Before I begin my little tale, it is with utmost respect that I borrow the ideas for this story from the master wordsmith, Charles Dickens. May his masterpiece illuminate our hearts for many Christmases to come.

“I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.

Their faithful Friend and Servant,
C.D.
December, 1843”

Stave I: Christmas Visitors

Randy Pitts was dead. Okay, maybe he wasn’t dead. But his spirit teetered on the abyss of the black hole of spiritual darkness. He could have easily fell into that hole, becoming a more irritating man than he already was had it not been for that one special Christmas season not so long ago. It was during this season that he learned an important lesson that he will carry in his heart for the rest of his days. You ask me how I know? It’s quiet simple. I was there. Not in any physical form, but in the breath of Christmas cheer that spread from the team members that not only shared a bullpen, but a friendship…a connection that went beyond the doors of the Hoover Building. But, I get ahead of myself. Come with me to December 23rd…

“Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner.” Myles’ baritone voice and precise diction held the listeners in wrapted attention. The children at his feet stared transfixed at the storyteller. The older children, the ones who were normally bored with adult companionship as they entered their teen years, stood mesmerized by the voice. The adults listened with the ears of children; excitement building with each passing phrase. It was a familiar story, but the storyteller was a master at his craft. Even the four week old infant cuddled against her father’s chest seemed to be enthralled by the magic of the voice.

It was a magical moment until Randy Pitts entered the bullpen, breaking the magic. Randy was a short, balding little man who only left his office to bring misery into the usually cheery world of the bullpen. He was a tightfisted bureaucrat who was much more interested in counting paperclips than showing any interest in mankind.

Many changes had occurred in the bullpen over the last year. Sue Thomas and Jack Hudson had married last Christmas and had welcomed their first child this Thanksgiving. That’s right. The four week old infant cuddled against her daddy’s chest is little Sarah Grace Hudson. She was four weeks old on the day my story began. She has her daddy’s brown eyes and her mother’s sweet face and kind spirit. She is the apple of her parent’s eye and is adored by her godparents.

In addition to the Thomas-Hudson union, Bobby Manning and Tara Williams had finally given into the feelings they shared. They were married last April. It was a glorious spring day with the fragrance of spring flowers drifting on the spring breeze as they stood in the entryway of the chapel at Quantico after being joined as husband and wife.

Although it took a little longer and lots of forgiveness on the bride’s part, Myles Leland, III and Lucy Dotson joined the ranks of the blissfully married last September. The leaves were changing color as if to herald the change in the lives of the teammates and friends as the last two single people joined their lives together, completing the circle that Jack and Sue had begun.

Despite the weddings and birth, Randy had barely acknowledged the changes. Although he had been invited to the weddings, much to the displeasure of Myles, and knew of the Sarah Grace’s birth, he had sent neither gift nor card. He was as tightfisted in his personal life as he was with the office supplies he issued.

“Who are these children and what are they doing in here?” Randy squeaked. If there was one thing Randy hated more the Christmas, it was children.

“And a Merry Christmas to you, Mate.” Bobby replied.

“Christmas,” Randy spat. “Bah, humbug.”

“Surely even you have some Christmas spirit, Randy,” Sue smiled. Sue was everything that Randy was not. She was kind, caring and compassionate. She looked for the good in people, even someone as seemingly unlovable as Randy Pitts. It’s no wonder Jack had fallen head over heels in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her, even though it took him almost four years and countless times of almost losing her to admit it.

“Christmas has nothing to do with the reason for my visit. But I will deliver my good news in a moment.” Randy quipped. The sarcasm oozed from every pore. “First, I want to know who these children are and what they are doing outside of the day care center.”

“We are having a little Christmas party for our children,” D replied. “If you would venture outside your office a little more often, then you would know this is a yearly tradition.”

“Well you have answered the why, but not the who, Agent Gans. As far as I know, you and Hudson and Hudson are the only team members with children. I recognize your two over there.” Randy glowered at the pre-teen and barely a teen Davey and Tanya Gans. He despised those two. Somehow, whenever he was around them, something horrible went wrong. It usually involved his best dress shirt and a spilled, colored liquid of some description.

“You are correct, Randy,” Myles responded. He was using his most polished language. “The other children are here as our guests. These two are the children of my sister’s fiancée. They are staying with Lucy and I while Anne and Charles are on a last minute business trip. The young man is Jacob and the pretty little girl is Maddie.”

