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Charles plopped down on the couch and groaned as he stared at the ceiling. The lights from the Christmas tree he and Edwin had set up were twinkling, and the way that their colours bounced off the walls in the darkness was brills. But Charles couldn’t marvel at how nice it looked, could he? Not when he didn’t have a gift for Edwin yet.
It was a week before Christmas, and the little gift his best mate had plopped under the tree sat alone and impeccably wrapped. Charles threw a hand over his eyes to drown out the mocking colours and sighed again as he turned Edwin’s face round and round in his mind. He deserved the best and no less than that, which meant Charles would have to step up and find it for him.
He lay like that for a while, wondering whether a cool button or rock would be a good enough gift or if he’d have to go all-out. Edwin’s collection of buttons was aces, but it didn’t feel special enough to hand off something so much like what he’d been giving Edwin all year.
After all, it was their first Christmas as boyfriends or whatever. Not much had changed, but they snogged sometimes, so -
The door creaked open, and Charles’s eyes snapped open. “Oi, Edwin-”
He cut himself off. He’d know Edwin’s footsteps anywhere, and these ones weren’t them. Besides, why would Edwin use the door? He’d never opened it before, just gone through its plexiglass with his hands steepled together in that way Charles loved.
“It’s not Edwin,” said a light voice. “It’s Niko.”
Charles sat up. Only Edwin was allowed to see him casual enough to stare at the sky and mope. “Niko. How’re you doing, mate? Haven’t seen you all day.”
“I’m good!” Niko smiled, and Charles couldn’t help it – he grinned back. “I just got back from the library. I’ve been reading Christmas romances like The Nightmare Before Kissmas and A Mistletoe Match for the Earl. Edwin loved Kissmas, by the way! You might like it, too. It’s-”
“What did you get Edwin for Christmas?” The words were out of Charles’s mouth before he completely considered them. He blinked, wishing he’d not said anything. “Just… like, I was wondering what you got him. So I don’t accidentally get him the same thing.”
Niko blinked. “You still haven’t gotten him anything! Oh. He’ll be so sad if you don’t find anything.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Sorry. I’m working on that.” Awkwardly, she chuckled.
“No, don’t bother with the sorries. It’s true, isn’t it? I have to find him something. Like, a must. But what do I get him?”
“What do you usually get him?”
“I don’t know,” Charles said. “I just wander round London until I see something he’d like, usually. Then I get that. Last year I got him some of that putty stuff from the store so he could play with it while he thought about… all the things Edwin thinks about. The year before that, I think I got him some book?”
Niko smiled. “Then why don’t you get him something like that this year? Assuming he liked it, obviously.”
“He did,” Charles confirmed. “But the situation’s changed, hasn’t it?”
“What, because you’re in love now?”
Charles, who had no other way to put it, nodded grimly. “Yeah. Oh, shit. Niko. I’ve got to get this right-”
“Edwin’s dating you because he loves you. And while being in love changes a lot of things-” Niko put a finger up in the air, like she was trying to seem authoritative – “It doesn’t have to change everything. You’re still Charles, and Edwin’s still Edwin. Which is honestly kind of the beauty of you guys, you know? You’re, like, a set.” She shrugged, her white hair moving in waves over her shoulders.
“I guess,” Charles conceded. “So I should get him a book, then? Did you?”
“I got him some manga,” Niko said. “But it’s gonna be completely different than what you picked out, I promise.” She blushed.
Charles chuckled. “Well, sounds like you’ve got a bang-on good gift. So I should get him a totally different kind of book, then, yeah? Maybe, like…”
He grabbed at the basketball next to the couch with a quick hand. Niko sat down on the table as Charles started to throw it in the air and catch it, over and over again. It helped him think, and God, he needed to think.
