Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s so nice to spend some time together, you know? Just the two of us.” Alison watched as the light from the window shone on Mike’s face, illuminating his kind features as he scrolled idly on the laptop. Mike smiled as he looked up, grinning at his wife. “No ghosts in here then?” he asked, his eyes shooting toward the ceiling, as he so often did when discussing their spectral house guests. Alison shot a performative look around the kitchen, although she knew from the uncharacteristic silence that none of the ghosts were nearby. “Nope. Just us. They must be off at one of their little clubs. I think today is ‘what meal would you have if you could still eat?’ Should keep them busy for at least an hour.”

Mike’s face contorted as though he was struggling with a problem. “Spag bol. All out too. Garlic breads. Fancy cheese. The lot.”

“Mike, you know you can still eat, right? Although now you’ve mentioned it I could murder a garlic bread. Been ages since I’ve had good pasta. I’ll make some tonight actually, use up all that fancy cheese we got in for that wedding last week.”

Mike pumped his first in celebration. “Did you ever think you’d reach a point where you’d be this excited about spaghetti?” he chided. Alison stifled a laugh; “I’m just glad we’re finally at a point we can afford a good dinner. I don’t think I could eat another Pot Noodle if my life depended on it.”

“Not even with a dessert of gooseberries?”

“Too soon, Michael. Too soon.”

Alison stretched out her arms, revelling in the all-to-rare serenity she had been granted. As much as she had come to enjoy the company of the ghosts of Button House, she had to admit spending some time with the living had its perk-

“ALISON!”

-there it was.

Kitty burst through the kitchen wall, her face a mess of hysterical tears and snot, waving her hands frantically, a perfect picture of manic distress. Seeing her like this wasn’t all that rare of an occurrence for Alison; the last time was when Pat had made the mistake of showing her the first Alien movie (“I thought it were a chance for her t’see a powerful woman on screen!”); but she seemed particularly upset this time. Mike clocked the change in Alison’s mood almost immediately. “Let me guess. Ghost trouble?”

Alison was already on her feet, rising to meet the distressed spectre. “Oh god Kitty, what’s wrong? Did Robin remind you about the dinosaurs again? For the last time, they all died, Kitty, they can’t hurt you.” Kitty, relaxed somewhat just by Alison’s presence, began to calm down. “Oh thank goodness you’re here Alison,” she stammered, wiping her wet face dry, “and for your information, it’s much worse than a dinosaur!”

“Much… worse… than a dinosaur,” mumbled back a still confused Alison.

“Wait,” interrupted a panicked Mike, “Are there ghost dinosaurs here? Have you been seeing ghost dinos this whole time?” Alison shot him a look and waved him down, silently trying to convey that he wasn’t helping. “What’s wrong Kitty,” she cooed, “what did you see?”

“It was horrible Alison,” began Kitty, “it was shambling about, like this;” she announced, as she began holding her hands above her head, her fingers in a claw grip, “and it was running at a frightful pace, coming straight for me!”

“What was Kitty?”

“A monster, Alison! And the worst part was… it had no head!”

The room went quiet as Alison took in what she’d heard. Almost five years with the ghosts and they continued to surprise her, even if it wasn’t always for the better. “Kitty, you know you’re describing Humphrey, yeah? The headless ghost who you’ve lived with for more than 200 years?”

Kitty wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, now staring at Alison like she had let out a bad smell. “No Alison, I know who Humphrey is, obviously. I’m talking about the monster.”

Alison sighed a deep sigh. “Now Kitty, we’ve been over this before. Monsters aren’t real. Even if Thomas swears he saw a werewolf that one time-”

“-on the moors”

“I’m not convinced it wasn’t just a hairy man, Kitty, and besides, again, monsters aren’t real.”

The short-lived discussion on monsters was cut short with the timely arrival of Julian, carrying with him the head of the just discussed Humphry. Alison gratefully shot a hand toward them. “Ah perfect, right on time guys. Can one of you-”

“No time, Alison,” interrupted Julian, a noticeable panic in his normally measured voice. “Run for your life!” Alison scowled at Julian, suddenly putting the pieces together. “Very funny you guys, making Kitty think that there’s a-”

“HEADLESS MONSTER!” roared Humphry’s head in a distressed cry, “RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” With that, Julian, Humphrey and Kitty all fled, sprinting away at some speed. A confused Mike once again had his eyes skyward, somehow trying to make sense of a conversation he had very little context for. “Are they still here? Are the dinosaurs here?” Alison sat down, more puzzled than she’d been when Kitty had entered. “Must have been some sort of prank or joke or something,” she explained, her expression beginning to soften. “Kitty was talking about some kind of-”
Her train of though was cut short as a headless figure, its arms high and fingers clawed, burst through the wall.
“HEADLESS MONSTER!”
---
Hetty proudly paced the halls of Woodstone Manor, enjoying a rare period where the house was free of the horrid specimens that now often were guests in her formerly glamorous home. While she had something close to fondness for Samantha and a meagre tolerance for Jay (admittedly mostly his scrumptious cooking), she was glad to be rid of hordes of commoners whom she considered a blight on the house’s once noted reputation. How she longed for the days when the manor played host to only the richest and most regal, and the various powders they inevitably brought with them.

“Yo, toots!”

Hetty stopped in her tracks. She knew she had heard it. All she wondered now was who would have the nerve to address her in such a manner.

“Yo toots, ovah here!”

Her eyes sharpened, hawk like and scathing, in an attempt to discover who would be so bold. Soon, she found her man, propped up on the couch in the TV room, a smug look and a dumb sneer on his separated head.

Crash.

His demeanour became even more insufferable when he realised he’d caught her attention, and it took all her acquired poise and dignity to not dismiss him with one of Trevor’s favoured hand gestures. Instead, she wandered over to the couch where he had been presumably and unceremoniously dumped and decided to inform him of his place in the house; “Now Crash, as much as I’m quite sure you have something of monumental importance to pass on, if you should ever refer to me ever again as “toots” I will have Thorfinn take you by your greasy hair and toss you so far into the woods that not even the lord himself will be unable to locate you. Do I make myself clear?”

Crash mulled over what Hetty had said, a number of conflicting emotions playing across his face. Eventually, he relented; “No lie, that’s one of the harshest things a gal has ever said to me. But on the other hand, it did make my neck tingle a little, and that’s the most my engine’s rumbled since I lost a lotta weight, if ya catch my drift.”

Hetty rolled her eyes. She had once been equal to royalty. How had it come to this? Her unspoken prayers were answered when she spied Samantha walking past the door. She had to admit, one of Samantha’s most baffling if useful traits was always her eagerness to deal with the other ghosts and their myriad problems (her own extremely important issues notwithstanding). “Samantha! Oh Samantha!”

Sam bounded over, eager to see what was happening. “Hey Hetty. And Crash! I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long, which is pretty incredible considering that you can’t leave the house. And the whole head body situation, obviously.”

Crash moved his eyebrows in what Sam assumed was supposed to be a body-less version of the forget about it gesture. “Don’t sweat it babe, don’t feel bad about not seeing me about. I have a rich inner life you’d just be treadin’ on, if you’se get me.” Hetty bristled at another dismissive nickname, but she simply buried her feelings in the hope of getting through this torturous conversation quicker. “Anyway,” continued Crash, oblivious to Hetty’s disapproval, “I don’t reckon none of you’se have seen my body about here, have ya?”

“Oh no,” exclaimed Sam, a genuine concern in her voice, “have you lost it? I mean, more than usual?”

A look of worry spread across Crash’s face. “Yeah. I know me and the ol’ bod are normally pretty independent – he likes long walks an’ I like being rolled down the stairs likes a bowling ball – but at the very least I can always feel him.”

“Feel him?” asked a curious Sam.

“You know dat thing where ya close yer eyes and you can still feel yer arms and legs, even when ya can’t see ‘em?”

“Yes,” both the women answered. Sam shot Hetty a look. “Samantha, I’m a ghost, not an amorphous blob. I still know where my arms are.”

“Yeah, and some of us don’t. Could you two put the word on the street, see if any of the stiffs around here have eyes on my chassis?”

“I understood about a third of that sentence and frankly that’s being generous,” sneered Hetty. “Do you have recollection of where the last place your lower half could be? Some kind of deplorable street race? Or perhaps a whorehouse?”

“Wait a hot second there,” Crash started, his face lit up with an idea, “you don’t think my body could have been sucked off, do ya?”

Sam shook her head. She had never considered that separate parts of a ghost could be sucked of- move on without each other. “I doubt it.” insisted Hetty, “I’ve heard tales of previous ghosts from Thor and Sass, and they’ve mentioned anything of the sort. Take solace in the notion that one cannot be sucked off without first getting head.”

“There has to be a better term for what you’re saying,” Sam softly interjected.

“Dat is a relief,” sighed Crash. “Is my arms and legs still hookin’ up with the scary Viking dude and the hippie chick? Maybe they would know?”

“No, Thor and Flower are only concerned with each other now.” Sam said, a smile spreading on her cheeks as she thought of the two lovers. “And sometimes Pete, if he’s feeling adventurous.”

“Da Scout guy? Good for him, he needed a win.” The two women nodded in silent agreement.

Sam was ready to call an all-hands meeting, but before she could begin summoning the ghosts, Trevor and Sass ran into the room of their own accord. “Oh hey guys, great timing! I was just about to call a meeting.”

Trevor and Sass shared a nervous glance. “Is this about the portal wall?” asked an incredulous Sass.

“The what now?”

---

Mike lay on the ground behind an overturned couch, his wife kneeling next to him, deep in conversation with the array of ghosts only she could see. He knew he should be worried at how often situations like this occurred, and how routine they had become. Mostly he was just glad to be involved. “So, what’s the situation again?” he asked. “Run it by me just one more time.”

Alison peeked over the settee, hoping to catch a glimpse of the headless horror that had chased her into the living room. “Basically, there’s some kind of headless ghost thing loose in the house somewhere. It chased after Kitty earlier and now it’s after us.”

Mike thought on what she’d said. “Wait, so if it’s something the ghosts can see, it must be a ghost too, right?”

“Probably. Why?”

“Well, if it’s a ghost thing, why are we hiding? What’s it gonna do, run through us really hard?”

Alison had to admit he had a good point, if not good enough to get her out from behind the couch. She once again braved a glance over the makeshift barricade, only to spy the Captain and Robin, ignorant of the threat at hand, in casual conversation.

“I say. So even back in the stone age you still had the concept of war?”

“Oh yeah. Some times other guys wan’ your guys furs. Your rocks. Sometimes just no like look of you face. So you have a big fight ‘bout it, who ever got most not dead at end win.”

“Elegant in it’s simplicity, if nothing else.”

Alison began hissing at the pair, caught between trying to get their attention without calling out her headless pursuer. “Pssst. You guys. Over here!”

The pair marched over, both curious as to why Alison had redecorated so abruptly. “Good day Alison! Must say, I’m not quite sure what you were attempting with this decorative statement, but I appreciate the gusto! Reminds me of when the squad and I were in the trenches together-”

“Me not know you was in trench.”

“Well, in training, of course. But the methodology was the same, I assume.”

Alison began hushing the pair of them, waving them behind the couch with her and Mike. “Keep your voices down! You might alert the monster!” The tense silence was suddenly broken with Robin’s guttural laughter, accompanied by the Captain’s reserved chuckle.

“Very good Alison. Me forget it July fools already. But you have try harder next time.”

“I concur. I’ll admit, overturning the furniture was quite a keen touch Alison, but you’ll have to be a little more on the ball if you want to pull the wool over our eyes!”

Alison did everything she could not to cry out. “For Pete’s sake, can you two just get behind the couch!” The pair shuffled down behind the overturned furniture, eager to see what Alison was up to.

“So Alison, what’s this monster we’re up against then?” the Captain asked, his tone light and teasing. “The Loch Ness Monster perhaps? Count Dracula?” Robin was almost beside himself. “Yeah, maybe it a giraffe!” The Captain and Alison both stared at Robin, incredulous. “Robin, not to get too far away from the present danger,” Alison began explaining, “but you know giraffes are real right? Like they exist right now.”

“Yeah yeah Alison. A horse with snake neck and size of elephant? Puh-lease.”

“What’s happening Alison?” enquired a puzzled Mike, “What’s happening now? Is it there?”

“Robin doesn’t believe giraffes exist.”

“What does that have to do with the creepy headless ghost?”

“I must say Alison that’s a horrid way for Michael to refer to Humph-”

“It’s not Humphrey! It’s some other crazed headless ghost thing! That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”

Robin and the Captain shared a pensive glance. As much as Alison was one for a joke, it was unlike her to pull Mike into her plans. That, and it was it was late July, far past the point where even the most lax April Fools joke would be acceptable. Soon the Captain’s mind was aflutter. If she was telling the truth than that meant…

“There’s an enemy loose in the home base!” announced the Captain, rising boldly from behind their makeshift barricade. “And that means this is now an active combat zone! We must rally the troops, locate our enemy, and devise a winning battle strategy! Alison!”

“Yes Captain?” She couldn’t help but be drawn in to his enthusiasm.

“I want you to begin assembling the rest of the squad; we’re going to need all the feet on the ground for this one, strength in numbers after all! Michael!”

Mike, still leaning behind the couch, did not react.

“Ahem! MICHAEL!”

“He can’t hear you, Captain.” Alison whispered, trying not to take the wind out of sails.

“Ah yes, quite. Alison, could you tell Michael to begin construction of a smaller, more easily defensible base of operations? This room is much too big, far too many entrance points to defend. I’m thinking we should assemble our regiment outside. Give us complete 360 visibility.”

“Wait, why does Mike have to build the base by himself?”

“I have to do what? Why do I have to do it?”

“Michael has a unique advantage here. As he lacks the ability to actually see our enemy, he’s by far the least likely to be distracted if the braggart appears.”

“What’s he saying Alison?”

“He says it has to be you because you’re… the bravest. And strongest.” Mike’s demeanour changed almost instantly, any fear he had evaporating in the face of the compliment. He began to flex, a smug look on his face. “Yep, that tracks. Don’t you worry El Capitan, Big Mike is on it,” he boasted, his eyes once again pointing toward the ceiling. “You just focus on busting this ghost and by the time you need it this base will be ready.” With that, he was off.

“And finally Robin!”

“Yeah.”

“I need you to locate and keep eyes on this hostile at large. So far all we know is that the enemy is headless, but between a lack of potential suspects and a limited field of attack I’m hopeful you should be able to track them down. I shall be hard at work, forming the next stage of our plan of attack. At once!”

Robin gave the Captain a mock salute, with Alison matching with a curt nod, both of them exiting in different directions.

Half an hour later, Alison and the rest of the ghosts were marching out to the front garden, where Mike sat on a single couch.

“Is that it?” asked an unimpressed Pat. “Hardly Fort Knox is it?”

Alison was equally flabbergasted. “What happened to the barricade Mike?”

Mike leaned back, spreading both his arms across the room of the sofa. “Well, at first, I tried to drag this thing out, and it was really hard – have you ever lifted a couch by yourself? It’s not easy. Then, after I got this out, I started thinking: what good would a barricade be against a ghost anyway? Won’t just walk right through it? So then I got tired and stopped.”

The ghosts nodded silently, considering Mike’s point.

“Fair play,” agreed Julian, taking a seat next to Mike. “So what do we do now? Just wait until this thing gets us then?”

“I’ms sorry,” said Mary, apologetically mumbling, “but what is this being that be pursuing us?”

“I’d quite like to know that as well,” echoed Fanny, annoyed as usual, “I was in the middle of a really steam… intellectually stimulating passage in my latest book-”

“Still reading The Princess and the Pillager?” enquired Humphrey, stifling a laugh.

“-and I do not appreciate being drawn out to the lawn with fanciful tales of heartless ghouls!”

“Headless Fanny, not heartless!” corrected Thomas.

“Although we can’t say for sure that it does have a heart,” weighed in Pat.

“I can’t say anything about this demon apparent!” Stressed Thomas. “For all we know we’re all paying the price for one of Kitty’s fanciful follies!”

“It’s real!” started Kitty, defensive. “And it wasn’t just me that saw it! Julian and Humphrey saw it too!”

Julian nodded in silent agreement. “Oi, Thomas, could you give me shake?” asked Humphrey, eager to also nod along.