“Well, I guess they count as relatives,” Randy sniffed. “But what about that young lad over there?”

“That’s Timmy,” Tara responded. Her voice was warm as she spoke his name. He held a special place in everyone’s heart. “He is our neighbors’ little boy. He was feeling well enough to venture our today, so Bobby and I brought him with us to enjoy the party.”

“What do you mean will enough to venture out? What is wrong with him?” Randy retorted. He had noticed the gray pallor of the boy’s skin. It was not out of compassion that Randy had asked. It was out of fear for his own health.

“Timmy has a heart condition. He is awaiting surgery that will allow him to lead a normal life well into adulthood.” Myles answered.

“His parents are having a hard time coming up with the money for the operation, however.” Lucy replied. There was a sadness in her voice that gave weight to the gravity of the matter. Timmy needed the operation to not only lead a full life, but to have a life at all.

“That must be quite some neighborhood you live in Agent Manning,” Randy sneered. “If your neighbors can’t afford health insurance then you must live on the wrong side of town.”

“Actually,” Jack started. His voice was calm, but his eyes had darkened with unspoken fury. “It happens to be a very good neighborhood. As a matter of fact, Bobby, Myles and I all have houses in that neighborhood. Timmy’s father is an airline pilot whose airline is having to restructure due to the effects of the economy. One of the cost cutting measures was to reduce insurance benefits. His mom is a school teacher who just changed jobs last year. Timmy’s condition was diagnosed several years ago, so it is considered pre-existing. Bob’s insurance will pay half of the cost, but only half. The other half will have to come out of his pocket.”

“I didn’t come in here to hear some sob story,” Randy quipped. “I came to deliver some good news.”

“Your resigning?” Myles asked. The barely contained joy in his voice was quickly replaced by a groan as his wife elbowed him in the side. He rubbed the offended spot and turned to gaze into the irritated eyes of his wife. “What?”

“Behave, Myles. It’s almost Christmas,’ Lucy hissed.

Randy ignored the remarks as a icy grin crossed his face. “Maybe I should rephrase that. The news is good for me, not for you. I need the year ending expense reports from each one of you on my desk by December 26th.” The groans were deafening as the smile on Randy’s face spread.

“But that will take us days to complete,” Lucy moaned.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Most of us were planning on leaving at lunch,” Bobby frowned.

“I wasn’t planning on coming in at all,” Jack sighed. “Since Sue is on maternity leave and we didn’t have to try to juggle two work schedules, we were planning on driving to Sue’s grandparents’ in Pennsylvania tomorrow morning. They haven’t met their great-granddaughter yet. We thought we would spend Christmas Eve and part of Christmas Day with them before meeting my parents at my sister’s home in upstate New York.”

“I guess that won’t be happening now, will it Agent Hudson?” Randy laughed. “Now if you will excuse me, I will let you return to your little party.”

“Wait Mr. Pitts,” Tanya called. She ran across the bullpen to him with a cup of red punch in her hand. “Wouldn’t you at least like a cup of Christmas punch.”

Randy’s eyes widened as he watched Tanya trip over the corner of Tara’s desk, effectively drowning his new, white dress shirt in red liquid. Rolling his eyes and emitting a low growl, he stormed out of the bullpen. If you ask me, it couldn’t have happened to a better man.

More later
Kim

a wonderful start, so happy to read they're married and jack and sue have a baby, wish i had been tanya throwing the drink over randy

cath

Nice job so far! I'll come back for more! There is one thing on my mind though.....Who is telling the story?? ( I have an idea but I'm not sure)...

Very interesting take on the tale - I'm hooked!!!

oh i love that story...i love that book. it keeps on getting better and better everytime you read it.

Oh my...what a start!

Can't wait to see where you take this..I'm hooked.

BLT

Fantastic start, woven so beautiful -- down to the red liquid on Randy's shirt! Can't wait for more.

kav

what a fantastic start! can't wait to read more!

loved the scene with tanya and randy...

Wonderful start!
Do you know that the presence of Randy Pitts doesn't exactly foster Christmas thoughts, don't you?

Post more soon.
Ornella

P.S.: Is "foster" the right word to use in this context?

I have no idea why - but I always laugh when I think of Randy

Great story... I'm waiting for more!

Em

This makes me want to get my copy of A Christmas Carol from my bookshelf and read it. I can just hear Ted (Myles) reading this. He does have a wonderful voice.