What kind of book would Edwin want for their first Christmas as a couple? He liked detective stories, obviously. He’d been getting into those modern thriller-type detective stories, that Frieda author or whatever. But those didn’t feel like Edwin-specific things, did they, just random books Edwin’d like and then put on his shelf forever. Maybe he could get Edwin a special book, like something from his time period or something about a couple like him and Charles. Or maybe…
“Niko, that’s brills,” Charles said, sitting bolt upright. “I’ve got it. I know what I’m getting Edwin.”
-
Edwin stood at the edge of the Agency's rooftop, looking out over the London fog. It was nowhere near as thick as it had once been when he was a boy, and yet it provided him with some solace in nostalgia regardless. Christmas was coming shortly; Edwin had to admit to himself that he was rather excited. He did not remember a great deal about his time among the living, and most of his recollections were negative. Christmas was distinct in its joy. The flash of his mother's smile underneath glowing Christmas lights, his sister's joyful squealing at the presents as she ripped them apart - such memories were vague, and yet they were undeniable.
Not that they compared in any way to the Christmases he shared with Charles. Edwin had shown his best friend how to string popcorn and cranberries onto a traditional Edwardian garland quite early in their acquaintance, and now they did so every year whilst listening to the pan flute music Edwin had grown up with. They would spend their nights warm on that ratty chesterfield they both so loved, watching films like Die Hard and Home Alone (which Edwin would maintain were not Christmas movies, but it was of no import.)
This year, they would be watching those films with their arms about one another; they would be enjoying the holidays as a couple. It was a yearning that Edwin had not known to dream of, and yet it made the magic of the season feel altogether brighter.
He was torn from his musings by footsteps in the snow behind him. "What the Hell are you doing up here?" Crystal's voice was surprised.
Edwin pivoted and spun gracefully to look at her, purposefully maintaining a blank expression as he brushed his own fingers against one another. "Lovely seeing you as well, Crystal."
Crystal rolled her eyes. "You come up here a lot. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"If you are aware of my affinity for this rooftop, surely you might think to leave me to my thoughts."
"You can't be a loner forever, Edwin. It's time to get out of your emo phase."
Edwin, who had no idea what that meant, huffed. "Very well. State your business, then."
"I don't have any business. I didn't even know you'd be... never mind."
Edwin hummed and turned back toward London, rather hoping that Crystal might get the hint and kindly go away.
But she evidently did not. Instead, she sidled up to Edwin and stood beside him, leaning her arms precariously over the railing of the rooftop. "When I was a kid, I always spent Christmas alone," she told him, as though making casual conversation. "I don't really have that many great memories of it. Do you?"
"I do not see how that is your business." Edwin's tone was light.
"Come on, Edwin," Crystal snorted. "Humor me. What's your best Christmas memory?"
Edwin rolled his eyes in a mockery of irritation. Crystal could not see that he was warming up to the idea of her company. "My best holiday memories have found me after I was dead. I remember one particular year in which Charles and I mirror-hopped to the markets in New York City. I very much wished for hot chocolate, but it was unfortunately impossible considering my incorporeal state. And yet we had a lovely time regardless; the wares were bountiful and diverse, and the lights show was incredible. I could not have imagined it."
"Hm. I've never had a New York Christmas. I'd be down to go one year, though." Crystal adjusted the buns in her hair. "What kinds of shit do they sell?"
"All manner of things," Edwin told her. "Books were a particular focus of mine, but Charles greatly enjoyed the postcards of worldwide landmarks. There was a great deal of jewelry that I am certain could improve several of your outfits-"
Crystal flipped him off.
"-And small figurines that Charles was overwhelmingly attached to."
"What kinds of figurines?"
Edwin felt a corner of his mouth pull upward. "There was a small golden retriever made from tiger's eye stone that he was inordinately fond of. In his defense, it was quite a lovely hand-carved piece."
"Did you get it for him?"
"We made an effort to nick it, I suppose. However, one of the living managed to purchase it before we could make it our own. One of the only downsides of being a ghost."
Crystal shot Edwin a surprised look. "What'd you get him this year?"