“BANG! BANG BANG!” The Captain’s words silenced the group, drawing their attention toward him. “Steady on people. In times of conflict it is imperative that we keep a cool head. We must not let this man top us, no matter how much he pushes!”

“D’ye mean topple, mate?” asked Pat.

“Of course. That’s what I said. Now, first off, we must pool together our available knowledge. Kitty, I believe you got a good look at this blighter. Care to describe him?”

Kitty was beaming, eager to share what she had seen. “Of course. If I remember right, it was at least seven feet tall. Maybe eight. It had horrible black, leathery skin, and massive claws! And I think it could breathe fire, although I was running away so it might have just been shooting fire from its fingers, I can’t be sure.”

The group went quiet, each attempting to take stock of what Kitty had said. Eventually, the Captain spoke up; “Righto then. Julian, Humphrey, would you… um, care to corroborate?”

“It’s a headless bloke in a leather jacket, if you must know,” said Julian, causing a wave of relief to spread among the group. “Quite a cool customer really, aside from the whole ‘chasing us down’ business.”

“Oh yes,” added Kitty, “that’s right. Apologies everyone.”

“Where did it come from though?” asked Alison. “It’s dressed too modern to be one of the plague ghosts. And we’d have heard if there had been any recent deaths, especially after we moved in.”

Their questions were interrupted by the sight of Robin rushing through from the front door, sprinting over to the group.

“Ah, finally,” said the Captain. “I take it you’ve found our headless interloper then?” Robin was still gathering his breath, answering the Captain’s question with a lone extended finger, signing for one minute. Eventually, after much drawing in of air, Robin was finally ready to answer;

“He over there.” Robin pointed toward the couch, where the group was assembled. The ghosts turned, only to discover a headless, leather jacket body stood behind them. All of them began to shout, scattering in all directions, causing the formerly calm body to begin to wildly gesticulate before charging towards Alison.

“ALISON! I SHALL DEFEND YOU!” With that mighty shout, Thomas threw himself at the corpse, causing both of them to clatter to the ground.

---

“Hey babe, you around?” asked Jay, to no response. “She’s probably with the ghosts.” He continued to the empty living room. “I have to got get more friends who are still alive.” He began to wander the house, hoping that whatever his darling wife was up to now wasn’t too weird, although he wasn’t confident. “Yo Sam! Where you at!”

“I’m up here Jay!” Jay made his way up the stairs, only to find Sam seemingly taking cover inside one of the doorways, staring at the wall at the end of the corridor. “Hey babe, what are you and – I’m just spitballing here – five ghosts doing taking cover from a blank wall?”

Sam guided him into the doorway, before locking her eyes back on to the wall. “That’s the portal wall,” she offered, as though the remark presented anything close to an explanation. Jay just nodded along, trying to process what she’d just said.

“Okay, I think I’m going to need just a touch more context on this one because it almost sounded like you said this was a portal wall, and that would easily be top ten most insane things you’ve ever said.”
Sam threw him a playful look. “Okay, so Trev and Sass were playing a game of El Toro with Crash’s body-”

“El Toro?”

“He doesn’t know about El Toro?” asked Sass, surprisingly hurt.

“Basically, Trev and Sass try and bait Crash’s body into running at them and then they try to dodge out of the way.”

“That’s a gross oversimplification,” protested Trevor, “El Toro is a regal sport with a long history and deep strategy!” Sass nodded in fervent agreement.

“Oh please, you invented it last month after you watched Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.”

“Paul Reubens was a genius and El Toro is a way to honour his legacy!”

“Babe why are we talking about Pee-Wee? You know I’m always down to discuss that absolute masterpiece but I don’t see what that has to do with you being scared of a wall?”

“Right, so when they were playing El Toro, Crash… well crashed through the wall there, and it seems as though he’s gone straight through it.” Jay couldn’t help but pull a confused face. “Sam, I hate to point out the obvious here, but don’t all the ghosts go through walls? It’s like one of the definitive ghost facts.”

“I don’t mean like, he fell through the wall outside, I mean like he went through and hasn’t come back. Then Sass stuck his head through and said he saw like a whole other room through there.”

Jay’s mind was suddenly awash with thoughts. “Wait, like a whole other house? Can the ghosts go there? Does that mean it’s inside the boundary? What happened to Crash? What does this mean for the business? Do you think we can include them in the room numbers?” Sam wasn’t even sure where to begin answering his questions, although one leapt out to her.

“Where is Crash, guys?”

Trevor and Sass slowly turned, realising the implications of the question, although neither dared to answer.

“Oh my god, you left him in the other house? What if something happened to him?”

“What if something happened to us?” fired back Trevor. “Imagine how bad this would have been if we’d lost three ghosts instead of…” Trevor noticed that Sass was shaking his head, trying to get him to shut up, “-not that I’m saying Crash is lost, obviously. But, ya know, if he is, this is basically the best case scenario.”

“What, they left Crash?” asked Jay, unaware of Trevor’s terrible excuse. Jay turned to Sam, a guilty look on his face now, “which one is Crash again?”

“50s guy. Head and body separate. Doesn’t really involve himself with the main ghosts that much.”

“Right… and they left Crash?” Jay repeated as he marched toward the wall. “Please Jay, be careful.” Sam pleaded, an evident worry in her voice. “Relax babe, I’ll be fine. This is probably only a ghost thing anyway, I’m betting it doesn-”

Jay’s reassurance was cut short when his foot caught on a loose floorboard, sending him tumbling through the wall.

“JAY!” Sam yelled, scrambling to reach the wall in a desperate attempt to make sure Jay was alright. Even Trevor and Sass were running to help, despite their lack of any real ability to contribute. Their worries were soon allayed when Jay’s peeked back, looking only slightly worse for wear despite his tumble; “babe, you have got to check this place out. There’s a whole creepy house through here!”

Soon, all of the other Woodstone ghosts were assembled in front of the wall. Despite Jay’s protests that he was ready to, in his own words, “blaze a trail and really check this place out,” Sam had insisted in sending in some of the ghosts first, arguing that “they’re already dead, so really, what have they got to lose?” Now the only hurdle to surmount was which of the ghosts were going to be first in.

“Now, I understand sending in Thor,” said Alberta, “cause he’s about eight feet of angry Norseman. But are we really about to send Pete in to face whatever the hell is on the other side of thing?”

“Trying not to take offence to the implication there,” argued Pete, trying to hide how much offence he had taken from her implication. “Beside, charging head first in to the unknown is one of the central principals of being a scout!”

“I don’t wanna be a downer man, but like the last you followed the rules of being a scout didn’t you totally get shot in the neck?”

“Thanks Flower, that’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Thorfinn think it brave of puny Pete to charge into what might be dangerous waters despite being woefully unprepared. Incredibly foolish, but brave also.” Thorfinn punctuated his quasi compliment by slamming his massive hand on to Pete’s back, almost sending him to the ground.

“Thank you Thor, I really appreciate that! And there’s no-one I’d rather be heading into this thing with you!”

“Of course, if anyone else want to volunteer, Thor open to suggestions.” At this remark, all of the other ghosts suddenly refused to make eye contact with Thor, all pretending to be hugely interested in the ceiling and floor.

“I think Isaac should go!” offered Alberta. “He used to be an army guy!”

“For everyone’s information, I was a captain, thank you very much,” retorted an offended Isaac, his ego overcoming his fear. “Although, full discretion, I was always more of a ‘command from the tent’ sort of leader. Ask any of my troops and they’d tell you themselves, “Isaac Higgentoot is man with a firm rear-end!”

“Oh I bet they would” murmured an unimpressed Hetty.

“Everyone, focus up!” Sam declared, silencing the ghosts with a wave of her hand. “Crash’s body is lost somewhere in that other house, potentially being attacked by who knows what, and we’re wasting time arguing about this when we should be helping!”

“Hell yeah Sam, way to command a room,” said a clearly impressed Jay. “You know how much I love it when you take charge.”

“Sam right,” agreed Thorfinn, who was clearly ready for action, “no more time for weak baby talk! Now is time to face our enemies and rescue our friends!” He suddenly grabbed Pete, placing a powerful hand on each of his shoulders. “Pete, are you ready to stare death in face and take your place in the halls of Valhalla?”

“Oh boy when you put it like that it does sound real scar-”

“This is no time for Pete’s usual fear! Be as brave in this bloody war as you tender and caring in throuple! We shall ride triumphant, an unstoppable force of destruction! ARE YOU READY?”

“Heck yeah Thorfinn! Let’s do this! For Crash!”

“FOR CRASH!”

Both of them sufficiently hyped up, they charged toward the wall, soon vanishing through it, in to the unknown.

----

Chapter Text

The residents of Button House, both living and dead, were still assembled outside of the house, now gathered around the lone couch that Mike had managed to drag outside. In an effort to restrain the headless, leather jacketed intruder, Pat and Julian were currently sat on top of him; Pat on his still thrashing legs and Julian on his back.

“Stop yer wrigglin’! Demanded Pat, struggling to stay still. “Charging at a defenceless woman! Bloody wrong’un! Don’t suppose you’d fancy changing places, would you Julian?”

“I’m afraid not Patrick – I haven’t felt the sensation of leather on my nether since the 86 party conference – the theme was leather and lace. Although I could have gone without seeing John Major in that three piece. We told him purple wasn’t his colour but he just would not be persuaded.”

As the headless ghost continued to try and shake free, a shaken Alison was being comforted by Mike. “You sure you’re alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he asked, rubbing a gentle hand down Alison’s side. “Yeah Mike, I’m fine. Honestly now I think on it I don’t actually know if it could have done anything. Although, on the other hand, I suppose he could have like, a ghost power that meant he could have done something.”

“What, like making a bad smell? Flickering a light?” Mike laughed at his own jibe, much to the ghosts combined annoyance.

“Excuse me!” announced Julian, attempting to stand before being pulled back down by Pat. “Some of us are in fact more than capable of affecting the living, thank you very much!” He held his finger high, attempting his best James Bond pose, to no-one’s amusement.

“But they’ve got it under control now, yeah?” asked Mike, glancing down to where he assumed – incorrectly – the ghosts were assembled.

“Yeah,” Alison replied, “All thanks to… oh god.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hold your thanks, Alison,” announced Thomas, attempting to put his arm around her shoulder, only to phase straight through, “in fact, it is I who should be thanking you. If not for your recent imperilment, I would not have discovered my own capability for heroics. To think this morning I was but a lovestruck poet, to now find myself like noble Heracles himself!”

Alison let out a heavy sigh. “Oh boy. Now Thomas, as much as-”

“Let not our words diminish my glorious acts this day. Simply rest easy knowing that no harm shall come to you as long as I guard you.”

“I feel safer already.” She was thankful to see the Captain marching toward her, if just for a temporary relief from Thomas and his pining. “Now Alison, as much as I always enjoy having a man on his back, capturing one soldier brings us little comfort in the face of a continuing invasion!”

“Yeah, good point. Where do we think this guy came from?”

“I say we pat him down for any evidence: wallet, a driver’s license, something of that nature,” suggested Fanny. Soon all eyes were on her (sans Mike), surprised at her suggestion. “I’ve been watching a lot of Vera recently. Frightfully good.”

Soon after, Pat was holding the headless corpse’s wallet in his hands. “Says ‘ere he’s ‘Alex Hudson’. Bloody ‘ell, it says ‘ere he’s from New York!” A series of gasps from the others followed, although only Mary had something to say;

“Well I’lls be. A second York! And where’s that be?”

“It’s in America, Mary,” explained Alison, “though that still doesn’t explain how he got over here.”

“Maybe he walk!” Suggested Robin.

“We’ve been over this Robin, you can’t walk from continent to continent.”

“Hmph. Maybe you can’t. Me do it once. Dead easy.”

“I think Alison’s right,” added Kitty, eager to come to Alison’s defence. “Besides, how would he have left his boundary. We can’t even go next door, let alone off to some other country!”

“Perhaps he somehow perished here?” offered Fanny. “Some hopeless vagabond from the states finally decides to emigrate to a more civilised country only to die just he arrives?”

“God that’s so sad,” said Alison, “if only there was some way to check where he had died. Oh wait, actually-” She pulled her phone from her pocket and began typing away, much to Fanny’s surprise. “Does that device really list when each of us died?”

“Some of us,” offered a bitter Julian. “Despite my protests!”

Alison did her best to ignore them. “Wait, I’ve got something here. Says here ‘an Alex ‘Crash’ Hudson’ died after crashing during some kind if illegal race at a place called ‘Woodstone Manor.”

“Where’s that?” asked Mike, now fully lying on the couch, his hat pulled over his eyes.

“Hold on,” said Alison, back to typing away at her phone. “Seems like it’s some sort of bed and breakfast, but again it’s in New York.”

She handed her phone to Mike, who began to inspect the photos of the rival operation. “Nice place. It’s actually a lot nicer than-”

Alison shot him a dirty look.

“- a lot of other places I’ve seen. Not ours though.”

“Good save Mike. But still, how did this guy end up here?”

All assembled went quiet, lost in thought.

“Perhaps his head somehow ended separated from his body?” suggested Thomas. “Somehow allowing him to freely travel between the two locals?”

“Not how it works, I’m afraid.” retorted Humphrey.

“Besides,” said Julian, a hint of smarm in his voice, “what kind of car accident would leave his head a continent removed from the rest of his extremities? Unless he crashed a bloody rocket ship!”

“That can’t be right,” countered Kitty. “Then he’d need one of those fancy astronaut suits.”

“Do you think maybe it’s something to do with old buildings?” asked Mike, looking up the phone. “Like once a building gets all ancient and that ghosts can just like ‘whoosh’ there?” He illustrated his whoosh with a hand motion.

“Might it be some kind of tunnel network? Running underneath the house?” offered the Captain.

“From America?” replied Julian.

“One that go to France now. Saw it on telly.” countered Robin.

“I have an idea!” announced Kitty. “I think, when enough ghosts live together, it creates a reserve of a sort of spectral energy. Then, when enough builds up, it punches a hole through the very fabric of reality, allowing travel across vast physical distances.” All eyes were suddenly on Kitty, and she revealed in the attention. “Or something like that.” All the ghosts went quiet, ruminating on Kitty’s uncharacteristic outburst.

“I’d like to get back to Michael’s idea of old buildings” said the Captain, and suddenly all of the ghosts began to debate each other.

----

Elsewhere in Button House, Pete and Thorfinn were attempting to piece together where they had ended up.

“This place is real dump. Really make me appreciate the work Sam has done on Woodstone.” grunted Thorfinn.

“I didn’t take you for an aspiring interior decorator.” replied a surprised Pete.

“You can tell lots from way man choose to decorate. Back home, we Nords take great pride in our homes. To mount skin of beast on wall is to honour the animal who you have bested and celebrate good hunt. To paint a mural to warrior gods is to ensure blessing of the Allfather on next voyage.”

“Wow Thor, that’s actually really touching.”

“Now Danes on other hand, no sense of taste. I see many homes during raids and pillages. Almost as disgusting to look at as Danes themselves. Honestly, we do them a favour when we burn them to the ground.”

Pete went silent, unable to think of a response.

“So, where do you think we are?” asked Thorfinn.

“Old house, grey skies, and greener outside than me after seafood? Has to Britain. I’d wager England at a push.”

Thorfinn stopped in his tracks, staring at the skinny scoutmaster with something close to respect. “You can tell all this just from looking outside?”

“Any travel agent worth his salt could do the same. You sell enough countryside cottage getaways and you pick up a detail or two. The big question is how we got here.”

“Got where?” asked a mysterious voice from behind, causing both Pete and Thor to cry out, although one scream was significantly higher than the other.

The pair turned to find Isaac and Alberta stood behind them. An aggrieved Thorfinn drew his sword. “Damn you! Announce yourselves next time! I could have cleaved you in two!”

“What in the H-E-double sticks are you two doing here anyway?”

“Well,” began Isaac, “after some brief consideration I realised you two might need my considerable military expertise should you encounter resistance.”

“Hetty shamed you into coming didn’t she?”

Isaac nodded vigorously. “She was absolutely ruthless about it too. I’m normally a guy who doesn’t mind going below the belt but when she wants to hurt she can be vicious!”

