Christmas, he thought, taking a look around at the decorations going up all over the studio offices.  Bah humbug.  It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like the holiday season, because truly, deep down, he did.  He liked the spirit of love and peace and joy that abounded throughout this holiday season.  He just wasn’t in the mood for it this year.

            There was just something about the holidays that insisted everyone be happy and loving and joyful and kind and … well, on and on, so it seemed.  Strangely enough, this year even the aliens seemed to be catching the spirit of the holiday.  Here it was, the morning of Christmas Eve, and there’d been only one sighting in almost 3 weeks.

            Of course, somehow that one alien ship had managed to elude their most determined efforts to destroy it, and had also adeptly avoided detection since it landed somewhere on Earth.  And that, of course, meant that everyone in SHADO, himself included, was working longer hours in their efforts to find out just where that ship was hiding.  As yet, there’d been no indication – not one “mysterious lights” report, not one “strange noises” report, not one mutilated body, nothing.

            Despite the longer hours and frustrated glowers from the command personnel, though, all of SHADO was in a festive mood as the day dawned bright and clear.  There were rumors of snow later in the day (although just where that snow would be falling was anyone’s guess) but everyone seemed to be enjoying the beautiful, relatively warm, sunshiny day.

            “Good morning, sir,” Miss Ealand chirped cheerfully as he stepped into the outer office.  “Happy holidays to you, sir.”

            “Yeah, right,” he grunted in response.  He simply wasn’t in the mood to be chirped at.  He took a swift glance at her smiling face then hurried straight into the inner office.  A few moments later he’d identified himself to the security system (even it seemed unbearably cheerful this morning!) and was on his way down into the bowels of the earth.

            Now there was a phrase that just matched his mood this morning.  “The bowels of the earth.”  Yes, that was it.  He caught himself softly whistling a bit of one of the holiday carols being played over the intercom system up top and frowned.  He’d just decided what mood he was in and here he was cheering up!

            With a growl he crossed the room to the doors as they opened.  Stepping out into the corridor, he wasn’t really all that surprised to see that the decorations up top had finally spilled over to SHADO HQ.  He muttered “Bah humbug” once, under his breath, then squared his shoulders and started the walk toward Control, determined not to be cheerful, no matter what.

            He stepped into Control and sighed quietly, resolving to spend as much time as possible anywhere but Control.  Every operative in Control was wearing a red Santa cap, the fuzzy white balls at the tips bouncing merrily with every move the operatives made. 

A table covered with a brightly sparkling holiday cloth had been set up in the middle of the room, and contained a rather large punch bowl.  The level of punch in the bowl was severely depleted (Already? he thought.), but he could see plenty of ingredients tucked neatly under the table just waiting their turn to refill the bowl.

            A group of operatives at the computer consoles in one corner were harmonizing on a holiday carol while several others draped decorations about the room.  One of the auxiliary communications officers was regaling the decorators with the SHADO version of “The Night Before Christmas”, and two others (who apparently had nothing better to do) were busy distributing gaily-wrapped packages.

            With a soft growl and a hearty frown, he hurried through the room, followed by a multitude of warm, happy greetings from those who noticed him.  He responded to none of them, wanting only to reach the refuge of the office.  He could close the door behind him and leave all this unbearable cheeriness behind.

            With his eyes closed, uttering a fervent sigh of relief, he stepped into the office and leaned back against the door as it closed behind him.  Some sixth sense told him there was a problem, however.  With a moan of dread, he slowly opened his eyes.

            “Ye gods!” he exclaimed softly.  As his eyes slowly panned the room, he wondered just what exactly he’d done to deserve this.

The decorators had managed to find time to visit the office, too, and had taken their time at it.  Brightly colored tinsel hung in great loops from the ceiling, paper snowflakes dangling precipitously from the bottoms of the loops.  A string of wildly flashing lights chased each other around the room.  A huge red stocking, stuffed with assorted shapes and sizes of packages, had been affixed to the front of his desk.  Two only slightly smaller stockings flanked it, both of them also showing signs of being stuffed with a multitude of mysterious small packages.

Worst of all, on the conference table – dead center on the table – its skirt covering most of the tabletop, sat a huge beautifully decorated Christmas tree.  A dozen or more brightly wrapped packages peeked out from under its branches and the lights wrapped around the tree blinked merrily in time to Christmas music.

Briefly, he considered making a run back through Control, taking the office/lift back up top and spending the day on the studio lot.  With a shake of his head, he decided to “bear with it” down here.  It wouldn’t be any better up top, and besides, he could hear the carolers just outside the door, serenading him with a number of carols.

They weren’t that bad, actually - he just didn’t have the holiday spirit today.  As he listened, he began to distinguish some of the voices, and after a moment realized Paul and Alec had joined the group.  They were singing along heartily.  He could just picture them all standing out there in a semi-circle, facing the door, leaning companionably against each other, smiling, hugging ….