Edwin sighed. He did not wish to think of it. "A game," he said. "And not a particularly good one. It is simply a pre-designed, pre-programmed so-called 'console' with fifty games from the 1980s. installed within its..." Edwin's brows drew together. "Internet?"
"I don't think it connects to the internet. if it's what I'm thinking of. And, no offense, but that's a shitty gift. Not because of the idea or anything, but because those games are literally always knockoffs. Guarantee you'll find Toader, which is a ripoff of Frogger."
"Oh." Edwin very much hoped that he did not look deflated; he was well aware that he likely did. "Well, that shan't do, then. Especially as this is our first Christmas as... ah..."
"A couple?" Crystal's tone was amused.
Edwin adjusted his sleeves, hoping that the sensation of cloth against his fingers might keep his pleased blush at bay. "Yes. Precisely."
Crystal laughed. "Let me guess: you want your much more pop-culture-savvy to help you find the perfect gift for your boyfriend."
"I absolutely do not want that, Crystal-"
"It sounds like a fuckton of work to get you laid, but I accept. I'll help. And I think I know what to start with."
-
“You’re going to track down his old copy of The Mystery of Edwin Drood?” Niko’s hands curled around the teacup in her hands. She might be a ghost, but she could enjoy the feel of a mug that she knew was hot. “That’s a really big order for just one week. But he’d probably be happy with an old copy, like, the edition he would have had back when he was alive? I don’t know.”
Charles shrugged. “I might as well try to go all-out. Why not? Worst comes to worst, I’ll find a different copy. But for now…”
“For now we make some phone calls,” Niko agreed, pulling a pair of glasses from her pocket. She slipped them onto her face, and Charles felt stupidly taken aback when she turned into an older woman with a streak of white in her dark hair. The Principal, she’d called her disguise once. Charles thought it fit brilliantly. Niko grinned and walked over to Edwin’s desk, pulling it open and taking what had once been her phone from the drawer. She pressed a button and looked at the screen intensely, her tongue poking through her teeth as she typed something on the screen.
“Where’d you say his house was as a kid again?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Mayfair,” Charles said, his heart sinking. The most posh part of London, then, full of people and shops. It was going to be hard to track down a single person who would –
“I found Edwin’s great-great-great… wow, there are so many greats! Grand-nephew. Apparently he still lives in Mayfair. Maybe he has the book?” Her glittery fingernails tapped against the screen again. “Yes! FreePeopleSearch had my back, as usual. Okay.” She sighed. “Guess I’ll call this guy, then.”
Alarmed, Charles reached out to take the phone. “Niko-”
“Hello! Is this Mr Kenshaw?” She smiled like he’d be able to see her even though he was at the other end of a phone line. “Yeah! My name’s Niko Sasaki. I’m… I’m a genealogy student at the University of London – yep!” Charles tried to fight the alarm creeping into his chest. It was gnarly. Edwin’s relative? Edwin’s family, alive today? Charles never thought too much about that, had he, and the idea was… well, weird. But Niko seemed unperturbed. “I was wondering about one of your relatives, um, Edwin Payne? Yeah, he died at boarding school – I know. I know! It was really messed up.” Her eyes widened, and Charles closed his eyes to try and drown the discomfort out. “I’m trying to track down something of his, a book. Just to borrow, you know? We’re supposed to find things for class like that. Wait, no! Not something expensive. I’m not trying to take, like, gold. It’s a book, um… I think Dickens.” A pause. “Yep. Yep. Oh, that sucks. Can I have the number?” She scribbled something onto a piece of paper with the hand that wasn’t holding onto the phone. “Thanks!”
She hung up.
“Niko… how’d you find Edwin’s descendant?” Charles’s voice was lower than he’d meant it to be.
“Internet,” Niko said with a smile. “I know all about finding people. It’s easy. When I was twelve, I found Mamoru Miyano’s phone number… well, whatever.” She put the phone down onto the desk with a thud. “But yeah! So, he doesn’t have the book anymore.”
Charles, who could think of nothing else to say, blinked. “Did he… did he sound like my Edwin?”