Alberta shrugged off Pete’s concern. “Oh please. I love gossip and I love danger. You don’t spend all your time hanging out with bootleggers and gangsters without jumping into the unknown a few times. I wasn’t going to let you two have all the fun yourselves.”

Pete and Thorfin shared a glance and a nod, satisfied with the twin explanations.

Soon, the four arrived in the drawing room, where the couch was still upturned.

“So Pete,” said Alberta, “You were saying you reckon this dump is in England?”

“I think Pete’s right,” agreed Isaac. “I’ve known my share of Englishmen and each of them was as drab and depressing as this place. A very grey people overall.”

“Now that’s just mean,” offered Pete. “Sure this place is maybe a bit of a… fixer-upper, but I think it’s got a sort of rustic charm about it.”

“Pizza with a burnt crust has a rustic charm Pete. This place should be condemned.”

“Weaklings!” Shouted Thor, “cease your incessant prattling and gather at the window! You must see this!”

“I take offence at being called a weakling!” spat Isaac.

“And I take offence at being grouped in with Isaac and Pete!” hissed Alberta.

“Honestly ‘weakling’ isn’t even top five worst things I’ve called this week.” admitted Pete. “What is it Thor?”

Soon all four were stood at the large window, staring out onto the lawn and the eclectic array of figures assembled on it. “A motley crew of adversaries indeed.” mused Thorfinn, rubbing his fingers contemplatively through his beard. “I should be able to take out most if you can handle the remaining few.”

“Hold your horses there Thor!” decried Pete. “We don’t even know if they’re bad guys or not. I say we try good old fashioned conversation.”

“I call dibs on the army man,” announced Alberta. “I do like me a man in uniform.” She held a finger out, anticipating Pete’s next words. “And I don’t mean a scout uniform, Pete.”

“Yes,” echoed Isaac, “the military man does seem to be quite a prime specimen. I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that myself.”

“I know you just heard me call dibs.”

“Enough of your dibs!” said Thorfinn, waving his hand to silence them. “Look in the middle. Is that not the body of Crash these fiends are using as some kind of makeshift seat?”

Isaac was the first to catch on.“My god, Thor is right! They’ve pinned him to the ground! We should do something!”

“And when they have a perfectly good couch right there? What evil ne'er-do-wells!”

Thorfinn’s rage was beginning to bubble over. “We must act! We must tear these demons asunder! Pete!”

“Aye-aye!”

“Isaac!”

“Right here.”

“Alberta!” There was no answer. “Where is Alberta?”

From a few rooms over, they heard her powerful cry; “Hold on Crash! Alberta’s comin’ to rescue you!”

A quiet “oh no” is all Pete could muster before the three were in pursuit, in equal measure to make sure Alberta was okay as much as Crash.

----

Out on the lawn, the Button House ghosts were still fiercely debating the possible origin of their headless intruder. “Frankly,” said an indignant Thomas, “I still think we’ve heard nothing more convincing than my theory of Barclay being a serial killer!”

All the others let out a collective groan.

“It makes perfect sense! He obviously killed this poor fellow at the very edge of the estate and sloppily dumped his headless corpse over the fence.”

“I don’t buy it,” argued Julian, still sat on the wriggling headless figure. “I’ve known plenty of Barclay’s ilk in my time. Guys like that would never get their own hands so dirty.”

“I concur,” said Fanny. “Besides, he doesn’t fit the profile of a serial killer. Most of those types turn out the way they do because they lack the love of a maternal figure. Everything I’ve seen of that wretched man suggests he was coddled as a boy. A woman can always tell.”

The group, lost in impassioned debate, failed to notice Mike, who rose from the couch and began to look around inquisitively. “Alison, can you hear that?” Alison waved her hands in a futile attempt to silence the ghosts around her. “Hear what?”

“It’s like… a woman shouting?” It was then that Alison saw her; a woman charging toward them from the door.

“Crash! Hold on! I’m coming! I’m… running out of breath. Oh god… I shouldn’t have ran through the house! Curse these short little legs!”

The rest of the Button House ghosts were silent, all eyes locked on Alberta as she came to a stop, bent over, her hands on her knees. The Captain was the first to break from the group, making his way over to her.

“Careful Captain,” warned a tensive Pat. “Could be some sort of trick.”

“Hush Patrick. It is an officer’s duty to assist a woman in need! Ma'am, are you quite alright?” He made is way over and bent down to meet her, extending a firm hand in aid.

“I don’t need your help, Hogan’s Heroes! Although…” She grabbed him by the arm, enjoying the chance to feel his muscles. “Mhm. That’s what I’m after.”

“Someone’s barking up the wrong tree...” muttered Julian.

“Ahem. Yes. Quite so.” The Captain began, freeing himself from her grasp and straightening his uniform. “Well, let me introduce myself. The names Captain-”

“Alberta!” Thorfinn charged across the threshold, his sword drawn and his shield ready. “Unhand her, English dogs! Or prepare to taste my blade!”

“Everyone! Protect Alison!” shouted Thomas, leaping between her and the large Viking, throwing his arms wide in a valiant if unneeded move.

The Woodstone ghosts leapt into action, assuming the closest to a combat stance each of them could muster. Thorfinn in turn stepped in front of Alberta, waving his sword wildly. Soon Isaac was at his back, somewhat less assured of his own combat prowess. “That’s right, stand back you Loyalist scum! These hands have killed you know!”

Mary stepped forward, examining Isaac’s hands. “Very soft hands, isn’t they?”

Isaac inspected his own hands, enjoying what he assumed was a compliment. “Why thank you. Many of the men under the command often noted how soft I was.”

“I bet they did.” hummed an unimpressed Humphrey.

Alison stepped forward, raising her hands in an attempt to stop the chaos. “Guys, guys! Can we please be calm for two secon-” Her words were cut short when Thorfinn swung forward, his sword passing harmlessly through her. Everyone present went silent, shocked at Thorfinn’s attempted attack.

“WELL EXCUSE YOU!” Shouted an indignant Fanny, stepping forward and slapping Thorfinn across the face. “Attacking a defenceless lady! Shame on you sir!”

Thorfinn bristled at the slap, but Alberta put a hand on his chest, holding him. She looked at Alison, putting the pieces together. “Wait a damn minute. This girl is still alive?”

“Yes she is, despite the best efforts of your brutish friend!” roared an outraged Thomas.

“And she can see us?” Alberta shot a surprised look at Isaac, who nodded back.

“Who can see us?” asked Pete, finally on the scene. “Sorry for the delay, got caught up admiring some of the details back in the house. So much period character!” Pete looked around the assembled ghosts, taking them in for the first time. “Wow, so many new faces!” He stuck out his hand with a warm gesture. “I’m Pete Martino, formerly in travel but currently thriving in the afterlife. And who are-” Pete went quiet, having made eye contact with Pat. Pat rose from Crash’s back, taking Pete’s hand warmly.

“Oh goodness,” beamed Kitty, “they’re like twins! How wonderful!”

“The names Pat.” he stammered, equally as struck by Pete. “Pat Butcher.”

They held the handshake, neither letting go. Both of them eyed the other’s uniform, their eyes landing on each other’s arrow.

“Nasty way to go, eh?” offered Pat with a wry smile.

“Tell me about it,” replied Pete. “What happened to you?”

“Me own fault really. Was showing the lads how to shoot an arrow and made the ultimate rookie move-”

“Never stand in front of the pointy end!” finished Pete.

“I think Jay might have some competition for Pete’s best friend.” Alberta whispered to Isaac.

“I think you might have some competition for the object of Pete’s affections.” Isaac replied.

“Sorry to break this up,” said Alison, leaning past Pat’s shoulder. “Hi there, I’m Alison. Long story short, still alive, but yeah I can see ghosts.”

“Oh wow,” replied Pete, “another one! What are the odds?” Alison furrowed her brow. “Wait sorry, another what?”

“Another living who can see ghosts, he means. Hi there, Captain Isaac Higgentoot, at your service. This is Alberta, and the man who tried to kill you is Thorfinn. I see you’ve already met Crash.”

“Oh god, sorry!” said Alison, frantically signalling Julian to stand and free the wriggling corpse. “We didn’t mean to hurt him or anything! It’s just he turned up out of nowhere, and all of us got a little scared…”

“All’s good in the neighbourhood!” said Pete. “He seems fine, still in one… well two pieces I guess.”

“His head is back home with us,” explained Alberta. “And let us apologise for the fact that his maroon tried to cut you in half with a broadsword.”

“Sorry for that,” mumbled Thorfinn, still rubbing his cheek. “Been a long time since been in fight. Got too worked up.” Fanny and Thomas glared at him, even as Alison waved down his apology.
“Don’t sweat it, no harm done. As long as we’re doing intros, you’ve met Pat-”

“Alright?”

“That’s Mary-”

“Allo!”

“Thomas-”

“A pleasure.”

“This is Fanny-”

“That’s Lady Stephanie Button, thank you very much.”

“Kitty-”

“Helloooooooo!”

“Robin-”

“Yuh.”

“Julian-”

“Proud to serve the people of-”

“The Captain-”

“Jolly good!”

“And the guy on the couch is Mike.” Mike simply gave a wave, his skyward eyes betraying the fact he knew this was a ghost matter.

“Can he…” started Isaac.

“No,” said Alison with a curt shake. “He can’t see ghosts. Just me!”

“Just like Jay!” mused Pete.

“Who’s Jay?” asked Alison.

“Oh we have got to introduce you to Sam and Jay,” said Alberta. “Y’all have so much in common.”

“Sam’s great.” offered Pete. “Cute as a button, as patient as a saint, just a general hoot to be around. And Jay, ho boy, what a guy!”

“And this Sam, she can see ghosts too? She’s like me?”

“Wait,” said Mike, finally paying attention, “there’s someone else who can see ghosts?”

“Seems so, yeah. I mean, we always said I couldn’t be the only one right? I mean, people survive stuff like falling out of windows all the time, don’t they?”

“Sam fell down the stairs!” said Pete, in a much too cheerful tone.

“But wait, how did you all end up here?”

“We came through portal wall,” explained Thorfinn matter of factly. All of the Button House ghosts exchanged curious glances. “Come again?” asked the Captain.

“You don’t know about portal wall? We all just come through now. Go right back to Woodstone Manor in no time at all.”

“’Ang on,” said Pat, a hand on his chin. “Does that mean then…”

“Kitty was right!” finished Fanny.

“Good gracious,” began the Captain, a tone of unmistakable pride in his voice, “Kitty, you absolute genius-”

The group turned to congratulate her, only to discover that Kitty was currently lost in a game of tag with Crash’s body.

“Well,” the Captain continued, somewhat deflated, “nevertheless… do you suppose this so-called ‘portal’ system works both ways?”

“You mean, we could go through to Woodstone Manor?” asked Alison.

“Sorry,” interrupted Mike, “how are we supposed to get to New York? We can barely afford to go to the shops.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, the Viking ghost who tried to kill me says there’s a portal wall in the house that’ll just let us basically warp through. Is that right?”

“Indeed.” agreed Thorfinn.

Mike began to pace, taking in everything that Alison had said. “Right. Righto. Right. So, just to recap… There’s a Viking ghost here?”

“His name’s Thorfinn. There’s also a scout named Pete, some kind of 1920’s jazzy type named Alberta, and what looks like some kind of American Revolution army guy called Isaac.”

“Cool. And one of them tried to kill you?”

“It’s fine. He apologised. It’s all sorted.”

“Yep yep yep. And they say there’s a ‘portal wall’ in the house?”

“That leads through to Woodstone Manor, yeah.”

“Where the headless ghost came from earlier?”

“They didn’t say that but that seems a good guess, sure.”

“Okay then. That all seems a-okay, definitely don’t have lots of really concerning follow up questions there.”

Isaac and Alberta were nodding, both of them impressed. “Oh, she’s good. Handled that like a total pro.” he said.“We have got to get her and Sam together. They’ll love each other.” she replied.

Mary began shaking her head. “Nows how do we knows that these folks weren’t sent here by the Prince of Lies hisself?”

“Excuse me?” asked an offended Alberta.

“I don’t means to be causing any offence,” Mary continued, “but I do finds it a tad queer that these fanciful strangers has appeared out of the thin air and nows are trying to lure us into some kind of haunted wall. Just seems to me likes the work of an infernal demon is alls.”

“I do not appreciate being compared to the devil!” hissed Alberta. “Unless it’s some kind of roundabout way of calling me hot, in which case, I’ll allow it.”

“And I must profess I don’t love her use of the word ‘queer’ there!” agreed Isaac.

“I gotta admit I don’t love the references to Hell either, seeing as how I was so close to ending up there-” started Pete-

“Did he just say he almost got sent to Hell?” exclaimed Humphrey.

“But I do understand that our new friends might have some suspicions about us. After all, this is a lot to take in.”

“What’s happening now?” asked Mike.

“Mary thinks the new ghosts might be demons trying to lure us to hell,” Alison explained.

Mike let out a performative chuckle before putting his arm around Alison, leaning in to whisper to her; “Could this lot be demons? Because if so I am out.” Alison scrunched her face in response, unsure of how to reply.

“Come now Mary,” declared the Captain, “this fine lot of new recruits seem quite on the level!”

“’Ang on,” started Robin, “wasn’t that few minutes ago! You was all “enemy at gates! Assemble the troops! Guard the rear!”

“He’s got a point mate,” agreed Humphrey.

“And a good Captain impression…” muttered Thomas.

“Alright, alright!” sputtered the Captain, getting flustered. “I just think we should extend the kindness of trust now that we’ve gotten to know them!”

“Hear hear!” announced Julian, drawing everyone’s attention. “As an elected representative, I think it is my, and by extension, our civic duty at this crucial moment to extend the gentle hand of diplomacy.”

“Well said, no-pants!” said Alberta.

“After all,” Julian continued, drawing his eyes lecherously off of Alberta, “I for one leap at the chance to, ahem, explore new openings with our American friends.” Alberta shuddered and made sure her overcoat was closed.

“Behave yourself!” warned Fanny.

“I think it’s wonderful!” echoed Kitty, finally back from her game. “All these new friends to meet, and with the promise of even more! It’s like one thousand Christmases all at once!”

“Gotta say I am absolutely loving the positivity from Kitty over here!” squealed Pete, shooting Kitty a double thumbs up, which she eagerly returned.

Mary was still not convinced, regarding her new companions with suspicious eyes. Sensing her trepidation, Thorfinn marched over to her, before dramatically plunging his sword into the ground and falling to one knee.

“Is he about to propose?” asked a confused Isaac.

“Mary,” Thorfinn began, a mournful tone in his voice, “I understand we have come here as adversaries, but you must know we have only intruded on your lands to rescue our friend Crash. If you shall forgive us this trespass and return with us to our home, you have my word, as a proud warrior, that no harm shall come to you.”

Mary thought on his words for a minute. “Alrights then.” A small cheer went up from the Button House ghosts, save for Thomas.

“Just like that?” Thomas shouted, clearly offended. “Just a moment ago you literally accused him of being a servant of the devil! Am I the only one who remembers that he tried to cut our dear Alison in twain not but five minutes ago?!” Mary simply shrugged in response.

“That settles it then!” declared a pleased Allison. “Let’s go and see this portal wall then!”

Soon the entire group was moving back toward the house. A proud Pete pulled Thorfinn aside. “Way to go and use those words Thor my man! I’m so proud of you solving your problems with something other than violence!” He patted a merry Thorfinn on the back.

“Thank you Pete. To be honest first instinct was simply to kidnap group and cleave those who refused, but Thor realise that not the right way.”

“Oh,” responded Pete, somewhat less enthusiastically, “well, still, way to use words!”

“For kidnap to be effective we need more warriors, could not risk being outflanked by superior numbers.”

“I get the picture Thor, thanks.”

Soon the group was stood in front of the unassuming wall.

“This is it?” asked an underwhelmed Mike.

“Makes sense,” added Alison. “We never come up here. I think the only thing up here is Robin’s room?”

“That why me pick it. Like peace and quiet.”

“Do we have to do anything?” Mike continued, “Like do we have say some magic words or something?”

“Not super loving Mike’s attitude here,” said an offended Pete, “but no, all we gotta do is walk through it and we should be in Woodstone Manor. At least I hope so. Did we even check if this thing works both ways?”

