Scout's feeling. He just disappeared one day and never told him why. Never once sent a letter. Not even a phone call. But it's worse. He was standing right next to him for six years. I try my best not to cry. Scout breathes heavily and looks over at Spy. "What'd you go and do that for, huh?" Spy has nothing to say, and Scout lunges at him. He grabs his shirt and shakes him as he yells. "Huh? Huh, you old bastard? What'd you go and do that for? You piece of shit, why?"
His voice cracks with pain, and I climb down the ladder before I have to hear anymore. Scout knows, oh god Scout knows. I race around the corner, Sniper and Alpha both looking up at me. Alpha holds herself as she looks away in shame. "Cat's out of the bag, isn't it?"
"Dear, what's the matter?" Engie asks.
"It's bad," I sigh. "Real bad."
"What happened in there?" He furthers, putting his hand on my arm. I shake my head, and he hugs me. "It's that kinda bad, ain't it?"
I nod, feeling my face straining from trying not to lose it. "Witch, send us home."
"Uh, I would, but I need my staff."
Sniper stands up. "Crikey, mate, this isn't a matter of being showy. We've gotta go home. Now."
"Okay, chill. Uhm... I just need to..." They pat their legs and then their jacket pocket looking for something. "Hey, can you give me that illegal rune in your pocket?" I move one arm and search around in my jacket pocket and reach behind Engie to give it to them. They throw it at the brick wall- breaking it- to open a portal back to the fort. "Just walk on through."
"Hey!" Someone from the bushes behind us shouts. "Stop! You're under arrest for magic laundering!"
"Shit," Witch grumbles. "Go, go, leave. We'll get Scout back to you, just--" They push us into the portal, and Engie and I are the last ones in. "G-Get in there."
I stumble through, and Engie catches me before I fall to the ground. We're in the kitchen, and Soldier looks over from taking a sheet of cookies out of the stove. "Where did you appear from, spirits that look suspiciously like Sniper and Alpha and Accomplice and Engie?" He demands an answer, putting the sheet down and pointing at us with oven mitts on his hands. "Do you have passports?"
"Solly, it is us," Engie tells. "We got tangled up with Witch and 'em again." He turns to me and pulls me aside to the armory when Soldier addresses Alpha and Sniper. "Hey, what happened in there, Mona?"
Melancholy weighs down my eyes. "Dell..." I sigh and rest my forehead on his chest. He pats my back. "This story will not end very well."