“What?”
“His voice and shit. Did he sound like Edwin? Have the same inflections, or whatever?”
“Why would he?” Niko raised her arched eyebrows. “They’ve never even met.”
Charles shoved his hands into his pockets. Surely someone who was blood-related to Edwin would have some of his mannerisms, or some of his wit and smarts and kindness. Edwin couldn’t be totally lost to history. It wasn’t right. “I guess,” Charles said, not wanting to argue.
“There’s good news, though,” Niko said. She removed her glasses, shed her disguise, and clapped her hands together gently in the air. “He sold all the old family books to a store down in Kent. Chaucer Books, he said it was called. So they might have it there, if they haven’t sold it off yet…”
-
"We cannot get the dog statuette." Edwin's tone was clipped as he and Crystal descended the stairwell of the Agency in pursuit of a gift. It had been a decent suggestion on Crystal's part. After all, it was as she said. Gifting Charles with something that he had wished for but been unable to obtain would be quite romantic, and it would showcase Edwin's innate ability to recall everything about his beloved. And yet... "It is a logistical impossibility. It is quite foolish to suggest that we return to America to obtain such a trinket, as someone is completely unable to mirror-travel."
"I could get an airport security guy to let us on a plane for free again."
Remembering the way that he had felt while stuffed into such a small seat, Edwin winced. "Absolutely not. We shall simply have to make do with what is available in London, if you are as keen on offering assistance as you seem."
"I am," Crystal confirmed with a cheeky expression. "Friends don't let friends get their boyfriends subpar gifts."
"Well, then," Edwin coughed, "I propose that we attempt to find something similar. As a sort of... what is the word you used on Thursday?"
Crystal snorted. "Throwback?"
"Yes." Edwin snapped his fingers. "That."
"Not a bad idea, Edwin. I'm surprised." Crystal narrowed her eyes. Edwin tilted his head limply at her and gave her a blank look. He hoped it to be devastating. "But," Crystal continued, "the question is where we should start looking. And... you know what? Now that I'm thinking about it, that's a fucking stupid question."
"Many of your inquires are," Edwin deadpanned.
“We could look at Camden Market,” Crystal said.
Edwin raised his eyebrows, but he could not think of anything wrong with the idea. He supposed that such a trinket would be a rather useless gift, but perhaps he could enchant it to keep Charles safe or some other such thing. It could serve as a reinforcement of sorts, if only he were to find it first.
“Alright,” he told Crystal, who gave him a look of surprise that melted into smugness.
-
Mirror travel, Niko mused, was one of the best things about being a ghost. She could be in the office one minute and in Canterbury the next, right outside Chaucer books. “Kind of a weird place for a mirror,” Charles said, waving his hand loosely in the direction of the rubbish bin on the side of the alley. Niko laughed. “Of course it’s totally aces that it’s there, you know. Convenient for us, isn’t it?”
“I think so,” Niko agreed. “Besides, it’s probably good for the ecosystem and stuff. Since it isn’t in a landfill or stuck in the ocean…”
“Well, it is in the bin,” Charles said, scratching his head.
“We can take it back to London with us. You know, for the environment?”
“Aces,” Charles said, snapping his bag of tricks open. Niko watched with amusement as he slid the full-length mirror inside. “Now, time for disguises.” He rummaged around in the backpack while Niko slid her Principal-glasses on. Within seconds, they stood there, two people who to all outside appearances had appeared out of thin air.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if someone saw you put on the disguise? Like, nothing’s there at first. But then bam! Someone is? How would you explain it?”
“No idea,” Charles said. “I’ve never had to, and Edwin would probably be the one to get us out of that hot water. He’s the brains, he’d know what to do.”
Niko hummed. With Charles following closely behind her, she walked across the narrow cobbled pathway and past the Indian buffet that looked like it’d be really good if she could eat it. She pushed through a glass door that read CHAUCER BOOKS and into a shabby-feeling but genuinely welcoming bookshop. “Hi,” she said to the man behind the counter. “We’re looking for a specific book?”