“Pete you better hope I don’t end up stuck here!” warned Alberta. “You know I need my sunlight! I can’t live in a country that gets rain ninety percent of the year!”

“We saw Jay stumble back through when he fell into it, as I recall,” explained an impatient Isaac, “now are we going or not? I fear I won’t make it back in time for my stories and I know Nigel will start without me.”

Alison looked over the assembled Button House ghosts. “Are we all ready guys?”

“Are we all packed? Nobody needs the loo? Everyone got their passports?” asked Pat, having shifted into holiday mode.

“Pat, you know you don’t need any of-”

“Just let me have this one, Alison,” he whispered.

There was a chorus of nods and affirmative grunts. Alison took Mike’s hand. “Lead on then Pete.” With that, the group began to march through the wall.

Chapter Text

The Button House ghosts marched through the wall, all of them immediately taken in by the humble styling of Woodstone Manor. A chorus of impressed whistles and considered hums rang out as the ghosts looked around.

“Well I’ll be!” exclaimed an excited Pat, “this place looks cracking! Reminds me of the sort of places me and Carol used to go to, before we had the little ‘un.”

“Oh yes,” agreed Mary. “’Tis a much nicer stead than ours. None offence of course, Alison.”

“Some taken, Mary.” retorted Alison, more hurt than she’d care to admit.

“Pay them no mind, Alison,” offered an uncharacteristically caring Fanny. “I imagine they’re simply so taken with this place because it’s the first time they’ve seen another house in some time.”

“Thanks Fanny,” Alison replied, “that actually means a lot coming from you-”

“Although,” continued Fanny, “perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing if seeing this inspired you to finally get around to revitalising Button House a tad, if just to spare us the shame of having visitors see how run down it is.” Alison glared at Fanny, silently seething.

At the other end of the corridor, Sam, Jay and the remaining Woodstone ghosts noticed the slew of unfamiliar emerging from the wall, and ran over to make their acquaintance.

“Oh my gosh!” exclaimed Sam. “New faces! And so many of them!”

“So cool!” agreed Flower. “So you guys can see all of these dudes too? I’m not just tripping again?”

“Indeed we can.” murmured Hetty. “Just what my house needed. Another assortment of oddly dressed ne'er-do-wells.”

Sam stuck an eager hand out toward Alison. “Hi there! I’m Sam! So pleased to meet you!”

Alison took her hand, causing Sam to let out a surprised shout. “Agh! You’re still alive!”

Alison pulled her hand back in alarm. “Yeah, last time I checked. Alison, by the way.”

Sam, realising what she’d done, began to back-peddle. “Sorry! It’s just, with the way all of your friends were dressed, I just assumed you guys were all… well, ghosts.”

Alison smiled, charmed by her new hosts embarrassment. “Oh no, they all are. It’s just me and Mike here who are still breathing.”

Mike nodded and gave out a quick “Alright?”

“I’m Jay,” he said, stepping forward to shake both Alison and Mike’s hands. “I hope your trip… through the wall was, uh… pleasant, I guess?”

Sam furrowed her brow. “Wait a minute. You said you guys are still alive, which must be true, because Jay can see you-”

“Which feels so good, by the way” added Jay.

“-but I just saw you talking to all of those ghosts there. Which must mean…” Sam’s eyes began to well up with the realisation. Alison found herself getting misty eyed too.
“Your friends, Pete and Alberta were telling me,” started Alison, “that they knew someone who could see ghosts. Like me.”

Jay’s eyes went wide. “No way! You see the ghosts too!” He looked at Mike. “And can you?”

Mike shook his head. “Nah mate. I just hear about them from Alison. Sometimes they move stuff about. Weird smells. That sort of thing.”

“Ever get one visit you in your dreams?” asked Jay?

“What?” asked an alarmed Mike. “Can they do that?”

Sam threw her arms around Alison, pulling her in for a hug. Alison, at first surprised, eventually let her hands rest on Sam’s back.

The two groups of ghosts were still gathered at opposite ends of the corridor, neither wanting to be the first to relent.

“Good heavens,” said the Captain, watching the two women hug, “seems as though Alison’s had no trouble entering in to unfamiliar ranks.”

“D’ye we should go over?” asked a nervous Pat. “Introduce ourselves and all that?”

“Oh yes, I think we should!” exclaimed Kitty, almost vibrating with excitement.

“Hang on!” said Julian. “That’s a rookie mistake, making the first leap. We simply wait, make them come to us. It’s a power move. Honestly, didn’t any of you go to a school disco?”

“I didn’ts go to school.” chirped Mary.

At the other end of the corridor, the Woodstone ghosts were equally as suspicious.

“They seem groovy. I think we should go over.” suggested Flower.

“For all we know it could be a collection of delinquents and degenerates,” countered Hatty. “Good gracious, one them isn’t even wearing pants!”

“And what’s wrong with that?” asked an indignant Trevor. “Besides,” he continued, “if we go over to them now we lose the advantage. Take it from a successful stockbroker; we make ‘em come to us.”

The stalemate was broken when Isaac, Alberta, Thorfinn and Pete finally emerged through the wall, with Thorfinn dragging Crash’s uncooperative body along with them. “What are we doing stuck on this wall like a fancy painting?” joked Pete. “You gotta meet the rest of the gang! Hey Sam!”

Sam, still lost in conversation with Alison, jolted at the sound of her name. “Pete! You found Crash’s body! I knew I could count on you. Can someone please go get the rest of Crash?”

“I left him on a chair.” replied Sasappis. “I’m going to assume he’s still there, considering I can literally see his legs right now. I’ll get him.”

Sam nodded, before shooting a wave at all of the Button House ghosts. She turned to Alison. “So I’m thinking we reunite the two parts of Crash, then we all gather in the living room for introductions? If that’s okay with you of course?”

Alison nodded, impressed by Sam’s seemingly boundless enthusiasm. “Sounds good. I’ll be honest, this is the first time I’ve emerged from a wall with a bunch of ghosts, so, y’know, it’s all a bit new to me.”

Sasappis returned, the head of Crash under his arm. Crash’s face lit up at the sight of his body. “There yer are, ya headless palooka! Thanks for getting him back for me, guys. I hope he wasn’t no trouble.”

Alberta waved down the idea. “Just had to leap through a magic portal to another continent and confront a bunch of new ghosts in a daring attempt to rescue your body. All in a day's work!”

“Although,” interjected Isaac, “some thanks would be appreciated.”

Sam, worried at the mention of a daring rescue, looked at Alison with a glance of grave concern. “Oh no, they didn’t cause you any trouble, did they? Honestly, if I had known the house was inhabited I would have just come through myself.”

Alison shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. No harm, no foul.”

“I wouldn’t say no foul,” said an indignant Thomas, sauntering up to the two women. “Thomas Thorne, at your service,” he quickly introduced himself, bowing as he did so. “As a matter of fact, your monstrous Viking cohort attempted to end dear Alison’s life with a strike of his vile blade!”

Sam turned to Thorfinn with an annoyed look. “Thorfinn! How could you?”

Thorfinn looked to the floor sheepishly. “Apologies Sam. Thor been out of game too long, not used to delicious rush of violent combat. May have got a little too excited.”

“Honestly Sam, don’t worry about it.” Alison reassured. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a run in with a ghost. Although it might be the first time one of them has tried to kill me.” Elsewhere, a nervous Julian did his best not to make contact with her. “Have to say Sam, I absolutely love this place. It’s so nice!”

“If you think this corridor is nice, wait until you see the rest of the place!” replied a proud Sam. “Actually, shall we? After we get all of our ghosts introduced to each other, I can give you a little tour, if you’d like?”

“I’d love that,” said Alison. “I saw some photos on my phone earlier but it looks even better in person.”

“Oh, you saw the site?” asked Jay. “Everything still working on there right, no problems?” he asked, his eyes darting between Alison and Mike nervously.

“Yeah man,” replied a confused Mike. “Looks pretty good.”

“Yeah, really professional.” concurred Alison.

“Oh thank god,” said a relieved Jay. “We used to have this guy, Freddie, who set the whole thing up.”

“He quit because he was convinced the place was haunted.” said Sam, flanked on all sides by ghosts.

“And now I live in constant fear that the site’s going to break and I won’t be able to fix it and then we won’t get any bookings and then we’ll run out of money and become homeless.” explained Jay, breathlessly. Mike and Alison nodded, both of them all too familiar with the stress of trying to run a hotel.

“But enough of our constant worries,” said Sam, the joy back in her voice. “I’ll herd my ghosts, you grab yours, and I’ll show the way to the living room?”

“Lead on.” said Alison, before turning to the Button House ghosts and waving them all over. Sam likewise did the same, and soon both groups were assembled in the living room.

-----

The living room was soon abuzz with voices, with ghosts from both houses introducing themselves to one another.

“Hey man,” said Trevor, approaching Julian, “names Trevor. Nice to see someone else rocking the no-pants thing.”

“They’ll never appreciate how airy it gets down there.” replied Julian, nodding toward the other ghosts. “Julian Fawcett, MP. So how’d you lose yours?”

“Oh, it’s a whole big thing,” Trevor began to explain. “Me and some bros were up getting our drink on, they were gonna haze this guy, make him run all over town in sub-zero temps with no pants and no cash. If I hadn’t given him mine he’d have ended up some kind of pantless dude-cicle picked up by the cops.”

“Wow, noble.”

“What about you man? You do something similar?” asked Trevor.

“I’m afraid mine is a little less heroic. Bad mix of a young colleague and a weary heart.” Julian offered.

“Aw dude, that sucks. What happened, did she break up with you or something? Died of a broken heart?” inquired Trevor.

“God no,” retorted Julian with a chuckle. “Tried to get too adventurous with the positions – went straight from the Peruvian Press into the Duck and Dangle without so much as a pit stop. Combine that with all the marching powder and the free booze…” Julian let out a nostalgic sigh. “Still, there’s definitely worse ways to go eh? Now, if you’ll excuse me, If off to try my chances with the hippy chick over there.”

With that, Trevor was left to watch him walk away, just as Sasappis made his way over.

“So, how’s the other pantless guy?” asked Sasappis.

“Sass, that might be the coolest dude I’ve ever met. I think he might be my new hero.” replied Trevor.

------

The Captain gave Isaac a salute, which Isaac somewhat gingerly returned. “Ten four!” began the Captain, clicking his heels together. “Good to see another military man in the field! Isaac wasn’t it?”

“Correct. And I believe you said it was Captain…?” asked Isaac.

“Affirmative,” replied the Captain, to Isaac’s slight confusion. “I understand you and I technically served on opposite sides, so to speak, but I hope that won’t dampen any potential connections.”

“Oh, that’s all water under the bridge now.” replied Isaac. “I think inventing Downton Abbey makes up for a couple of unjust taxes.”

“Quite.” nodded the Captain. “I assume you were stationed here? I’ve done some reading on the Revolutionary War – quite a bloody brutal war to have gone out in. Although fair play, you seem to have at least died in one piece.”

“Oh yes,” replied Isaac, quite unconvincingly. “That’s me all right. Real ‘rough and tumble’ type stuff. Although, I must admit, it was worth it to have met Nigel.”

“Nigel?” asked the Captain. “Sounds like a rather English name for someone on your side?”

“Well observed, my English friend,” said Isaac, wistfully. “Isaac and I were once on opposite sides of the war.”

“And how did you two meet?” asked the Captain.

“Oh, I shot him with a rifle. Straight through the heart.” explained Isaac, never losing his wistful tone.

“Aha.” muttered the Captain. “And how did you go out? Another war injury?”

Isaac contemplated telling the Captain of his actual fate, but decided against it if just for the moment. “Yes,” he lied. “War injury. And you?”

The Captain turned and stared out to the middle distance. He thought of Havers. He pressed his hand to his chest. “Just like your friend Nigel. Straight through the heart.”

Even Isaac, having known the Captain for a short while, could sense there was something on the Captain’s mind, and decided to veer away from the subject. “Well, I just have to get you all together with Nigel. He’s going to over the moon to discover that his place is overrun with the British for the first time in a few hundred years.”

The Captain, realising how he was carrying himself, did his best to hold back his emotions while straightening his uniform. “I can’t wait to meet him,” offered the Captain, “you speak so highly of him. You know, for a fellow you shot.”

“He was rather upset about it when he found out, I will admit.” said Isaac. “But now we look back on it less as one soldier killing another and more like an elaborate meet cute.”

“Meet… cute?”

“Sam taught me the term – she got it from one of her Hallmark movies. Basically, when a couple meets under bad circumstances but eventually falls for one another.”

“A couple of what, if you would?” asked the Captain.

“You know,” explained an incredulous Isaac. “A couple. A romantic pair. Nigel and I are…” Isaac began crossing his fingers over each other to demonstrate. “We’re together.”

The Captain immediately became flustered. “You mean… two men… I should think… not for me… not that… um… perhaps I should…”

“Are you quite alright?” asked Isaac. “Is everything okay.” The Captain, his face now bright red, mumbled an excuse and headed toward the crowd.

-----

“And the tricks is to make the basket at leasts three potatoes high.” Mary finished explaining to an enraptured Flower and Pete.

“Gee whiz Mary,” said an impressed Pete, “I thought I was a pretty handy guy myself, but I can barely hold a candle to you!”

Mary seized up slightly, letting out a faint black smoke. “And whys would be holdin’ a candle up to me? Far too dangerous!”

“I’m sorry Mary,” apologised Pete, sensing he’d stepped over a line. “And as a Scout Master I appreciate someone who’s as serious about fire safety as I am!” Mary cracked a smile upon hearing that Pete seemed to share her fear of fire.

“Gotta say Mary,” started Flower, “between the crops and the fishing and sewing and the weaving, we could have really used someone like you in the commune.”

“And what’s that then?” asked a curious Mary.

“It’s kinda hard to define, really,” attempted Flower. “Like imagine a bunch of friends, all kind of hanging out together, everyone sort of looking out for each other. Oh, and there’s a lot of drug taking and casual sex. Actually, like now I think about it was mostly about the last two with the occasional bank robbery so we could afford food and stuff.”

Mary began to gently shake her head. “Oh gosh. Nots for me, thanking you very much.”

“Yeah, agreed Flower, “turns out it’s actually really hard to grow your own crops man, when everybody’s tripped out all the time. Makes the bank robberies way easy though. Way less guilt if you think everyone in the joint is actually a dragon.”

“Just how did you learn to be so self-sufficient?” asked Pete, eager to steer away from the well-worn topic of Flower and her bank robbery.

“’Twas just the way of things backs then,” Mary explained. “Hads to learn to does it or it doesn’t get done. We’s all lived off the land – eats what you catch and grow, clean yourselves in the river, that sorts of a thing.”

Flower lazily nodded, while Pete seemed enthralled. “What a way to live, Mary,” he said. “Sounds like an outdoorsman’s paradise.”

“Well yes,” countered Mary, “although I reckons life back then twas ‘arder. What I would have given for one of those fancy insides toilets. And to not have lost so many of the village come each winter. And of course, there was the poor little ones.”

“Feels like this is taking a dark turn.” stuttered a nervous Pete.

“So like, you never got to use a flushing toilet?” asked an aghast Flower.

“Nevers,” replied Mary. “I’ve seens them since, of course. When Mike’s in there.”

Flower pulled Mary into a deep embrace. “You’re so strong Mary. I just, like, want you know that.” Flower said, barely holding back tears. Mary shot Pete a confused look, and he could only a baffled shrug in response.

-----

“Kitty,” shouted an eager Pat, “over ‘ere. Alberta was just tellin’ me that she’s a jazz singer!”

“Oh, are you a singer too?” Alberta asked Kitty. “It’d be good to hang out with a real musician again. I once tried to talk to Hetty about the blues and she spent the rest of the day asking me if I was holding.”

“Oh heavens, yes! I love to sing!” exclaimed a delighted Kitty. “Although not professionally, I must admit, but Alison sometimes tells me that I’d be great at karaoke, whatever that is. I think it’s Japanese?”

“Well alright then!” proclaimed Alberta. “You got a favourite singer? Band? You know, I once got drunk with Bessie Smith. I’m pretty sure she was trying to get me upstairs, if you know what I mean, but still!”

Kitty nodded excitedly, despite the fact she did not know what Alberta meant. “Well,” Kitty began, “I like Girls Aloud. And Sugababes. Have you ever heard of S Club 7?”