Randy as the scrooge ... very interesting and appropriate

so glad to hear that everyone is married and happy and sue and jack had a 'little sue'! as for randy i should feel sorry for him but i don't and am glad that tanya spilled punch all over him.
UPDATE SOON.

Fantastic start well done

It looks like we are all enjoying ourselves on this story...I love all the pairings and I dont think there would be a better Scrooge than Randall Pitts.

like marlo said randy as Ebenezer scrooge...its gonna be interesting!!

i read the book by charles dickens - the christmas carol the book title!! it was wonderful!!

can't wait for more!!

Wow...that is some start of the story! You're really talented, weaving words together the way you did...and will continue to do on this story, I hope! I know it's only been one installment, but I can't wait for more!!

I can tell already, Kim, this is going to be amazing!!!

I love that Jack and Sue are married and parents, and that the rest of the team has paired off!!!

I think I would ignore the little creep, which I know doesn't show a whole lot of Christmas spirit, but I think throwing red punch on him was too good for him!!!

Joy

Hooked on this one. I love A Christmas Carol. I love the idea of using Randy as Scrooge.
thanks,
Terie

this is terrific the couples are paired just right
randy as scrooge couldnt be more perfect and I think dickens
christmas carol is really A great choice cant wait for more really hooked
Lin

Stave I cont.

As Randy left his office at the end of the workday, he noticed plastic containers placed strategically throughout the building. He groaned as he realized it was that giving time of year again. Each year the Bureau would place collection containers throughout the building to encourage donations to a local charity. This year, it was for Habitat for Humanity. As he eyed the nearest container with contempt, he noticed a second, smaller container with a picture of the little boy he had seen earlier in the Bullpen with that blasted team of Jack Hudson’s. It was more than he could stand. He jerked the containers from their position and marched to the nearest Resource officer.

“What are these?” he demanded in a nagging voice.

“Why Mr. Pitts, those are the yearly collection containers for the Director’s chosen charities,” the young woman replied sweetly. Obviously the woman had not worked for the Bureau for very long as she smiled at Randy. Not even the saintly Sue Hudson would venture a smile at Randy Pitts.

“I know what they are, but why two? Usually there is only one charity,” Randy sneered.

“Well, sir. The second one was a last minute decision. It seems little Timmy touches the hearts of everyone he meets, including the Director.” Her smile took on a melancholy glow as she thought of the sweet little freckled face child whose eyes smiled even when he didn’t have the energy to bring a smile to his lips.

“Humbug!” Randy shouted. “Having one charity for everyone to waste money on is one thing. Having two is absolutely ridiculous.”

“I think it’s very sweet of people to want to give back to the community. Habitat for Humanity builds houses for people who can’t afford a house of their own. The mortgage payments are low and they have to invest sweat equity as well. And every child deserves a chance at life. Would you like to make a donation?” the young woman asked. The voice was still sweet, but the smile was beginning to fade some. Randy Pitts was in the midst of working his charm on yet another co-worker.

“I most absolutely will not!” Randy Pitts bellowed. “Do we not have homeless shelters? Do we not have Medicaid?”

“Well, yes sir.” Randy interrupted the poor creature before she could continue.

“There you have it. With homeless shelters, there is no need for someone who can’t afford a house to have one. With Medicaid, there is no reason someone should have to solicit money from complete strangers for medical care.” He dropped the containers at the feet young woman. Turning on his heels, he left yet another helpless victim in his wake to stare blankly at the back of the balding head while contemplating why on earth she had ever tried to speak kindly to a man like him.

Quick note: Medicaid is a government subsidized medical coverage plan here in the States. It is for peopled of a certain income level that can't afford private insurance.

More Later
Kim

I can't stand Randy being so harsh...actually I tolerate it but he is being a pain in the butt...I am gonna get all on him!

randy is such a pain in the butt

cath

I agree Lin

Can I join!!

randy is rude as ever!?!?

ugh randy .... i really don't like that man.

I think Randy is making a wonderful Ebenezer!! I question whether or not he can actually be changed though!!!

Joy

Randy

Em

randy is just a pain in the butt. i don't think sue even dares smiles at him and sue always tries to find the good in everyone.
UPDATE SOON

randy: wow...
and this time its not a good wow....

Em said it right...

Stave I cont.