“Hello.” The man’s voice was jovial. “Don’t tell me it’s Canterbury Tales. We don’t carry that many copies of it, and the tourists all want it.”
“Nah,” Charles interjected. “Nothing like that. It’s a specific copy of The Mystery of Edwin Drood. My best mate, his name’s Edwin, and he really likes mysteries and old books. We heard you might’ve been sold one recently by a family in Mayfair?”
The bookshop owner looked perplexed. “Not recently, but we did get a seller a while ago from thereabouts. He sold us a complete set of Dickens works.”
“Was his name Kenshaw?” Niko grinned, her hands splayed open in the air next to her in a gesture of interest.
“That sounds familiar,” he said. “Let me take a peek.” He typed something into the computer, and Niko noticed Charles trying not to smile. The man clapped his hands together. “Yes, Albert Kenshaw from Marylebone. He made the sale a few years back, and we don’t have them in our inventory anymore. Sold them all to a little bookshop in Venice.”
“Wait… Venice? Like, Italy?” Charles sounded horrified. Niko couldn’t blame him, really.
“Yes,” the shop owner confirmed. “I put them in a box and shipped them myself. Got a good price, and you know, this is a family owned operation. It was well worth our while. But… I can tell you the name of the bookshop. If you want to call over and see if it’s still there.”
“Yes, Mr Chaucer books!” Niko grinned. “We’d love to take the number.”
“Ellis,” the man said, the corners of his mouth pulling upward. “I’m Mr Ellis, but you can call me Charlie.” He scrawled the number onto a receipt in front of him, and Niko happily took it in her hand. She folded it up neatly and handed it to Charles, who secured it into the bag of tricks. Then, feeling bad for not supporting the small business that helped her, Niko looked at a shelf off to the side of the counter. Let It Snow, the display said, and dozens of winter-themed books were stuffed at random into the shelf. She pulled one out – You’re a Mean One, Matthew Prince – and held it up. “I’ll take this, too,” she said, humming as she paid for the novel that Edwin would love.
-
“We ought not have come here,” Edwin said in a voice that he hoped did not betray the magnitude of his stress. “It is inordinately crowded. Whyever must so many people come out at once? And right before Christmas, at that. Are the living exceptionally poor planners?”
“This would mean a Hell of a lot more coming from someone who wasn’t also doing very last-minute Christmas shopping,” Crystal said in a deadpan voice. Edwin rolled his eyes as she reached out to grab a peppermint stick from a tree in the corner. She popped it in her mouth, and Edwin briefly wondered whether she was stealing it.
“Chill, dude,” Crystal said, waving her hand at a sign that said TAKE ONE. “Want one?”
“I am a ghost, Crystal,” Edwin reminded her in a saucy tone. “I cannot eat.”
“Oh, good. You want one.” She grabbed another and shoved it in her pocket. “Thanks for giving it to me. Since you can’t eat and all.”
Edwin had to respect her dedication to obtaining candy. He may share it, if he were able to taste, especially as he was struggling to resist nicking a chocolate-coated orange peel despite his inability to consume it.
Edwin may complain and entertain himself with dramatics, but everyone including Crystal was well aware of how much he loved Christmas. The lights strung about Camden Market shimmered, illuminating market stalls and the wares they held for the most inexpensive prices in London. Costume jewelry, both properly advertised and deceptively marketed, lined tables; the chairs behind them were covered with a great many tote bags featuring various patterns. Edwin grabbed one with small cartoon reindeer on it and placed a coin on the table. “For Niko,” he explained to Crystal, who hummed. “In any event, do you know where we might find trinkets such as the one I wish to obtain for my – for Charles?”
Crystal smirked. “My Charles. God, you’re sickening when you’re in love. But don’t stop yourself from calling him yours for me; there’s no reason for that as long as you’re cool with me making fun of you a little bit.” She looked contemplative. “Or a lot.”
“You do that regardless.”