“Is that some kind of jazz band?” asked Alberta.

“In a sense?” replied an unsure Pat.

“What about you, Pat,” asked Alberta. “You look like a man who can carry a tune.”

Pat shook his head humbly. “Oh no, I’m a merely an avid listener. Played me Chas and Dave CD until it wore out. It used t’be the soundtrack from an Officer and a Gentleman but I kept getting too emotional whenever Love Lift Us Up came on. Ended up in tears during the school run.”

“Do you like to dance Alberta?” asked a frantic Kitty. “Me and Pat are excellent at it!” Pat glanced around nervously.

“Oh honey,” Alberta started, “dancing is something I leave for the background girls. But you and Pat throwing out some moves? That I gotta see.”

“Maybe later, eh Kitty?” Pleaded Pat.

“Obviously Pat!” Kitty replied. “There’s nowhere near enough room in here.!” Pat sighed with relief. “But I heard Sam saying there was a ballroom…”

-----

Jay glanced across the couch, where Mike sat. Both were enjoying the company of another living person, both finally free of the weight of having to have their already stressed wives explain to them the comings and goings of the restless dead.

“You play a mean game of Smash Bros, brother,” said an overjoyed Jay. “You think you can bring the same kind of magic to a couple of rounds of Mario Kart?”

“Only one way to find out!” grinned an eager Mike.

The men sat in quiet contentment.

“This is nice,” said Mike.

“Yeah. It is.” agreed Jay.

-----

“Did you lose your head in glorious battle?” asked Thorfinn, genuinely curious.

“Not really,” replied Humphrey curtly. “Although I suppose I was technically involved in a plot to kill the Queen.”

“AHA!” boomed Thorfinn. “Thor involved in many executions of kings and queens. Many tribe leaders lose their lives to my mighty blade! Tell me, did your crew mates ever succeed in killing this tyrant monarch?”

“Good question, actually,” said Humphrey, who was just now realising he’d never bothered to ask any of his ghostly friends what had happened to good old Elizabeth. “Oi, Robin! C’mere!”

Robin soon sauntered over. “Yeah?”

“I know I’m asking the worst person possible here, but I don’t suppose you’d know whatever happened to Elizabeth the First?”

“Died of lead poisoning in sixties.” explained Robin. “Saw it on telly before ep of Mastermind.”

“Well that’s a kick in the stump.” sighed Humphrey.

“How can a man die for a cause he so uninterested in he never asks about it again?” asked Thorfinn. “I have killed many, many men, but never for no reason.”

“Same reason any man loses his head, my Viking friend.” Humphrey retorted. “For the love of a woman.” Robin and Thorfinn nodded in deep understanding.

“What was her name?” asked Thorfinn, his voice low and humble.

“Sophie.” Humphrey replied softly.

“Beautiful name.” the Viking hummed. “You must have loved her, to have given life for her.”

“Least I could have done, frankly,” explained Humphrey. “She’d been shackled with me since we were kids. We barely spoke the same language. But still, sometimes I felt something close to love for her. Like to tell myself she might have done the same.”

“She did.” grunted Robin. Humphrey shot him a small smile as thanks.

“What about you, Thor?” asked Humphrey, eager to deflect from his own feelings. “Was there ever a missus giant Viking warrior?”

Thorfinn grinned at what he perceived to be a compliment. “Olga. She was fierce warrior. Best fighter in village. Kind eyes. Warm heart.”

“Sound like some woman.” agreed Robin.

Thorfinn nodded. “Many times Thorfinn wish he could see her face again. Just once.”

“You forget it?” asked Robin. Thorfinn once again nodded. “Happen to me to,” Robin continued. “Back then we not do the whole moh-nog-mee thing, of course. Everyone do it with everyone, make things simple. But there always one who like do it with most. Like do hunts with most. Paint caves with things you do.”

The three men fell silent for a moment.

“What was her name? Your special friend?” Humphrey asked.

“Can’t ‘member now,” replied a dejected Robin. “So long go now, not see they face. Think they name. Lost to time.”

Again, the men fell silent.

“Still, not so bad,” offered Robin. “That good thing about being ghost. People go, they leave. But then...” he looked across the room, enjoying the sight of Mary deep into an explanation of basket weaving. “new people come long. Night pass. Day break.”

Thorfinn locked eyes with Flower, who gave him a quick wave. “Indeed,” he agreed, “always best to forward toward the light.”

Humphrey glanced over at Fanny. He scrunched his face up. “Whatever you say, gents.”

-----

“I of course don’t mean to brag,” bragged Thomas, “but since my tragic demise; I heroically perished defending a woman’s honour, if you absolutely must know-”

“I don’t recall asking.” said Hetty, curtly.

“I have heard myself described as perhaps Britain’s most underrated poet,” continued Thomas, obliviously.

“Most peculiar,” said Hetty. “I can recall my mother often singing the praises of the regency poets. You of course know the canonical greats; Keats, Shelley, Byron. But I must confess I am struggling to remember her ever waxing lyrical about any of your works.”

Thomas’ expression and mood darkened considerably. “Perhaps your mother was less well read than you remember.”

Hetty shook her head. “You misunderstand. It is not my mother’s credentials I am questioning here.”

Thomas did his best to hold back his emotions. “You wound me madam. If you would excuse me for a moment…” He fled the conversation with haste, barely avoiding Fanny as she made her way over.

“Nicely handled.” said Fanny complimentary. “It is ever so nice to see another woman who refuses to suffer the tiresome foolishness of those around her. Lady Stephanie Button, how do you do?”

“Henrietta Woodstone,” Hetty replied. “Charmed. My apologies for the state of the house. Doubly so for the state of the inhabitants. Dear lord do I miss the days where the only people of low culture in this house were people who worked for me. The ability to put them out on the street really takes the spark out of them.”

Fanny nodded in terse agreement. “And the way these modern hooligans present themselves! I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve caught Alison dressed in overalls. Overalls! Like some kind of common gardener.”

“Your poet friend is rather infatuated with her, overalls and all.” said Hetty. “In the rare moments he wasn’t talking about his own, I assume fabricated, achievements, he was declaring his undying love for her. If his endless squawking is this tiresome after mere minutes I can only imagine the sensation of living with it.”

Fanny scoffed. “To defend Alison, she views Thomas affections much the way one might a particularly irksome rash – grievously unwanted and almost impossible to rid oneself of.”

Hetty smirked at the remark.

Across the room, Sam and Alison were delighted at the sight of the two groups of ghosts so taken with each other.

“Aw look,” exclaimed Sam, “they’re all getting on so well!”

Alison nodded, equal parts surprised and satisfied. “Yeah, I have to admit I was a bit nervous letting them mingle like this. Like it’s one thing for me to put up with them, I’m used to it.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Sam. “Sometimes it’s like, I don’t know…”

“Having a bunch of unruly kids?” offered Alison.

“Yes!” exclaimed Sam. “But like, a bunch of kids that are all adults. And only you can see?”

Alison laughed. “Tell me about it. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve been talking to them only to find out there’s other people in the room. I must look like an absolute psycho!”

Sam was lost in her own laughter. “Oh god! I’m pretty sure most the construction guys were totally avoiding me by the time they were done. The weirdo with the neck brace and the voices only she can hear.”

“I’ll do you one better,” said Alison, jokingly putting her head in her hands. “I once threw something at Julian and almost took out a guy fixing our house!”

“You didn’t!”

“Worst part was I was trying to get him to give us a discount. Pretty sure he doubled the quote then and there.”

The two women fell about in a fit of giggles, each of both equally as glad to have found the other.

The celebration was suddenly cut short when Sam heard a loud set of stomps from upstairs. Her laughter stopped as her eyes were locked on the ceiling. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Alison.

“It's Stephanie.”

Chapter Text

“Who’s Stephanie?” asked a curious Alison.

“She’s… a lot.” replied a nervous Sam.

“She’s a bit of an odd ghost out, so to speak,” offered Pete, making his way over to the two women. “She sleeps for most of the year, gets up around April and causes a whole host of havoc. Classic moody teenager stuff.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me, back when I was younger.” said Alison.

“She’s fun!” lied Pete. “Ya know, in her own way. In small doses.”

“Major disagree,” insisted Trevor, “Every year I basically have to hide when she wakes up.”

“Scared of the unstoppable wrath of one foul-mouthed teenager?” chided Humphrey.

“As if!” fired back an indignant Trevor, “The problem is that she’s obsessed with me. Don’t get me wrong, T-bone likes a little sizzle, if ya catch my drift. But Steph died while she was still in high school. That’s a line you don’t cross.”

Any chance of further explanation ended when Stephanie stormed down the stairs. “What is going on down here!” she screamed, “some of us are trying to slee-” Her outburst was cut short when she finally took notice of the mass of new faces that had interrupted her slumber. “What the hell is this? Are you renting this place out for some kind of nerd convention? Are you putting on a production of ‘History’s Biggest Dorks’?”

“Is she always that unpleasant?” asked the Captain.

“Oh yeah, almost all the time.” replied Flower.

Stephanie stopped in her tracks, taken aback that the newcomers could seemingly see her, and talk to her co-ghosts. “Hold on, you goobers are all ghosts? What happened, was there an outbreak at the jerk club?”

“Right, that is a tad ‘urtful.” said a wounded Pat.

“Actually, I’m not a ghost,” offered Alison, trying to be polite. “Hi there, I’m Alison. Pleased to meet you!”

Stephanie looked between Sam and Alison, a look of palpable disgust in her eyes. “Oh, this is perfect. Now there are two of you? I thought one of you was bad enough, but now there are two of you dung breaths ruining my life?”

Before Alison could defend herself, Thomas had leapt into action, a look of real rage on his face. “Hawd yer weesh, thine crabbit bairn! I cannot speak for Sam, but I cannot allow to besmirch my dear Alison! Even as a poet of exquisite ability and tremendous renown-”

Some of the Button House ghosts began to shake their heads.

“- I find often I lack the words myself to describe her endless beauty. Oh how my heart yearns to partake of he-”

“So you’re a poet?” interrupted Stephanie. “My old boyfriend, Tad, was a writer. He used to leave me all these romantic notes. Although, he wasn’t half as hot as you...”

Thomas’ face fell. “Oh no.”

Trevor’s face lit up. “Thank god.”

“So are you and Alison, like, super serious?” asked Stephanie hopefully. A nervous Thomas looked at Alison, desperate for her to back him up.

“No actually,” said Alison, sensing a chance for some payback. “I’m actually here with husband, Mike, as well as Thomas knows, seeing as how he’s lived with us for a few years now. So don’t let me stand in your way.”

Stephanie descended the remaining stairs and made her way over to Thomas, who at this point was as backed against the wall as his ghostly status would allow.

“So you’re single?” asked Stephanie, a predatory tone in her voice. Across the room, Trevor and Sasappis high-fived, much to Thomas’ annoyance.

“Well, um, as a poet,” Thomas blustered, “I actually find that tying oneself down to a relationship, hmm, might harm the quality of the work, so to speak.”

Stephanie was unconvinced. “I could be like, your muse, or something. You can write love poems or whatever while we get freaky.” Thomas began to gag.

“Good grief!” announced Fanny, marching over to the pair hurriedly. “Young lady, that is quite enough! I thought it was bad enough having to listen to the way Alison speaks, but this is quite another thing entirely!”

Stephanie looked at Fanny with an unimpressed sneer. “Cool it grandma. Keep your nose out of my biz!” she shot, before turning back to Thomas.

The Button House ghosts looked away, sensing the oncoming storm. “Oh lord.” muttered Pat. Fanny took a moment, quietly gathering her thoughts, before once again addressing Stephanie.

“My dear, I have had the undesirable misfortune of putting up with some truly wretched women in my time. I once spent an evening with the Duchess of Edinburgh, whom I found to be slovenly and uncouth. My late husband George once convinced me to converse with an American for an extended period of time. And Alison, my goodness, just look at her-”

“Thanks Fanny!” said Alison, defeated.

“-but regardless,” Fanny continued, “up until now I had imagined that those points represented the nadir of womanhood. However, I now realise that those encounters were but child’s play in comparison to yourself, Stephanie. You have the mouth of a sailor, the mind of a godless bohemian and the dress sense of a circus clown. By the lord, have some respect for yourself, young lady. I can think of nothing I could say that would be more embarrassing than pining this wantonly for Thomas of all people. For your sake, I sincerely hope this represents a low point for the pair of us.”

The entire room went silent. Stephanie began to blabber, attempting to formulate a cutting response but coming up disastrously short. Even Thomas and Trevor, the victims of Stephanie’s unwanted affections, looked hurt on her behalf.

Eventually, Stephanie, fighting back actual tears, made her way back toward the stairwell. “Okay, good meeting you guys,” she said, fooling no-one, “if anyone needs me, I’ll be in the attic, crying my eyes out.” She flashed Thomas the sign for ‘call me,’ mouthing the words to him, before dramatically rushing away.

“Thank you, Fanny.” muttered Thomas, his eyes toward the floor.

“Oh. My. God.” said an impressed Sam, “that was amazing.”

“Yeah,” agreed Alison, “if Fanny has one superpower, it’s being extremely cutting. If anything it was nice to see her use it for good, for a change.”

“I thoughts her power was being seen in one of thems newfangled photographs?” asked Mary.

“Oh, you have ghost powers too?” asked Alberta.

“Some us do.” explained Robin. “Captain and Pat not though.”

“I like to think that my leadership is a superpower in and of itself.” declared the Captain, attempting to save face.

“Is it though?” asked Sasappis. “Entering people’s dreams, harnessing electricity, those are real powers. I think leadership is more of an endearing quality.”

“Some of us are blessed with both…” said Isaac.

“You can harness electricity?” Julian asked.

“It isn’t important who can harness what or who has what power...” Isaac sputtered, eager to change the subject.

“I can totally make the living trip out if they walk through me!” said Flower, oblivious to Isaac’s discomfort.

“I’ve got the magic touch,” said a proud Julian, holding his pointer finger aloft. “Can use this bad boy to move stuff about. Comes in real handy, I can tell you.”

“Holy crap, me too!” Trevor added, excited to have another thing in common with his new idol.

“Mine is really more of a blessing for the living,” Alberta started, “because not even death itself can stop my voice from being heard!” She paused for dramatic effect.

“We used to have a little girl who could do the same!” said Kitty, clapping away.

“Used to?” asked Hetty. “What happened, did she leave or something? Typical child, always so lazy. First they want a break every twelve hours, then they want guard rails over the smelting pits. When does it end?”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” explained Alison, “she just, y’know, moved on.”

“You mean she get sucked off?” asked Thorfinn.

“Okay, no!” shouted Sam, “you can not call it that when we’re talking about a child, even if she was a ghost!” She turned to Alison, her face turning red with embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, our ghosts have this thing where sometimes they move on, and for some reason they call it being… sucked off.”

Alison had to laugh at Sam’s apology. “Sam, you’re not going to believe this… but no joke, that’s what our ghosts call it too.”

Sam pulled her face from behind her hands. “Seriously?” she asked, incredulously. “What are the chances?”

Alison shot a look at Julian. “With my lot, pretty high actually.” she sighed.

Trevor followed her eyeline to the pantless politician, and raised his hand up for a high five. “Nice one bro!” he said, a lecherous smile on his face. “getting them to call it ‘sucked off’? Totally my idea! I’m guessing that was you?”

Julian looked at Trevor’s raised hand with a bemused smile. “As much as I’d love to take the credit, that was all Mary’s idea. Never actually thought as to where she’d heard it before though.”

Trevor furrowed his brow, surprised that Mary was seemingly so on his wavelength. Still, he thought, he had to respect it, walking over and allowing Mary to sheepishly return the high five.

Jay and Mike appeared at the top of the stairs, both wearing concerned expressions. “Everything okay Sam?” asked Jay. “I heard you shouting something about a ghost child? Have we got another new arrival I should be worried about?”

Sam waved up as the pair climbed down the stairs. “Everything’s fine Jay,” she reassured him. “Had a run in with Stephanie but one of our new friends dealt with it like a champ!”

Jay seemed pleased with the news; “One of the new ghosts knows how to deal with the psycho in the attic? This day keeps getting better and better!”

