As Christmas approached and the year was about to end, the residents of Bayside were eager to leave the year's drama behind and immerse themselves in the heartwarming joy of Christmas. Snowflakes gently descended from the heavens, draping rooftops and streets in a pristine white. Strings of twinkling lights adorned the storefronts, their colors dancing on frosted windowpanes. Carolers gathered, their harmonies reaching all the stores and homes, inviting families to join the festive spirit. Children, bundled up in woolen hats and mittens, played among the market stalls, their laughter ringing in the air and blending with the cheerful bell of a Salvation Army volunteer. The irresistible aroma of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread wafted into the street from the corner bakery, mingling with the crisp scent of pine from the towering Christmas tree in the town square. Tango, grumbling as he brushed snow off his leather jacket, weaved his way through the bustling marketplace, a paper shopping bag tucked under one arm. "You're going with that?" Danni's playful voice, a familiar sound to Tango, came from just over his shoulder. The detective, her translucent form shimmering in the holiday lights, appeared alongside him. Her wry smile and arched eyebrow made Tango feel like a schoolboy caught sneaking candy, a feeling he had grown accustomed to with Danni. "What's wrong with it?" Tango snapped, holding a garishly patterned tie with candy canes and snowmen. "It's festive," he snapped. "And you need to announce yourself instead of just popping in on someone." "Why? Are you shopping for my Christmas present?" Danni laughed. "A Christmas present for you, are you kidding? I haven't even bought my mother a present." "Nice one, buddy. You'll burn for that one. I know your mother has passed. And I'm told she is doing wonderful." "You — talked to my mother?" Tango stammered. "Why are you worried? Afraid she might tell me a few secrets about you?" "No, of course not." Tango looked away, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "I just —" "It's okay to miss her. She misses you too and sends her Little Poo Poo all her love." A long, agonizing groan escaped Tango's lips. "Please tell me you're joking. I buried that name when I was six years old." "Not deep enough, apparently," Danny smirked. "Keep it up, and you'll think it's Fourth of July with all the fireworks." "Touchy, are we? I didn't mean to upset you. I was just messing around." Danni rolled her eyes. "I've got to go, but please remember, festive doesn't mean tasteless, so ditch the tie." She winked, disappearing through a passing cart loaded with holiday wreaths, calling to him, "Buy me something nice." Tango sighed, shoving the tie back into the bag. He paused to warm his hands near a street vendor's fire pit, his thoughts drifting to better days when Christmas meant dinners at Mama's house and family was a special time. He remembered the fire's warmth, his siblings' laughter, and the comforting smell of Mama's cooking, all of which seemed so distant now. ***** Outside of town, Miriam tended to Willow in the dimly lit stable. Her hands worked deftly, brushing the animal's coat while her lips murmured softly. "It's Christmas Eve, Willow, when all should be right with the world, but something's stirring." She dug into her pocket, found a carrot, and let the mule munch on it. Her voice was barely audible over the wind that crept through the cracks in the wooden walls. "We've got visitors, Willow, and they aren't friendly." The mule nickered in response, nuzzling her shoulder to reassure her. Suddenly, Milo flapped his wings and ruffled his feathers, crowing as loud as he could. "Milo, what's all the fuss? Did you forget roosters crow at the crack of dawn, or do you sense something, too?" Taking Milo's cackle as a warning, Miriam paused, her hand resting on Willow's neck as she gazed toward the mansion. Shadows danced in the windows — shapes she couldn't quite place but felt she should know. Her fingers tightened on the brush, and the stable seemed to hold its breath for a moment. "Troubles coming. I can feel it in my bones." Far across the Atlantic, the snow fell heavily over the sprawling English countryside. The estate stood like a sentinel amid the vast white fields, its stone walls cloaked in frost. Inside Charles's home, the great hall glowed in the warmth of the crackling fire in the hearth and the soft golden light of chandeliers. A small gathering of friends and colleagues mingled in the room, their laughter and conversation filling the space with Christmas merriment. Much of their talk centered on the new art gallery opening soon and the possibility of CJ Gray's paintings being displayed. The upstairs studio's air was quieter, though no less vibrant. Eleanor stood by the window, her gaze drifting over the snow-covered gardens below. She was a ghost, and this was her home — actually, the world had become her universe, with her heart settling in Bayside with Maggie, her new baby granddaughter. "Do you remember the first time I painted you?" Charles's voice broke the silence. He stood behind her, his form just as spectral, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored waistcoat. His gaze was fixed on a painting on the far wall — a portrait of Eleanor, her younger self, staring out a window much like the one she stood before now. "As if it were yesterday," Eleanor replied, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "You captured my loneliness so perfectly it frightened me." Charles stepped closer, his voice gentle. "I captured your strength. Even then, I knew you'd wait for me." Eleanor turned to face him, her expression softening. "And we found our way back. Not many are so lucky." Her gaze shifted to the painting, lingering on the young woman's eyes. "Dylan has your gift, you know. His work is extraordinary." "It is," Charles agreed. "And he has your courage — hosting that party downstairs. You know he doesn't do that lightly. Especially with Sandra here." Eleanor's brow lifted. "Sandra? The art historian from London?" Charles nodded, a knowing smile on his lips. "There's something between them, though Charlie might have something to say about it." "The Inspector? I thought I recognized her car in the drive." "Hmmm — it's doubtful she's working a case here at the estate." "Two strong women vying for his attention — this should be fun." "Eleanor, I've seen that look in your eyes before," Charles said as he waved a finger in her direction. Eleanor chuckled softly, turning back to the window. "Perhaps we should give them a nudge." "Perhaps we should let them find their way," Charles countered. He stepped closer, slipping his arm around her waist. "Much like we did." For a moment, the two stood in silence, their forms shimmering faintly in the golden light of the studio. Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the estate in a peaceful hush. Downstairs, the faint strains of a piano drifted through the halls as if the house were alive with Christmas spirit. Satisfied his guests were comfortable, Dylan carried two glasses of champagne across the room to Sandra. Her smile was warm and inviting as she watched him approach. The twinkle in his eyes was mesmerizing as he handed her a glass. "Merry Christmas, Sandra." "Merry Christmas, Dylan." "Yes, Merry Christmas, Dylan." The Inspector clinked her champagne glass against Dylan's. Though her eyes remained on the host, she added, "And to you as well, Sandra." A bit overwhelmed by the two powerhouses, Dylan's eyes wandered over Charlie's form-fitting dress and felt the heat on the back of his neck. "Nice to see you out of uniform." Clearing his throat, he smiled. "Red is definitely your color." Sandra smiled while thinking, "Like your temper, Inspector. But you haven't seen mine yet." ***** Eleanor and Charles stood near the doorway, smiling as they watched Dylan and his friends. Eleanor glanced at Charles — her heart filled with love for all of them. "We should check on the others," she said softly. Charles smiled. "Lead the way, my love." They dissolved into shimmering light, their destination unknown. Author Notes Stay tuned for more Christmas Eve adventures with Eleanor, Charles, and the gang.

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