“Part of my charm, I’m told.”
“I find that dubious.”
Crystal nudged him, and he glared. “Do you see that?” Edwin jutted his chin out toward a table covered in various wares. “There appear to be some wooden carvings. Now, if there are stone options available…”
With his hands steepled in front of his torso, Edwin walked through the crowd of people before him. He disliked how loud and claustrophobic the space was, but he was fortunate; being a ghost meant that he had the ability to walk directly through the bodies packed into the market, and all of the living would be none the wiser. If they felt a slight chill as he moved, Edwin knew well that they would attribute it to the winter breeze. He got to the table and pivoted, rubbing his fingers lightly together as he looked about for Crystal. She was still shouldering her way through the crowd, unable to phase through others. Edwin felt himself smile slightly as she walked up to him with a haggard look. “Show-off,” she mumbled, touching one of the buns in her hair.
“Yes,” Edwin agreed. He and Crystal stood together as they surveyed the goods before themselves. There were wood owls and penguins and magpies – a great many birds, Edwin thought. There was even a crow that he forced his eyes to move past, glazing over the table until he reached a small oak-carved clock. “I rather like that,” Edwin said, reaching to brush his fingers against the clock. “Do you think Charles…”
“You know him better than I do, dude,” Crystal said. “But, yeah, I think he’d like it.”
“I shall get it, then. And…”
“There’s a wooden dog, if you’re down for that. I don’t think the wood/stone distinction would mean much to him, to be honest.”
Edwin assessed the grouping of dogs indicated by Crystal. They came in varying hues from oak to mahogany, so he had a great many to select a gift from. Golden retrievers were as bright as their name, so he picked up a statuette that appeared to be carved from birch. “Contrasts nicely with the clock,” he said, handing it off to Crystal to buy.
Sighing, she paid for it and handed it off to him. “You owe me an IOU for paying,” she said.
Confused, Edwin asked, “IOU?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. A favor.”
“I do not, as you look for every opportunity to spend your horrid parents’ money. And also as I am dead and unable to pay. Penalizing me would be in quite poor taste.” His voice turned upward, sarcastic and saucy.
Crystal smirked, and Edwin got rather the feeling that she had simply been testing him. “Fine.”
-
Niko still wanted to hold onto the mirror and recycle it – those YouTube videos she’d seen of the seals choking on plastic still made her sad. But there was luckily a mirror in the bathroom of a nearby library, and she and Charles managed to get through it without any problems. They were, after all, invisible.
She’d thought that the Venice air would be different than London’s somehow. She hadn’t had time to mirror-hop to lots of places as a ghost yet, and she associated the city with gelato she could never taste and romantic gondola rides that she hoped to enjoy with Crystal someday. But now Venice felt a lot like London, with its narrow cobbled streets and quaint stores towering above their heads in centuries-old buildings.
“What do you know?” Charles grinned. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
They were. The Libraria Lombardo stood in front of them, with its small doorframe and large, glass windows. Niko could see the overstuffed books inside, cramped on shelves and cluttered together into groupings and genres. She reached into her pocket and put on her glasses, and Charles followed suit. They pushed through the door and made their way to the counter, Charles sauntering ahead of her with long strides. “Hi,” he said to the man behind the desk. “Um, do you speak English, or…”
“English,” the man said, nodding. “What do you need?”
“We’re looking for a book, right, called The Mystery of Edwin Drood.”
“English?”
“Yeah, mate. In English. Actually, we’re looking for a specific copy. If you’ve got one from Chaucer Books, the store in Canterbury in England-”
“Chaucer Books?”
“Yeah. The bloke there said that you bought loads of books from him, and he shipped them over. If you still have Edwin Drood, that would be brills – or any of the others, actually.” Charles’s eyes widened, and Niko realized that if they had Edwin Drood, they might have other books of Edwin’s, too.
The man’s brow furrowed. “Brills?”
“Yeah, like, aces. Good. Great!” Charles beamed, and Niko couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over her face.