Mike rejoined his wife, giving her shoulder a reassuring rub. “So,” he asked, “what did I miss?”

“Uh, not much,” replied Alison, “there’s a ghost that sleeps in the loft here, she seems a nightmare. Oh, and it turns out all the ghosts here call moving on getting sucked off as well.” Mike nodded, taking in the information.

“Do the ghosts sleep?” Mike asked, genuinely curious. “I kinda thought that was just for the living.”

“Why do you think they’re all so worked up about rooms they get?” asked Alison in reply.

“I dunno,” Mike said, his voice heavy with new realisations. “Privacy maybe? Suppose I’ve never really thought about it. Do they have dreams and that? Can ghosts have nightmares?”

“I feel like I’m stuck in one now, listening to this inane chatter.” sniped Hetty.

“Hetty’s just feeling bitter because she doesn’t have a power of her own.” said Isaac.

“Oh yes, how I envy your fabulous ability to stink up a room whenever someone stumbles through you. However shall I manage?” She shot back.

Isaac turned beet red, although Mary’s face had lit up. “That be mines too!” she proudly exclaimed. “Did you meet your ends in a fire as well?” she asked Isaac, the delight in her voice a major contrast to the worry in his.

“No, I didn’t.” he curtly replied. “I was instead struck down by a horrible malady, one which claimed the lives of many good men-”

“He pooped himself to death.” an amused Sasappis cut in.

“Nasty way t’go.” Pat said.

“Are there any other ghosts in the house?” asked Alison, attempting to change the subject.

“Yes!” said Sam, also eager to save some of Isaac’s wounded pride, “turns out, before the manor was built, they used the site for some kind of containment zone for people with cholera, so we’ve got a bunch of them in the basement. They keep mostly to themselves-”

“Thankfully.” interrupted Hetty.

“-but I can introduce you later if you’d like!” Sam finished.

“No way!” said a delighted Mike, “we’ve got a squad in our downstairs that died of the plague. Or so Alison tells me.”

“Yeah, we do,” Alison agreed. “Kind of horrible when you think about it, all these big houses having mass graves underneath them.”

“You said it,” said Jay. “I try not to think about it or else I end up with a weird sort of depression. You don’t realise how many places are haunted until your wife develops the ability to talk to the folks doing the haunting.”

Sam nodded. “Really takes the charm out of big city living when every street is swamped with people talking to you about their murder.” She said, with a small shake. “Last week, Jay and I tried to go out for dinner and I almost gave my order to a waiter who had choked to death on his break.”

“That’s awful!” said Alison.

“Actually,” said Jay, “the guy recommended we try the Nayma Choma and it was awesome. Turns out dying in a kitchen gives you unreal insight in to what to order. Speaking of, don’t suppose we could convince you guys to stay for dinner?”

“Well,” said Alison, “obviously we’d have to check if we have the time, you know, with the B’n’B and that…”

Mike seemed confused. “Yeah babe, we don’t have anyone booked for at least two weeks-” Alison promptly cut him off by elbowing him in the ribs.

“Oh please Alison,” pleaded Kitty, “can we stay? Oh can’t we please? Just for a while?”

“Have to admit Alison,” said Pat, “I ‘ave missed travelling just a smidge. What’s the ‘arm?”

“Thorfinn agree,” Thorfinn agreed. “Will be good to have new blood in house.”

“We have the rooms,” said Sam, trying to contain her eagerness. “We were booked out all week for some crypto convention, but they all cancelled last minute.”

“What happened?” asked Mike.

“Turns out,” said Jay, “basing a week long party on money who’s value fluctuates widely might not be the best idea. I’m just glad Sam made them pay their deposits in cash.”

Sam nodded smugly. “We can give you two the deluxe suite,” she said. “That is, as long as your ghost friends are okay sharing?”

Kitty let out an excited scream. This was like all of her dreams were colliding at once.

“I call dibs on rooming with Julian!” shouted Trevor, a little louder than he intended.

“I kind of thought our new friends would kind of want to bunk with each other, Trev.” said Sam.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed The Captain. “Meeting a whole host of new men, why that was one of the best parts of being in the armed forces. Nothing bonds a couple of chaps like sharing a bed- I mean a room. A room.”

“We can have a sleepover!” proclaimed Kitty! “We can watch Clueless, and gossip about boys, and tell scary stories! Oh how wonderful!” Alberta and Flower couldn’t help but be drawn in to Kitty’s enthusiasm, the pair joining her in an excited chant of “SLEEPOVER! SLEEPOVER! SLEEPOVER!”

“I do think a change of scenery might just be what my work needs,” mused Thomas, “really get the creative juices flowing. Has anyone ever written a poem about the Americas? Already my mind is aflutter!”

“Would be nice to leave my head in some new places for a change, now we mention it,” said Humphrey, understatedly. “Pretty much seen Button House from every angle at this point.”

All eyes were now on Alison expectedly. “Oh, alright then,” she said, to cheers. “If anything comes up I suppose home is just… through the wall.”

“Now, I heard mention of a dinner?” asked a starving Mike.

“Are you a chef too man?” offered Jay.

“Amateur cook, pro-level eater.” explained Mike.

“That’s what I like to hear!” said an enthused Jay. “I got a couple of dishes I’m working on at the moment, if you wanna try them?”

Mike turned to Alison, a gleeful spark in his eye. “This might be one of the best days of my life,” he said, before quickly adding “you know, beside our wedding.”

“Good save Mike.” Allison chuckled.

Jay and Mike were off again, this time with a few of the ghosts in step. “You have got to smell J-man’s cooking,” explained Trevor, leading the pack. “Even when you can’t actually eat it you know this stuff rocks.” Julian, Hetty, Thomas and Sasappis all followed him out.

A concerned Pete made his way over to Fanny, eager to get her opinion on something. “Hey, Lady Button, was it? Peter Martino, pleasure to meet you.” He extended his hand warmly.

Fanny took his hand, pleased at his formality, something she sorely missed. “As much I appreciate being referred to by title, please call me Fanny. Everyone else does.”

“In that case, call me Pete. Listen, what do you know about Mike?”

Fanny pulled her features back further than usual, thinking hard. “Very little actually, now you raise the matter,” she said. “outside of him being Alison’s husband that is. Very hands on around the house but between you and I find the quality of his work lacking. If you’re looking for anything else I suggest you speak to Mary, from what I gather she’s always a fascination with him.”

Pete shot off over to Mary, eager to grill her. “Hey Mary, could I ask you something? About Mike?”

Mary began to blush, thinking of the many times she’d spied on him in the bath. “Of course!” she said, a little too eagerly.

“Do you know if Mike has a best friend?” asked Pete, to Mary’s mild surprise. “It’s just that me and Jay sort of have a kind of best bud situation going on, but now I’m a little worried that now he’s found another living to hang out with he’s going leave me out to dry. I mean it’s bad enough that Mark is always trying to steal him out from under me, but now he’s gotta another guy he can bond with about not seeing ghosts, gosh, how’s a dead scout to compete?”

Mary took a minute to process what Pete had told her. “Sometimes, Alison and Mike will go out for a night. I always assumes it was to maybe harvest the crops or attend church or the likes but Julian tells me its to go to summin’ called a ‘nightclub, whatevers that be.’ An’ sometimes, when they do, they brings back all these other folks and theys be up to all hours of the morning shouting and drinking and dancing and spending a whiles in the toilet. Anyways, theres an odd fellow, Obi I thinks, who Mike’s always hanging about with. I reckons he be the man you’re after.”

Pete let out a relieved sigh. “Oh Mary, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Thanks!” With that Pete took off, leaving a bemused Mary to wonder what had happened.

Meanwhile, Kitty was still reeling over the idea of having a sleepover, and was quizzing Alison, Sam and Flower on what one entailed, having only seen them in the films her and Alison often watched together.

“So, Sam,” Kitty asked, “did you go to many sleepovers when you were younger?”

“Uh, not really,” Sam said with a slight sadness. “I once went to hang out at this girl Jennifer Tobin’s house, and she put on this movie called Scream. I got so scared by the end of the first scene her mom had to drive me home. I was so troubled by it I wouldn’t answer the phone for weeks, although the fact I bailed on a sleepover less than an hour in meant I wasn’t getting many calls anyway.”

Kitty looked distressed even at hearing the story. “I don’t like scary movies either.”

“That’s an understatement,” agreed Alison. “She once saw Nightmare on Elm Street and spent the next few days sleeping in my room.”

“I never really got horror movies, man,” said Flower. “After you have a couple of really bad trips they stop seeming all that scary and all that ends up happening is your spiritual leader ends up mad at you for telling him he isn’t as hot as Vincent Price.”

“Spiritual leader?” asked Alison.

“It’s just something the guys in charge of the cults like to call themselves,” offered Flower. “Supreme Overlord, First Among All, Dearest Light, I’ve heard them all man. Don’t matter what they end up calling themselves, on a long enough time line they all end selling blow and doing everyone’s wives.”

“Well,” said Sam, “at least you’ll have a lot of boy stories to share at the sleepover!”

“What about you, Kitty Kat,” said Flower, putting her arm around Kitty, “did you ever have any sleepovers when you were a kid?”

“Oh, all the time,” mused Kitty. “my sister Eleanor and I-”

“Here we go.” muttered Alison, mostly to herself.

“-would stay up all night playing all kinds of fun games!”

“That sounds great,” offered Sam, oblivious to Alison attempting to subtly shake her head, “I was wanted a sister growing up.”

“It was wonderful,” said a blissfully ignorant Kitty, “sometimes we’d play pillow face; you know, where your sister puts a pillow on your head to see how long you can hold your breath? Sometimes Eleanor would pull fun pranks, like locking the door and keeping me outside in the rain. Other times we would simply stay up and talk about all things I had done wrong that day. You know, girl things!”

Flower and Sam were left dumbstruck with dawning horror at Kitty’s telling.

“Damn, Kitty, that was a total bummer.” said Flower, unsure of what else to offer.

Sam, ever the optimist, took another approach; “Well Kitty, all I know is that I can’t wait for our sleepover! I can promise you, based on what you’ve just told me, that it’ll be the best one either of us has ever been to!”

Kitty was almost overcome with joy. “Oh yes, I can’t wait! We’ll have so much fun! Do you think we should invite Fanny and Hetty?”

“Hetty’s not really a girls type of girl, if you catch my drift.” said Sam, trying to let Kitty down as gently as possible.

“Yeah man,” started Flower, “we’ve been trying to get her to open her mind for a while, but like, it’s slow progress. I’m pretty sure he considers a gathering of more than three women to still be a reportable crime.”

“I once tried to convince Fanny to share a room with Mary and accused me of being a sexual deviant.” offered Alison. “She also says the same every time she sees me in dungarees, now I bring it up.”

-----

Hetty, having returned from the kitchen, was watching the cavemen with intense scrutiny. The primitive specimen was currently amusing himself by making the lights flicker. She overheard him boast “hah! Still got it!” as he did so. Of all her new house guests, she felt that this one was perhaps the worst, almost a comedic exaggeration of all the things she despised in the living visitors; loud, dirty and brutish.

“Why you spy on Robin?” the caveman asked, breaking her from her daze.

“Excuse me?” she retorted.

“Why you watch me all time?” he asked again.

“I beg your pardon sir!” she huffed. “It is the duty of the lady of the house to keep her eye on her guests, so don’t flatter yourself.” She thought for a minute, and realised she may have been too harsh with the caveman. “Apologies. That was rude. Henrietta Woodstone. Robin, was it?”

“Well, old name was Rogh,” Robin grunted, “but go by Robin now. Sound nicer, me think.”

Hetty began to soften slightly. “I concur. Likewise, you can call me Hetty. I must say, even in my long afterlife, I never thought I’d get to talk to a genuine prehistoric man.”

“Yah, me been round for long time.” Robin agreed.

“Surely things must get awfully boring?” Hetty asked, choosing to try and get on with the caveman. “I’ve only been stuck in this house for a few hundred years and sometimes I feel like just facing each day is its own kind of torture.”

Robin nodded sagely. “Sometime is like that. Was ‘ard when when had only living for company. Lot of one way talking, that for sure! Worse thing was hav’ to watch people I know keep going. Not able to help. To talk.”

“Did you have a large family?” inquired Hetty. “Not to assume too much, but I do expect there was a lot of you running around.”

Robin let out a hollow chuckle. “Yeah, there loads of us. Big tribe is good tribe. But even then, all those, they die. And they not stay, not like me. And then for a while me alone.”

Hetty, despite her reservations, found herself drawn into Robin’s story. “It’s funny,” she explained, “all my life I was surrounded by legions of maids and servants and other workers, not that it counted for anything. Even when I was with my husband, laying in bed next to him, I still felt alone.”

Robin gazed at the woman, feeling an unexpected kinship her. “That what it was like when it was jus’ me and the living. You wan’ so bad to be part of their world. When they laugh and cry. But can’t.”

Hetty felt herself getting emotional and attempted to hold it back. “I must admit Robin,” she began, “I didn’t expect you to be this wise. L'habit ne fait pas le moine, I suppose.”

“Ce sont de beaux vêtements quand même,” replied Robin, causing Hetty no amount of shock.

“You speak French?” she exclaimed.

“Little bit.” Robin laughed in response.

“A ghostly caveman who speaks fluent French.” mused Hetty. “You really are full of surprises!”

“Me also play good game of chess.” said Robin. Hetty wasn’t sure if he was joking.

“That I do have to see,” she said. Hetty was thinking of her talks with Flower, who was constantly trying to convince her to be more direct in the things she wanted. In that spirit, she looked at the caveman; primal, dirty, sagely and funny. “Robin, I hope you don’t find this too forward, but everyday Alberta and I take a walk together. I imagine with all this uproar she won’t have the time, but I was rather hoping that you might be interested in joining me?”

Robin smiled. “Me like walk. And me no mind if you forward. Me like forward.”

With that, the pair quietly left the crowd and headed out the front door.

The only witness to their excursion was Nigel, who passed them at the threshold outside. His curiosity piqued, he headed inside to ask Sam what was going on. Any questions he might have had were multiplied tenfold when he walked through the front door and straight into the stride of the Captain, causing Nigel to tumble to the ground.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed the Captain, extending a hand down to pull Nigel up. “I do apologize, never a good idea to lose your occupational awareness!”

“No, no,” Nigel started, still looking at the ground as he gathered himself, “it was absolutely my fault-” Nigel’s apology was cut short when he finally looked up, straight into the eyes of the most handsome man he had ever seen. “Oh good heavens.” he meekly mumbled.

“You must be Nigel,” the Captain said, standing at attention and giving Nigel a full salute. “I imagine you must have a bevy of questions?” Nigel found it rather difficult to answer. “Are you quite alright, old chap?” asked the Captain, concerned he might have overstepped. Nigel nodded. “Good good. I rather think Alison and Sam might be more equipped to bring you up to speed. Shall we?”

Later, in the living room, Sam and Alison finished bringing Nigel up to speed, who was now sat between Isaac and the Captain.

“And you say all of our new friends are British?” Nigel asked. When Sam nodded, he added; “Well what a frighteningly interesting development.”

“And they’re going to staying with us for a little while.” Sam concluded.

“If that’s quite alright with you, old boy?” asked the Captain. “I’d hate to force my way into somewhere already occupied.”

“Oh pish posh!” said Nigel. “It’ll be good to have some more true blood Brits around the place. Don’t get wrong, I like a Yankee as much as the next chap-”

“Need I remind you that I am an American?” asked an indignant Isaac.

“-but sometimes you can’t beat a bit of British!” finished Nigel with a high laugh.

The gathering was interrupted with a couple of loud knocks. Even Sam seemed surprised. “Two seconds, I’m going to see who this is. Who’d have thought running a hotel would bring so many people to my door?” Sam hurried away to answer. Soon she returned, with a dark look on her face and an older couple in tow.

“Alison, Mike, allow me to introduce my neighbours, Henry and Margaret Farnsby.”

Chapter Text

“The pleasure is all ours!” boomed Henry, making a large show of taking Mike’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “Samantha, you failed to mention that you’d invited some of your employees to our little get together!”

Mike and Alison exchanged glances.

“Sorry guys, I totally spaced on the Farnsbys coming over. You know, with everything that’s happened. And, actually,” Sam explained, “Mike and Alison are our friends. They’re from England, and they’ll be staying with us for a little while.”