The weather had taken a gloomy turn as Randy exited the Hoover Building. The clouds were settling in and the brisk wind drove the cold to the very core. Undeterred, Randy pulled his overcoat closer around him, bowed his head and headed into the wind. Now Randy lived in a townhouse several blocks from his office. Most normal people, especially on a snowy winter’s day, would have driven to work each day. Randy had a perfectly good Bureau issued car. He, however, felt that driving it was wasteful. If there was anything the tightfisted, penny-pinching Randy hated, it was wastefulness.

Randy walked determinedly towards home, a permanent scowl etching his face. For some melancholy reason, his thoughts turned to Rochester Claridge. Claridge had held Randy’s position at the Bureau until he died ten years ago. If you thought Randy was a stuffed shirt, Claridge was a whole stuffed wardrobe. He was awful. However, he was Randy’s idol. Randy had spent every day of the last ten years trying to live up to Claridge’s example.

Despite being chilled to the bone, Randy finally made it home. Home was a tidy townhouse in an almost run-down neighborhood. Even though it had none of the ugliness and illegal activities of other areas of D.C., it had definitely seen it’s better days. Still, Randy called it home.

Like most of the townhouses on that street, Randy’s door held a nondescript brass doorknocker. It was nothing special, or so one would think. As Randy slipped his key into the lock, the knocker started to glow. A gasp came from almost frozen lips as the face of Rochester Claridge appeared in the knocker.

Randy quickly withdrew his hand from the key in the lock. Pulling his glasses off he wiped them with his handkerchief before replacing them. Staring closely at the doorknocker, he found only brass shining back at him. “It must be the stress of the day and the memories of my old supervisor that has me in such a mindset tonight,” he said aloud to the night wind.

He replaced his hand on the key, turning it in the lock. He swung the door open and reached for the light switch. Flipping it, the room was illuminated in the soft yellow glow of the chandelier. Randy quickly shut the door and turned the lock. Before leaving the door, he checked the area of the door housing the knocker. He found only the screws that held it in place. Shaking the image from his mind, he moved away from the door and headed to the kitchen to fix his evening meal.

As Randy made his way into the darkened kitchen, he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. This is preposterous, he mused. Randy Pitts, scared? You better believe it! If someone had popped his head out of the pantry door, Randy Pitts would have had a massive coronary then and there. Reaching for the light switch, he scanned the room as it was illuminated.

After he finished preparing his evening meal of tuna salad and soda crackers, he placed it on a tray and made his way to his bedroom. He placed the tray on the bed before turning on the lights and closing the door. He scanned the room three times before he was satisfied that nothing was lurking in the closet or under the bed. Closing the door, he locked it, which he never did. He went to the fireplace and hit the switch to ignite the gas logs. Turning the logs down to their lowest setting, Randy pulled his favorite chair close to the fire, retrieved the tray from the bed and began to eat his meal in silence.

Now if Randy had been a more sensible man, the nagging fear in the back of his mind would have served as a warning of impending doom. However, Randy found being sensible a waste of precious time. To him, time was as valued a commodity as money or paper clips. He pinched every minute that he had.

He was just finishing his last soda cracker when he heard it. Every bell in the house began to sound from the doorbell to the alarm clock. His eyes widened and his heart raced, but he remained steadfastly attached to the seat of his favorite chair. The ringing bells subsided as quickly as they began, bringing an eerie silence.

The silence was broken by the sounds of heavy footsteps and clanking metal in the hallway. Randy closed his eyes and wished the sound away. It was of no use. The sound became louder and louder as the footsteps drew nearer to the door. Suddenly, a heavy knocking came to the door. It was as if someone or something was trying to take the door from it’s hinges. Slowly Randy opened his eyes. He was just in time to see the door swing wide and the ghost of Rochester Claridge and guests step into his bedchamber.

I'm glad you are enjoying this retelling of the Dicken's Christmas classic!
More later
Kim

This was actually quite amusing to see Randy freaking out

Ornella

DITTO to that!! randy scared !!

Randy fits the character so perfectly ... it's scary !!!

Brilliant Randy makes the perfect ebenezer

Took the words right out of my mouth...

like.....LIKE......I LOVE IT...

Randy is so scrooge!!!

Joy

me too he really does dosnt he Lin

to all your dittos!

Fantastic story, you weave the tale so well.

Randy is the perfect Scrooge and I love the way the team are all paired up and so happy.

Soph

Stave I cont.