It was too much.  Fighting a rising panic, he glanced at the colorful panel behind his desk that hid the emergency escape lift.  As Foster had once demonstrated, it would take only a moment to smash through the panel and rise up to freedom …

He shuddered, walked quickly over to the desk and hit the control to lock the door.  They might think they had him trapped in here, but they’d forgotten one thing – the back door.   The locked door wouldn’t stop them, he knew – Alec could override the lock – but it would slow them down.

Clutching his briefcase handle tightly, he strode resolutely out the back entrance to the office.  A few moments later, he emerged through the secret SHADO entrance to Mayland Hospital, and slipped out the door practically unnoticed.

His car was still at the studio, and he decided it would stay there until the holiday season was over.  He’d find an alternate way home from here.  A taxi would do nicely, he thought, watching one pull up to the entrance and disgorge its passenger.

An hour and a half later, he let himself into his flat with a loud, distinct sigh of relief.  The taxi ride had been sheer nightmare.  As he’d slid into the recently emptied rear seat, he’d been assaulted by the spicy aroma of Indian take-away.  The swarthy driver, who apparently spoke little English, had had great difficulty in understanding just where his passenger wanted to go.  He’d gotten lost at least a dozen times trying to find the quiet little lane that was his passenger’s requested destination.

The driver may have spoken little English (and understood even less!), but he certainly knew (or thought he did) most of the English words to four or five holiday carols.  He’d sung each of them several times, distinctly off-key, and as loudly as he could in an apparent effort to drown out the overly-loud voice on the tape in the tape player.

The flat’s door closed behind him, he began to relax.  As he set his briefcase down and picked up the day’s mail, something was nagging at him, however.  There was some small, tiny something out of place … something his subconscious had noticed, but that hadn’t been quite enough to capture his attention.  Muttering absently, he continued sorting through the mail, at the same time cataloging everything that had happened since he stepped out of the taxi.

Paid the driver … yes.  Took the keys from his pocket … yes.  Opened the front door with a quick glance around for anything out of the ordinary … yes.  Nothing unusual in sight … trees were bare, flowers decidedly wilted or dead, car parked neatly in the drive, neighbors windows ….

Car parked neatly in the drive?  He stopped sorting the mail and slowly set it back down.  His car was still at the studio.  That was why he’d had to endure that blasted taxi drive.  So how could his car be neatly parked in the drive?

Slowly he opened the door and double-checked.  Yes, it was his car, and yes, it was parked in the drive.  Still moving slowly, he closed the door and stood there for a moment leaning against it, his head resting against the comforting wood.  Finally he took a deep breath and examined the flat.

Entryway … nothing unusual there.  Everything was where it should be.  He took a step further, easing slowly down the steps to the sunken living room.  Nothing unusual there, either.  He crossed to the bedroom and hesitantly opened the door.  Bed neatly made, everything in its place.

Maybe he was overreacting.  Alec had realized he’d gone home and simply brought the car over so he wouldn’t be without it.  He nodded reassuringly to himself as he crossed to the dining room … and groaned aloud.

Alec had brought the decorating crew with him, it seemed.  The tree from his office was perched merrily on his dining room table, the packages again peeking out from under its lower branches.  Tinsel garland and paper snowflakes decorated the walls and ceiling, with the frantically flashing lights strung around the walls near the ceiling.  The huge stocking was affixed to the swinging door into the kitchen.

And there was the distinct aroma of pine in the air.  Pine and cinnamon … and ... something burning?  He shuddered lightly at the sound of something metallic hitting the floor and then bouncing twice, followed by an ominous tinkling crash and a muttered curse. 

After a moment’s hesitation, he crept quietly through the dining room, carefully avoiding the decorations, and pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen.  He shook his head at the sight that greeted him, wondering how his normally pristine kitchen could have become this unsightly disaster area in so short a time.

Alec, with his back to the door, was on one knee, apparently smearing jam all over the floor.  It was possible that he was actually trying to clean up the mess caused by the broken jam jar lying next to his foot, but that wasn’t what it looked like at all.  The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, bowls, spoons, pots and pans.  The counter space was covered with various items – flour, sugar, towels, more dirty bowls and spoons.  One counter, out of the way for the most part, was covered with a large towel over which was scattered a wide variety of holiday cookies.

He closed his eyes briefly, stifling a groan, then silently backed out of the kitchen, letting the door swing shut.  With one hand, he stopped the door from swinging and stood very still, taking a deep breath.  As Alec began humming, then singing, he made up his mind.

He turned on his heel and made a dignified dash for the door, grabbing up his keys as he yanked the door open and stepped outside.  He heard Alec call out something as the door closed.  Swiftly he crossed the lawn and practically dove into the car.

The car door wasn’t all the way down when he began backing out of the drive.  A glance toward the flat showed that Alec had heard him and was standing on the front step shaking his head and waving his arms.  He grinned to himself and sped away, leaving the flat to Alec’s tender mercies.  When he slowed to make a turn, he turned off the car’s phone and popped a tape into the player.  He had no specific destination in mind; he just wanted to get away.