“How delightful!” slurred Margaret. “We once spent a month in Dublin. I don’t remember much of it frankly but by god can the English pour a pint!”

Mike pulled a face. “She knows that’s in Ireland, right?” he whispered to Alison.

“It’s not even two in the afternoon and she’s already drunk.” Alison whispered back. “I think we’re lucky if she knows where she is.”

Henry looked the pair of them up and down, causing Alison to wave back out of reflexive awkwardness. “I don’t think I recall Samantha mentioning either of you before. Have you known each other long?”

Mike and Alison looked at Sam and Jay nervously, all four of them realising that they had no rational way to explain the events of the past few hours without sounding absolutely insane.

“We… uh…” Jay started, stalling for time, “met at a… um…”

“A HOTEL CONVENTION!” shouted Sam, a little too loudly. “We met at a convention for people who run hotels!”

“I’ve never heard of such a convention” said Henry, racking his brain. “What was it called? As someone who once ran the state’s premier Bed and Breakfasts, I can’t believe I let this pass me by!”

“It’s called, um… Hotelmania.” offered Mike, trying to play it call. “But there’s no point in looking it up. Shut down last year. Turns out – not a lot of demand for conventions about hotels. Probably because, y’know most conventions are already in hotels, so it’s too… confusing.”

“And you flew out from England just to go to a convention for hotel owners?” asked Margaret, obliviously.

“Uh… of course!” lied Alison. “Who would miss out on Hotelmadness!?”

“Hotelmania.”

“Exactly!”

Henry and Margaret looked at each, trying to process what they had heard. “Well then, the more the merrier!” said Henry. “I hope you like Tempranillo, because I’ve got a delightful Iberian number right here!”

Mike and Alison stared blankly at the rich couple.

“It’s a wine. The drink. You know, wine?” said Henry flatly.

“Oh yeah, wine!” said Alison. “We love wine! Red… and white. And Rose! So good.”

“Wine gums,” continued Mike. “Great sweet. Easily top five.”

“I’d go top three, even.” said Alison, spiralling.

“Good grief,” muttered Isaac. “This might be the worst I’ve ever seen someone struggle and I have literally watched people bleed out. TO DEATH!”

“All this talk about wine is enough to make a woman thirsty!” said Margaret, mercifully. “Jay, where is your wine cellar?”

Jay and Sam started laughing, only to met by stony silence from the Farnsbys.

“Oh right, you're serious.” sighed Jay. “We don’t have a wine cellar per se, but we do have a really creepy vault that we turned into a makeshift bar, if that’s okay?”

“Is there alcohol there?” Margaret cut to the chase.

“Should be.”

“Good enough. Lead the way!”

Jay led Henry and Margaret toward the vault. A curious Fanny was keen to follow. “Am I hearing this Jay fellow right? Did he say a vault? Now this I must see.” Flower and Kitty went with her, eager to ask Fanny to join them that night for their planned sleepover.

Sam patted Alison on the back. “Way to tell a story you guys!” she applauded.

“I don’t why we didn’t just say we were cousins or something.” said Alison, reflecting on the conversation she’d just had. “So what are those two like?” she asked.

“Truthfully,” Sam explained, “I’ve had better neighbours.”

“That bad?” asked Mike.

“The Farnsbys weren’t exactly thrilled when we showed up.” Sam told the pair. “Even less so when we told them we were turning the place into a hotel. I’m pretty sure they only opened theirs to try and drive us out.”

“What makes you say that?” asked a worried Alison.

“Well, the minute they had to deal with a single guest and the problems that come with it they shut the whole down.”

“Ah.”

-----

Thomas sat in the plush chair, allowing the heat from the sun to bless him. He waited expectedly for inspiration to wash over him like the tide against the shore. Any moment now he knew his mind would be aflame with countless new thoughts and feelings. Soon his masterpiece would flow out of him.

Nothing.

“Blast.” he cursed to an empty room.

“Writer’s block?” asked Sasappis, from the doorway.

“Only for the past few centuries.” joked Thomas.

“I heard you saying earlier that you were a poet?” asked Sasappis. “That’s cool man. Anything I might have heard of?”

“Ah, where to start,” said Thomas, wistfully. “To ask me to choose only one of my works is to ask the field to choose but one blade of grass. You must have heard ‘To Gaze As Is To Love?”

Sasappis shook his head.

“Perhaps you’ve heard ‘Ode to a woman from a distance?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“To Rachel?”

“Nope.”

“Romance, a tale of two souls?”

“Sorry man.”

Thomas slumped back in his seat, somewhat deflated.

“Gotta say dude,” said Sasappis, “you really seem locked in the love stuff. What’s the deal? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Is the rose “locked in” on the water that feeds it?” Thomas started. “Is the lung “locked in” to the very air that it breathes? Is the bee “locked in” to hon-”

“I get it.” Sasappis interrupted.

Thomas let out a heavy sigh. “Forgive my rambling, my friend. To be quite frank, love was to my heart as so much of life is to us ghosts now; something we can merely glance upon, denied so much its wonders and delights.”

Sasappis nodded. “Damn. You really are a poet.”

“And yourself?” Thomas asked. “Are you too also a poet?”

Sasappis shook his head as he took the seat opposite Thomas. “I wish. My whole life, all I wanted to do was be a story-teller. Even when everyone told me to be hunter, or a weaver – you know, a good trade? All I wanted was to tell stories, like my dad.”

“He forbade it?” asked Thomas solemnly.

“Nah, although he did try to talk me out of it for while. But, fair play to him, once I told him I was sure, he was all in.”

“So why did you never pursue your desire to tell stories?”

“Kinda hard to entertain the tribe as a dead guy.”

Thomas nodded.

Sasappis’ eyes went wide, suddenly struck by inspiration. “I got it; we should write something together!” Thomas cocked his head, a sceptical look on his face. “It makes perfect sense,” Sasappis continued, undeterred. “We’re both writers, right? So we should team up!”

Thomas raised a hand. “As much as I appreciate the gesture, I cannot simply allow someone else to attach their name to mine. No offence you understand, but Thomas Thorne and all associated works is a pedigree of considerable renown.”

Sasappis shot him doubting look.

“Very well,” Thomas went on, “let me hear one of your tales, even just a rough outline. If I find it of suitable quality, I see no reason we can’t produce something together.”

Sasappis stood, trying his best to remember the story he had been working on before his death. “Once,” he began, trying his best to sound dramatic, “there was a bear cub. And the cub lived a life of great comfort under the watchful eyes of his mother, who made sure that he always had food to eat, so his belly was full, and shelter, so he could take shelter from the wind and rain.

“One day, the cub noticed that his mother always seemed to struggle, as though under a great weight, and so asked his mother what was wrong. But each time he asked, she refused, telling him that the weight was not his to worry about.

“Many years passed, and one day, the cub became a man, and a father of his own cubs. And soon, as he worried about their safety, about finding them food and ensuring their shelter, he felt the weight upon his back – the weight of the world. And he struggled under it, always straining under the push.

“And so, one day, while out hunting, he meets the spirit of his mother, who had long since passed. He asked her; how did she carry the weight? How did she refuse to tell him of the burden? But she told him that the weight was nothing if it meant that he was safe and fed and happy. And then he understood, so when his cubs asked why he seemed to struggle, he told them not to worry, that he carried the weight gladly.”

Sasappis looked at Thomas expectedly. “So, what did you think? I know the language is a bit wooden but, you know, that was the style of the time. You like it?”

Thomas wiped the tears from his eyes. “Very good. I think we can work together.”

-----

“I have to admit,” said Henry, glancing around the vault, “this place does have a certain rusty charm about it. Of course, it’s nothing on my actual wine cellar, but, I appreciate you have to work with what you have.”

“Thanks?” said Jay, unsure if it was actually a compliment.

“An entire hidden room?” exclaimed Fanny, quite taken with the feature. “I must say, I could have done with one of these in life. I can only imagine if George had been able to slink off to a hidden room to cavort about with his various lovers he might not have found himself with the need to push me from the window.”

“I’m just going to ignore that last part,” said a suspicious Alberta, “but yeah, as someone who’s done her fair share of partying in speakeasys, this one ranks among the nicest.”

“We did most of our partying in open fields,” added Flower. “Trust me, you don’t want to come up on acid in a room where the wallpaper is too bold. Absolutely ruins the trip. And back in the sixties man, so much of the wallpaper was capital B bold.”

“Man, I wish we had a vault!” said Mike, oblivious to the conversation around him.

“Mike, we literally have a walk-in safe at home. You got stuck it for hours. You keep telling people that it’s the closest you’ve come to dying.” said a confused Alison.

“Second closest,” corrected Mike. “’Member that time I almost fell off the roof?”

Alison nodded, conceding his point. “Why do you have a hidden vault in your house anyway?” Alison asked Sam.

“Oh, that’s all thanks to Hetty’s ex-husband Elias.” she explained. “I’m pretty sure he built it to hide out from the authorities. On account of all his crimes.”

“Was he a bad guy?” asked Mike.

“Well, put it this way; he had an affair with the wife of the guy who built the vault, so the guy locked him inside and he died.”

Alison grimaced at the thought. “Is he around here then? I don’t mind you mentioning him.”

“Oh no,” said Sam cheerily, “he’s literally in hell right now. Like, not a metaphor – we saw him get dragged into a fiery portal by actual demons.”

Mike began to rapidly nod. “Right. Right right right. So hell is real? Like actual lake of fire, repent for your sins Hell? That’s so nice to know. Really cool. Soooo cool.” Alison placed a gentle hand on his back.

“Is he gonna be okay?” asked a worried Sam.

“He’ll be fine,” reassured Alison. “He got over the existence of ghosts pretty quick.”

“So,” announced Henry, addressing Alison and Mike, “aside from crossing entire continents to attend hotel conventions, what do you two do for fun?”

Alison and Mike shared a look, unsure of how to answer. “We’re up for pretty much anything, I guess?” answered Alison.

“As long as it’s free, we’re there!” joked Mike.

Henry and Margaret exchanged an almost sinister smirk. “Well, in that case,” Henry began, “my wife and I are hosting a little get-together tomorrow night and we’d be delighted if you two could… swing by, if you fancy it?” Henry and his wife let out a satisfied laugh, much to Alison and Mike’s continued confusion. Sam and Jay did thankfully understand, and made efforts to keep the Farnsbys at bay.

“So guys, how about that dinner!” shouted Jay.

“Yes!” agreed Sam, ushering the group out of the vault with a wave of her hand. “I’ll get us set up in the dining room and Jay will get to work in the kitchen!”

As the living hurried out of the vault, Sam, held Mike and Alison back, whispering to the pair; “I’ll explain the rest to you later, but if the Farnsbys offer you anything to do with pineapples, do not accept! It does NOT mean what you think it does.”

In their rush to leave the vault, neither Sam nor Alison noticed Fanny, Alberta, Flower or Kitty, who were still inside. Nor did the ghosts notice the fleeing living until Mike slammed the door of the vault closed, much to Alberta and Flower’s terror.

“NO!” screamed Alberta, slamming her hands on to the door, much to Fanny’s puzzlement.

“Now ladies,” she condescended, “as much as I enjoy a jest as much as the next woman; that is to say, not at all, I must confess I do not approve of this frivolity. Now can we please just-” Fanny’s diatribe was cut short when she walked face first into the metal door, falling backward to the floor. “WHAT ON EARTH!” she cried. “What kind of nonsensery is this?”

“The vault,” Alberta began to explain, a real panic in her voice, “it’s built out of some kind of ghost-proof metal! We can’t walk through it.”

“You didn’t think to mention any of this before the four of us set foot inside this wretched metal deathtrap!?” admonished an infuriated Fanny.

“Everyone stop shouting!” pleaded Kitty. “You’ll use up all the air!”

Fanny rolled her eyes, before slamming her hand against the door. “Alison! ALISON!”

Flower shook her head. “It’s no use man. Nothin’ gets out of that door. No sound, no ghosts. Nothing.”

“And pray tell,” said Fanny, distress starting to seep in to her normally held figure, “how are we supposed to escape this blasted metal box?”

“Oh,” said Flower, her face lighting up. “That’s easy. We don’t.”

-----

Thomas and Sasappis were both sat, equally frustrated at their lack of narrative progress. In the what felt like hours they had been together, neither of them had produced anything of note.

“I’m just saying,” spat a seething Sasappis, “that bears can feel love!”

“For the last time,” fired back an equally tired Thomas, “we are not making the protagonist a bear!”

“Bears kick ass!”

“I did not commit myself to the power of the written word so that I could compose works that “kicked ass!” Thomas rose from his seat and marched over to the window, throwing one of his feet on the ledge and posing performatively. “Perhaps our efforts at collaboration were a mistake. I cannot work under these conditions!”

A curious Trevor walked in, drawn to the commotion. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” he asked.

“Trevor and me are supposed to be writing a story together,” Sasappis explained, “but Lord By-Wrong over here refuses to write about anything other than being in love!”

Thomas was indignant with rage at the comparison. “Do not, EVER, compare my beautiful work to the filth produced by that charlatan!” he rang. “At least my work isn’t some dirge about the plight of the local fauna!”

Trevor was delighted by the scene in front of him. “Guys,” he began, raising his hands in an effort to calm the pair, “you know what this is right?” Both of the would be writers shook their heads. “It’s a buddy cop movie.”

“What on Earth is a ‘buddy cop’ movie?” asked a baffled Thomas.

Trevor looked at both of them, confused that neither of them knew about the cornerstone of cinema. “Look, I get the two of you died a while ago, but are you seriously telling me neither of you have heard of Lethal Weapon? Rush Hour? Men in Black? Freakin’ Tango and Cash?”

“Did you make some of those up?” asked Sasappis, unsure.

“It’s simple guys,” Trevor went on. “You take two people who on the surface are totally different, like say; a laid back Lenape storyteller and a self-centred uptight poet. Then you force them together, into some kind of high stakes action adventure kinda thing; normally it's to solve some kind of crime but basically anything like that is good.”

“And then?” pushed an enraptured Thomas.

“Then the thing basically writes itself. At the start, the two of them totally can’t stand each other, always at each other’s throats. But by the end? They realise that in spite of everything, they’ve actually become best bros.”

Sasappis and Thomas were both wide-eyed at the concept. “That’s exactly what we need, Trev. That could work!” Sass exclaimed.

Thomas nodded in excited agreement. “I can just imagine it now; two poets – no, two detectives! One of them is a lover, a man of words. He yearns to make a difference, but his idealism makes him a target. And the other…”

“The other,” continued Sasappis, “is cynical. He’s of the earth; A real bear of a man. He’s seen it all, and got the scars to prove it…”

“Alright, alright,” encouraged Trevor, “we’re cooking with gas here guys, keep it coming!”

“And one fateful day,” Thomas said, his mind frantic, the lover discovers that his fiancee has been killed!” Trevor pointed at him, loving the energy.

“And the lover’s fiancee, that’s… that’s the other guys sister!” added Sasappis, equally as inspired.

“Yes my dudes, that’s it!” proclaimed an excited Trevor.

“And so,” Thomas practically yelled, “they have to team to bring her murderer to justice!” Thomas and Sasappis grabbed each other, pulling the other into a hug. Thomas then turned to Trevor. “My most sincere thank you, Trevor. Even the most powerful blaze is nothing without the first initial spark which alights it.”

Trevor waved him down, turning and beginning to leave the room. “Hey, don’t mention it. Spreading the gospel of Lethal Weapon is thanks enough my guys. Although, I wouldn’t mind a co-writer credit, now that you mention it.” With that he left.

“I am not giving him a co-writer credit.” Sasappis added as soon as Trevor was out of ear shot.

“Oh, absolutely not.” agreed Thomas. “Now, shall we?”

-----

Kitty was despondent, slumped on the floor of the vault. “What are we going to do?” she cried.

“Well Kitty,” said Fanny, as gently as she could muster, “we certainly aren’t going to free ourselves by moping on the ground now, are we?”

Kitty remained on the floor.

“Kitty, what’s wrong?” asked Flower. “I know this seems like a total bummer right now, but it’s not like we can die… again, right?”

Kitty wiped the tears from her eyes. “It’s not that that’s bothering me.”