The man behind the counter smiled. He moved away from the desk and the computer and indicated that Charles and Niko should follow him. Quickly, he moved through the maze of books lining the walls until he reached a section labeled VECCHIO E INTERESSANTE. He moved his finger delicately over the spines, a gesture that made Charles’s expression soften, and tapped against one of them. “Pickwick,” he said, nodding to Charles.
Niko watched as Charles reached out and took the book in his hands. He opened it and grinned before passing it off to Niko. Inside, there was a stamped design that read FROM THE LIBRARY OF EDWIN PAYNE. “Oh my Gosh!” She held it up excitedly. “Are there more?”
“Same collection,” the bookshop owner said, and waved a hand.
“D’you think we can buy all of them?” Charles asked Niko. “Like, they’re Edwin’s, right? So we should…”
“It’s not like there’s a complete set or anything,” Niko told him. “I mean, there are lots of Dickens books and everything, but they don’t all match that one. So maybe we should only get the matching ones.” She shrugged and pulled off her glasses. “I think one of us being invisible might be kind of good right now. Just in case.”
“In case…”
“We have to, like, engage in espionage or something.”
Charles laughed. “I don’t think it’s going to be as bleak as all that. We’re not robbing the bookshop, are we, just buying a bunch of shit that has Edwin’s name in it. Oi, Niko! Look!” He pointed to The Mystery of Edwin Drood. “Edwin’s copy, yeah? See?”
Niko smiled. “Perfect,” she said. “And the Oliver Twist matches, too, but that’s it.”
Charles plucked it out and put it on top of Edwin Drood. He assessed the other books, plucking them from the shelf and looking for that telltale stamp in the front of each. “Yeah,” he said glumly. “We’ve only got the three, then.”
“Yeah, but they include the one Edwin specifically wants,” Niko grinned, “so there’s that. And… this process should’ve taken, like, a week! Maybe more. Mirror travel’s really cool!”
“It is,” Charles agreed, walking back to pay for the books.
-
Edwin and Crystal walked back from Camden market together, enjoying the way that the snow swirled in the light wind. Wreaths and holly lined every building and awning, and Edwin felt quite at home in the Christmaslike atmosphere. But none of that compared to his true home at the office, which he and Charles had decorated perfectly. Crystal plopped down on the couch while Edwin moved to his desk and laid out both the dog and the clock.
He grabbed The Supernatural Compendium and began to thumb through it.
Edwin and Charles regularly gifted one another ridiculous things; it had been a core tenant of their decades-long friendship. Charles found a great deal of buttons for Edwin at various shops, and Edwin would periodically bring interesting toys and rocks back to Charles. In one instance, he had even brought him an enchanted baguette that never spoiled simply for the fun of it.
And yet, this was their first Christmas as a romantic couple. Edwin wished to make it special.
So he paged through the tome until he found appropriate spells, and then he began to chant as Crystal looked on with an odd expression.
-
On Christmas Day, after the girls had gone home and the Night Nurse had left to spend time with Kashi, Edwin was left alone in the office with Charles. As much as he enjoyed spending time with those who had become family to him, there was nowhere near so comfortable as here, alone with his best friend and his best love. He and Charles snuggled up beside one another on the couch, the Charlie Brown Christmas special playing on the iBook that Charles kept for unknown and disinteresting reasons. Charles kissed Edwin on the top of his head, and Edwin snuggled more deeply into his side underneath his arm.
“This is nice, isn’t it,” Charles said. “Like, we’ve always done this, but now it feels…”
“Right?” Edwin finished. “I feel as though I have slotted together with you in a way that I ought to have years ago, and nothing has ever felt more correct to me than this.”
Charles blinked. “Yeah, mate,” he said. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. How’d you manage to read my mind like that? Are you some psychic-ghost hybrid I didn’t even know could exist?”
“That would be quite interesting, and I should like to look into the existence of such a being. But… no, Charles, I am not. I am simply someone who loves you.”