“Who are you?” Randy questioned. His voice was solid and strong while his hands were twisting with fright.

“Who do I look like, Mr. Pitts? Surely it has not been that many years to have pushed me to the realms of forgetfulness. Look closely Mr. Pitts. Whose face do I bear?”

“You resemble Rochester Claridge, my old supervisor and idol. But that can’t be, you have been dead for ten years.” He must push this specter from his mind. He didn’t not believe in ghosts. Belief in things not seen was a humbug. He only believed in things he could touch, name and count.

“That has always been your problem, Mr. Pitts. You refuse to believe that things unseen do not exist. Yet here I stand in your bedroom. You cannot explain this away Mr. Pitts.” Claridge smiled an icy smile.

“Why are you here and why are you wrapped in that chain of paper clips and post-it notes?” Randy demanded.

“Perhaps I can answer that for you, Randy.” The voice belonged to that of one who had accompanied Claridge into the bedroom. The voice was familiar.

Turning to the spirit, Randy gasped. “But you are not dead. I saw you earlier today and you were very much alive.” Randy quickly looked at the three spirits that stood around the one that had spoken. “In face I saw you all and you were all very much alive.”

“That is true, Randy. It is also true that all is not as it appears. Spirits come in all forms, usually from the mind of the person seeing them. That is why we appear before you looking like Dimetrius Gans and his family. But trust me, the Gans are very much alive and thriving,” D said.

“Why are you here?” Randy demanded. These, these, these whatever-they-were were wasting his time.

“We are here to act as observers…surveillance so to speak. We will provide back-up and information when we need to.” Donna said mildly.

Randy turned his attention back to Claridge. “But why are you here?”

“I’m here to save you from a fate like mine, Mr. Pitts.” If I didn’t know that ghosts can’t cry, I would have sworn that a tear trickled down Claridge’s face.”

“You see, Randy,” D interjected. “If you do not become a member of the human race while here on earth, you will be destined to walk among them, unseen, in the life that is to come.”

“And the chain of paper clips and post-it notes were forged by Mr. Claridge in his lifetime. Because he did not share these items with those who needed them, he is destined to carry the ones he horded through eternity.” Donna replied.

“Man, you should see yours if you think Mr. Claridge’s is something,” Davey whistled.

“Here let me show you,” Tanya offered. She stepped towards Randy with a length of chain consisting of enough paper clips and post-it notes to have circumvented the earth three times with some left over.

Randy took a step backwards. With Tanya’s track record, Rand felt sure he would be wearing that chain if she came any closer. “No, thank you. I can see it fine from where I am.”

Tanya shrugged and returned to her place beside Davey. Randy saw her dragging the chain behind her. Surprisingly, it didn’t make a sound as it snaked it’s way across the floor.

“What can I do to escape this fate?” Randy asked. Although he still didn’t believe in the unseen, he had to admit his interest was piqued.

“You will be visited by three spirits tonight. The first at one, the second at two and the third at three. Heed their warnings and take their advice and you will have a slim chance to avoid my fate. This is your last chance, Mr. Pitts. If you ignore them, then you will be doomed to walk the earth dragging your chain for eternity.”

“Couldn’t they all come and once. It would save time and travel I am sure. It seems so wasteful to come one by one when a group intervention might work just as well.” Randy hated to be wasteful.

“No, Randy,” D replied. He pulled a book from his pocket and opened it. “It says right here in paragraph three, subheading twelve, that the spirits must come separately accompanied by a surveillance team. And we all know what a stickler for rules you are.”

The room resonated with laughter. Slowly the figures standing in front of him slowly faded to reveal his empty bedroom. Randy awoke with a start and glanced at the clock. He must have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he rose to ready himself for bed, D’s laughter still echoing in his head.

More later
Kim

This is getting interesting...who are the spirits going to be

wonderful picture of randy covered in stickies and dragging chain of paperclips around

cath

are the spirts going to be jack,bobby and myles!! or it could be sue,lucy and tara!!

can't wait for more!!

haha the last post was cute.... i look forward to see who the ghost are.... this should be very interesting. I just can't wait and D's family was funny....
UPDATE SOON.

What a perfect punishment! Paperclips and Post-It notes!

randy is such a miser where stickys or paper clips
are involved that hes just like scoorge now randy get a life
and think your just a name or number in your job so live
a little listern and learn from the ghosts of christmases of past
present and future and learn, loving it kim more soon please
Lin