Several hours later, he pulled over to the side of the road and parked.  He was feeling much better now, much more relaxed.  He could even stand to listen to the holiday music playing softly over the radio.  He reclined the seat back a bit and closed his eyes. 

It was a deserted area on a little-used road, so he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed for a while.  Even though SHADO could locate him – thanks to the locator device in his car – he knew it would take them time to reach him even if they wanted to.

He opened the car door to let in the gentle (although rather cool) breeze.  The air was scented with the fragrance of pine and fir and he could hear the gentle murmur of a small stream nearby.  He realized he was tired and that the sounds of the stream and the soft music were lulling him to sleep.  He didn’t think it would hurt anything if he took a little nap right there.  After all, SHADO could locate him if they needed him….

A strange sound woke him.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but it was full dark when he opened his eyes.  Except for the car’s interior light, that is.  Curious, he stepped out of the car and closed the door.  He waited semi-patiently for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then looked around.  As his eyes focused, a line from the poem one of the operatives had been reciting earlier ran through his head:  “…when what to my wondering eyes did appear …”

Just settling to the ground not a hundred yards from his car … he felt like pinching himself just to be sure he was awake … just settling to the ground was a real honest-to-goodness UFO.  He glanced skyward, but there was no sign of any of SHADO’s sky fighters.  As his gaze moved back to the UFO, he wondered where SHADO’s forces were, then promptly forgot everything else as a hatch slid slowly open on the alien craft and a long, gently-sloped ramp slid out of its side.

He took a step forward, realizing that he’d drawn his gun at some point, and watched as a space-suited figure stepped carefully down the ramp.  The figure paused momentarily at the bottom of the ramp, apparently looking around for something in particular.  Finally having either made up its mind or found what it was looking for, the alien began moving up the slight slope toward the parked car.  It seemed to be carrying something, but there wasn’t enough light to be sure.

Silently, watching the alien as it approached, he considered his options.  He could jump in the car and speed away to safety.  He could, again, jump in the car and call for assistance.  He could simply shoot the alien as it came toward him.  Or he could wait and see what happened.

For some reason, the last option seemed to be the most logical to him in this instance.  A part of him was screaming in frustration, warning him that he was taking a huge chance, risking his life.  Telling him he wasn’t thinking right, that he should be calling for help at the very least. 

He ruthlessly pushed that voice out of his mind and calmly tucked the gun back into its holster.  He suspected that, any other time, he would have raised that gun and shot the alien as soon as it was in range, but that just didn’t seem like the right thing to do tonight, although he couldn’t have said why if there’d been anyone there to ask.

Barely ten yards away, the alien stopped and seemed to look him over.  He stood silently, making no move that could be interpreted as threatening, just waiting, wondering what the alien wanted.  The alien studied him for a few more seconds, then slowly moved forward. 

Again, the alien stopped, this time directly in front of him.  If it had been Alec or Paul instead of an alien, they could have shaken hands, it was so close to him.  It seemed to study him again for a moment, then held out the package it was holding.

He looked down, studying the package, and found himself reaching for it.  He accepted the box from the alien and nodded slightly, looking up and trying to meet the eyes he couldn’t quite see through the liquid in the visor.

The alien nodded slightly, clapped him lightly on the shoulder, then turned and strode back to the UFO.  It paused at the bottom of the ramp again, looking back at him briefly, waved, then turned and climbed the ramp.

He watched as the ramp retracted, the hatch closed and the UFO gracefully lifted into the air.  He watched it climb through the air, then it changed direction and flashed out of sight. 

With a slight shudder, he looked down at the package in his hands, noticing for the first time that it was wrapped in holiday paper and had a huge silvery bow perched on top.  He blinked, looked again in the direction in which the UFO had disappeared, then back at the package.

It wasn’t large, nor was it heavy.  There wasn’t enough light to see the colors on the wrapping paper, but he could guess that they were gold, red, green, or some other holiday color.  He raised it to his ear, but there was no sound coming from inside it.  He shook it gently.  Nothing rattled.

Again, he glanced toward the spot he’d last seen the UFO.  Nothing.  He shook his head and shivered.  He realized he was cold, and hungry.  It was time to head back.  He’d been out of touch for quite a while.  He was certain Alec was worried about him by now.

He climbed into the car and tossed the package into the back seat.  He’d have the experts at SHADO check it out in the morning.  Right now, he wanted some of Alec’s cookies – they had smelled very good, after all – and some holiday cheer.  And then some sleep.

“Merry Christmas, world,” he muttered as he started the car.  He turned the heater on full and raised the volume on the radio just in time to hear the following words:

 

“Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus ….”

 

With a smile, he sang along merrily at the top of his voice, only missing an occasional word here and there.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Somewhere, halfway around the world, a figure in a red suit smiled silently and placed a checkmark beside a name on a long, long list.  Then, with a bubbly “Ho Ho Ho”, the figure read off the next name on the list, picked up a brightly wrapped package and headed off to make his next visit.