“Well, that’s a kind of magic in itself, right? Absolutely aces.”
“Yes,” Edwin agreed simply, and the credits started to roll. “Charles-”
“Edwin-”
They had spoken at the same time. Edwin sighed dramatically and waved his hand in a characteristic affected fashion. “Well, do not let me interrupt you, then.”
Charles laughed and poked at Edwin’s arm. Edwin rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
“Well,” Charles said, “I’ve got you a Christmas gift, and one I think you’ll like. It’s from Italy, but like… well, it’s not actually from Italy.”
“Charles,” Edwin chided kindly, “do speak sense.”
“Well, it’s yours.” Charles reached into his bag of tricks backpack and rifled around, and Edwin watched his muscles work in his shirt as he searched. His face lit up as he pulled a brown paper-bag from the bowels of the rucksack and handed it off to Edwin.
Gingerly, Edwin took the bag and opened it with graceful fingers.
“They’re your books,” Charles said in a quiet voice. Edwin assessed them. He did have to admit that they held a rather familiar quality. So he opened them, and –
FROM THE LIBRARY OF EDWIN PAYNE
“How,” Edwin asked, his voice a mere whisper, “did you find this?”
“Well, Niko helped. We found some descendant of yours-”
“I had no children, obviously.”
“Cousin, whatever.” Charles waved his hand. “Anyway, the cousin bloke told us he’d sold loads of family books to a shop in Kent, so we mirror-traveled there. And he sent us to Venice, so we went to this little bookshop where-”
His chest too full of love and light to resist, Edwin reached out and grasped Charles’s collar. He pulled him in, and their lips slotted together like the final pieces of a puzzle that had made sense even before its completion. “I adore it, my darling,” he whispered as they pulled away. “I cannot believe that you recalled my desire for my old copy of Edwin Drood. Might I read it to you?”
“I’d be really sad if you didn’t.” Charles grinned lopsidedly. Edwin kissed his nose.
“Good. But first… I have something for you as well. It is not nearly as good as your wonderful gift, but I hope you like it anyway.” He pulled out Charles’s gift, neatly wrapped in shimmering green paper and gold ribbons.
Charles reached out and took it. He tore the paper open messily, and Edwin chuckled as it fell to the floor in pieces. When Charles met his gaze, Edwin rolled his eyes. “Messy,” he chided, and Charles huffed.
Charles opened the box, and his eyes lit up. Relief flooded Edwin’s entire being as Charles exclaimed over the dog. “Oi, I love this,” he said. “Hey, mate, remember in New York? When I saw that little retriever and wanted it.”
“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “I did not manage to get to New York, but I found this at Camden Market. I hope that it is aesthetically suitable, especially as I have given it utility in addition to an adorable appearance.”
“Utility?”
“Yes. I enchanted it to protect other enchanted items within your bag of tricks, and those that are tethered to you. So you shan’t need to worry about your cricket bat breaking again, nor will you need to worry about losing your bag of tricks. If you were to dump it off somewhere, it would simply reappear in the location of the dog statuette.” He grinned. “Would you like to see?”
“Yeah, mate. Let’s go.” Charles laughed. Edwin grabbed the bag and walked through the wall with it, and immediately it popped out of Edwin’s hands.
“That’s brills,” Charles called out to him from the other side of the wall, and Edwin knew he had it back. He walked back through the wall and into the room before nodding at Charles, a small smile spread across his closed lips. “There is more,” Edwin said, and Charles pulled out the tissue paper covering the clock.
“It is enchanted to consistently be completely accurate, down to the millisecond,” Edwin explained. He steeled his shoulders and shot Charles a saucy look. “You shall never be late to a date again, Charles Rowland. It is simply no longer possible. Rather, you have no excuse.” He waved a hand loosely in the air, and Charles grabbed it.
“I love it,” he told Edwin, kissing his hand. “Merry Christmas, mate.”
“Merry Christmas to you as well, my Charles,” Edwin breathed, and Charles leaned in to kiss him again.