“Well what is it then, dearie?” asked Fanny.

“What if Alison forgets that we’re in here?” Kitty lamented. “What if she never comes back?”

“Kitty,” said Fanny, kneeling on the ground before her, “what would ever make you think that Alison would ever abandon you? Heaven knows she’s had plenty of opportunity in the past to move on and she hasn’t done so.”

Kitty looked at Alberta and Flower. “It’s Sam,” she blubbered. “Now that she has Sam, why would she hang around with me any more?”

“Now Kitty, why would that be case?” asked Fanny, now sat on the floor next to her.

“I know Alison would never say anything,” Kitty started, her voice low and shaky, “but I’m not stupid. I know she gets lonely, stuck in our big empty house, in the middle of nowhere. Remember when Lucy turned up?”

“Who’s Lucy?” asked Alberta.

“A conwoman,” muttered Fanny, a note of real hatred in her voice, “who arrived on our doorstep one day claiming to be Alison’s long lost sister.”

“And she wasn’t?” Alberta prodded. “Then why did she say she was?”

“Part of a nefarious scheme to defraud Alison out of a significant amount of money.” Fanny explained. “The ordeal crushed Alison, frankly. Her whole life she’d longed for a sister, then along comes this shameless criminal to exploit her. Wretched girl.”

“Exactly Fanny,” said Kitty, fresh tears on her face. “Just like you said; Alison has always wanted a sister. And now she’s met Sam, who’s nice and funny and kind. And she’s… she’s… still alive. She can actually hug her. Not just put her arms through her and almost be sick.”

Alberta and Flower looked at each other, both of them feeling immense sympathy for the girl on the floor. “Honey,” Alberta said, “let me tell you, as someone who’s known Sam for a little while, she ain’t trying to steal away your best friend.”

“Yeah, Sam might be a convicted witch, but other than that, she’s pretty cool.” added Flower.

“But why wouldn’t Alison choose Sam over me? Sam isn’t trapped in some crumbling old house all the time. She can actually go out dancing whenever she wants. Get her hair done. Paint each others nails. Wear matching outfits.” Kitty stared despondently at the ground. “I can’t do any of those things.”

Flower sat at Kitty’s other side. “Kitty, I think you’re missing the real picture here. Yeah, it’s a total downer that you can’t do all that stuff. There’s times where I wanna get of this place too. See the world, travel, meet new people, do it under the light of the moon-”

“Keep it focused Flower!” chided Alberta.

“-but Alison can right? She could, if she wanted to, leave at any time, do whatever she wanted?”

“Alison does have a frightfully free spirit, yes,” Fanny nodded.

“So why then does she choose to spend all that time with you Kitty?” Flower asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Kitty confused.

“Wait, yeah!” said Alberta, catching on. “I reckon that Alison must have at least a couple of living friends, right?”

“She does,” said Fanny. “A grotesque collection of godless bohemians. Sometimes she invites them all over, and let me tell you that if you thought Alison was bad that this menagerie of-”

“Fanny I hate to cut you off but Bertie’s making a point here,” said Alberta, putting her foot down. “So, like you said, Alison could be out with those folks every night if she wanted to. So why do you think she ain’t?”

“Because she has no money?” offered Kitty. The other three women nodded in mild concession.

“No Kitty,” said Fanny, “well, perhaps somewhat. But I think the point our new American friends are making is that Alison spends all her time with you because she wants to.”

“I haven’t known Alison for that long,” added Flower, “and to be honest, up until about half an hour ago I still wasn’t convinced any of you were real. But like, from what I’ve seen of her, Alison seems like a pretty groovy gal. I don’t think she would be hanging out with you if she didn’t like you.”

“And look,” added Alberta, “I ain’t gonna pretend that it won’t be good for Sam and Alison to spend some time together; lord knows our girl needs some still breathing company that isn’t some kind of construction worker, or, damn me for even saying it, Todd-” Alberta shivered at the thought. “-but you gotta know that what you and Alison have? That’s special.”

Kitty looked at the three other woman. “Do you really think so?” she added, the hint of her usual vigour back in her voice once again.

“I know so Kitty,” Fanny reassured her. “Heaven knows I’ve found fault with Alison on numerous occasions, and rightfully so, but her loyalty to you – to us, has never been in question.”

The conversation was cut short when the vault door began to shift. “Oh thank the lord!” proclaimed Alberta, rushing over to see who had liberated them. Eventually the door fully opened, revealing an out of breath Sam and Alison on the other side.

“You really weren’t lying,” said Alison, clutching her side, her breathing ragged. “That thing really is heavy!”

“Alison!” shouted Kitty, scrambling to her feet. “You found us!”

Fanny, attempting to hide the massive wave of relief washing over her, took a calm tone. “I never doubted that you would for a moment.”

“How did you know we were missing?” asked Flower.

“Well,” Sam explained, “Alison and I were just swapping ghost stories, so to speak, and she was telling me all about her and Kitty do all this cool stuff together.”

“And that’s when I noticed you hadn’t come back from the vault.” finished Alison. “Then Sam told this wild story about how she almost suffocated inside it because ghosts can’t go through it and the two of us realised where you must be.”

“Sorry about that guys, I really should have warned you about the whole ghost-proof thing.” said Sam sheepishly.

“All if forgiven, Samantha,” said Fanny.

“Thanks Fanny!”

“Although, perhaps a sign might be in order. After all, if one of our less memorable compatriots had locked themselves in, it might have been disastrous.”

“Noted.”

“Is everyone alright?” asked Alison.

“We’re fine, Alison,” said Kitty, looking at the three other ghosts with pride. “And, I just want to say, it’s fine if you want to make Sam your new best friend. I won’t get in the way.”

“Aw, Kitty,” said Alison, “you know I could never actually replace you!”

“Actually,” added Sam, “I was kinda hoping you might show me some of those dance moves Kitty. I’d really love to learn some of them.”

“Oh yes, Sam, of course!” said Kitty, beaming.

Alison approached the three other ghosts. “Thanks for keeping an eye out for her. I know how she can get.”

“Not at all,” said Alberta. “She’s one heck of a pal, I’ll give her that.”

“Yeah,” agreed Flower, “you really mean a lot to that chick.”

Alison looked over to Kitty, already attempting to show Sam part of her routine. “She means a lot to me too.”

“We really should get back to the Farnsbys.” said Sam. “We told them we were going to the bathroom and I feel like it’s been long enough now that we’re just raising more questions.”

Soon, the women were back in the dining room.

“They you are!” Henry called. “I was just in the middle of a riveting conversation with Mike about the game of squash!”

Alison took her seat next to Mike. “Sounds riveting.” she whispered to him.

“Honestly for a while I thought he was talking about the fruit juice.” he muttered back. “Everything alright with the ghosts?”

Alison looked over at Kitty, who was talking to Pete and the Captain. “They’re fine.” Alison was surprised when she noticed the expression on Pete’s face, which in the entire time she had known him had only been one of absolute positivity, turn sour. She followed his eyeline to two figures she didn’t recognise; one an older woman dressed in some kind of makeshift cat costume, complete with ears; the other a shorter woman, face riddled with sores, robed in what she thought might be some kind of potato sack.

“Yo!” yelled the shorter one in the sack cloth, “why the hell is Hetty making out with some kind of ape man?”

Chapter Text

“I’m just saying, what’s the point on going on holiday if you can’t get in some rumpy-pumpy with a stranger?” shouted an almost offended Julian to no-one in particular.

“Bloody Nora man!” replied Pat. “We’re barely here five minutes and all you can think about is yer sordid business! Where’s yer sense of adventure lad? Of discovery?”

Julian waved down Pat’s suggestion. “Pfft! Anyone knows that the best part of any holiday is getting frisky with the locals!”

“Nonsense man!” rebuked an indignant Pat. “The best part of any decent ‘oliday is the grub! Spanish tapas, Italian pasta, German sausage! Oh what I wouldn’t do to get me ‘ands on some proper food again…”

“Thorfinn travel to many strange lands in his time,” agreed Thorfinn, stroking his beard. “consume many strange meals. None compare to glory of cod.”

Pat nodded; “I do love a chippy.”

Julian sat himself next to Thorfinn, attempting to put a friendly hand around his shoulder. A quick sniff of the potent aroma of wolf urine had Julian soon back on his feet. “You must have met a few saucy strumpets in your time? A new gal in every port, eh?”

Thorfinn shook his head. “Thorfinn strictly one woman type of man, although many of Thor fellow sailors not so much. Mostly just lead to broken hearts and painful itching.”

Julian let out a deflating sigh. “Good grief, is there no-one around here interested in a little fun!? Don’t suppose you’ve got any in-roads with the groovy hippy gal I saw earlier?”

Thorfinn stood, smacking one of his massive hands on Julian’s shoulder. “Flower means world to Thor. If anyone should hurt her, Thorfinn would make it life mission to bring the terrors of Hel upon them. Understood?”

Julian collected himself somewhat nervously. “Message received big chap!”

“Although, if puny pantsless man wants to lay with woman, there is one I suggest…”

Julian perked up at the mention.

“You met Pete already?”

“The second most ‘andsome bloke with an arrow in ‘is neck?” joked Pat.

Thorfinn nodded. “He not only member of his family to die on house grounds. His wife, Carol, also here.”

“I’ll be damned!” chimed in Pat. “Me wife’s name is also Carol! What are the chances eh?”

“How did she go?” asked Julian.

“Choke on doughnut hole.” explained Thorfinn. Pat and Julian shared a look, neither familiar with the dessert in question, both of them trying to figure out how someone could choke on a hole. “If Julian really just here for that, she the one to speak to.”

“Won’t that be a right spit in Pete’s face?” asked a concerned Pat. “I’d ‘ate to do summin’ like that to a fellow scout.”

Thorfinn laughed. “Carol… she not that kind of woman. Turns out she sleeping with Pete friend basically whole time they married. Really humiliating time for Pete when we found out! Many joke at Pete expense!”

Pat’s face darkened considerably, while Julian’s lit up. Pat shot the politician an extremely judgemental look, as though silently pleading with him to go no further. Julian did his best to not meet Pat’s eyeline.

“So, my Viking friend, where might one meet the lovely Carol?”

“JULIAN!” implored Pat.

“Now, be fair,” Julian began to excuse himself, “if you recall, Pat, I do believe that last week we both overheard Alison explaining to Fanny something called ‘sex positivity,’ did we not?”

Pat nodded, unsure of where the conversation was heading. “We did, aye. I seem to remember you kept interrupting with “I’m positive I like a bit of s-”

“And, was the conclusion of that little conversation not that sometimes, as a matter of fact, that women seeking their own, ahem, fulfilment, is the current feminist thing to do?”

“Now Julian, I don’t think that was what Alison meant-”

“AND SO! Might it not be that in stopping me, as it where, you might in fact be the one being in the wrong here, Pat?”

Thorfinn nodded, convinced. “Carol live in woodshed with husband Baxter.”

“You didn’t mention she had remarried!” huffed Julian.

Thorfinn grinned. “Take it from Thor, Carol not really kind of woman who care about bonds of matrimony.” Julian, content he had heard enough, slicked his hair back and made his exit.

Pat threw his hands up in frustration. “Can’t take our lot anywhere!”

-----

Hetty and Robin wandered through the picturesque grounds of Woodstone, neither of them really sure of what to say.

“It isn’t much of course,” Hetty started, “but it does me good to wander the grounds of the house every so often.”

Robin nodded enthusiastically. “Me love walks. Used to be me always outside. Running. Hunting. Being chased. The classics.”

“Is that what you did then? Hunting? When you were alive? Must have been frightfully dangerous.” She asked.

“Oh yeah.” Robin agreed. “But you know, it pay bills. Well, we no have money then, but get idea.”

“You didn’t have any form of currency? Then how did you know who was naturally more important?” Hetty asked, shocked.

“Back then, no need for money. Just everyone have thing they do – me hunt, other guy do pelts. Other one do spears. Some look after cubs. Good system, keep everything going.”

“My my,” mulled Hetty, thinking on what Robin was describing. “Did you enjoy it? All the hunting?”

Robin stopped, taking in the sight of a nearby bridge and lake. “Don’t know really. Had to do it at time. Tribe have to eat.”

“But you would rather have done something else? Make pelts perhaps?”

Robin scrunched up his face in thought.

“Me like paint.” he grunted.

Hetty joined Robin at the edge of the bridge, watching the light reflect off the rushing water. “You were an artist?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Don’t know if call me self artist. But like to paint.” he said, satisfied with his own answer.

“And what did you paint?” she asked, her eyes alight.

“Anything really. Paint animals, mountains, trees. Other ones in tribe.” he described, thinking back to his days in the caves. “Funny really. Long time brings fog – so much me can’t think of so much. Faces. Tribesmen. All lost. But remember paintings still. So much lost, but paintings live forever. In here.” He illustrated his point by pointing to his head.

“I posed for a painting once,” said Hetty, equally overcome with a sense of nostalgia. “A long time ago.”

“Wha happen?” asked Robin, in the gentlest voice he could muster.

“Oh, nothing much. He and I were engaged, the man I posed for. But it wasn’t too be, in the end.”

“You no love him?” Robin offered.

“Oh I very much did, my prehistoric friend. Perhaps a little too much.” Hetty sighed.

“Then what?” Robin probed.

“My father, never one for the arts to begin with, found out. Threatened to cut me out of my inheritance. Frankly I wish with every fibre of my being that I had let him. But I was younger then. More foolish.”

A heavy silence fell on the pair, both of them lost in their own pasts.

“Me would have liked to have paint you.” said Robin, turning to face Hetty. She cracked a small smile, despite herself.

“And why is that, pray tell?” she asked.

“You have good face. Bright eyes, like moon. Hair like fire.” he began to laugh, as Hetty began to blush.

“You know how to flatter a woman, Robin.” she said, waving him down.

“No flattery,” he countered. “Just true.”

Hetty allowed herself just to bask in the compliment. She stared at the caveman, unable to believe that she was allowing herself to fall for him.

“You can kiss me.” Robin muttered, cheekily. “If you like.”

“How very forward of you.” said Hetty, a small smile creeping across his face. “And what makes you think a lady like myself would want the courtship of a brute such as yourself?” She put a hand on her hip performatively.

“Me think you have thing for artists. Specially painters.” Robin said, leaning in slowly.

“Perhaps I do…” Hetty agreed, also leaning in.

-----

Pat found himself alone, marching the corridors of Woodstone, still inflamed at the way Julian had acted earlier. “I tell ya, what has gotten into folk these days?” he sighed to no-one. “All this running around, trying to get a leg up wi’ each other. What’s wrong wi’ gettin’ to know each other first? Me and Carol were goin’ steady for months before we even so much as kissed!”

Unbeknownst to Pat, he was not as alone as he thought. Lurking in the walls was Patience, who was very much enjoying Pat’s impromptu screed. “Yes!” she quietly agreed to herself. “Finally, another soul who understands the blessed tenants of chastity!”

“And another thing!” Pat continued, “what’s wrong with jus’ takin’ things slow? With a nice trip t’beach, maybe a nice bit of lasagne at a little cafe, some ice cream to finish it off? Why is it all so bloody... primal all of a sudden?”

Patience was nodding along frantically.

“Bloody Julian. There’s no good comes with thinkin’ with the wrong ‘ead!” Pat finished.

Patience could contain her joy no longer, bursting from the wall, much to Pat’s terror. He let out a very unbecoming scream.

“Do not be alarmed!” cried Patience, much to Pat’s further alarm. “I did not mean to cause distress! I was simply so taken with your sermon, I had to make myself known to you! I am Patience, delighted to make your acquaintance sir!” She stuck out her hand with off-putting vigour.

“Oh right,” said Pat, attempting to straighten himself out. “Name’s Pat. Pat Butcher. And I’m sorry ye had to hear all that there. Didn’t think I was preaching t’choir, so t’speak. Just been a bit of odd day is all.”

“How fortunate that a man of such character should die this day in this house of sin!” said Patience.

“Thanks for that,” Pat beamed, “… I think. But I’ve been dead for a while now.”

Patience cocked her head to the side with curiosity. “Have you also been lost to the dirt this entire time? By the grace of the lord, to think that even after all this time that the dirt could still hold some secrets, even from me!”

Pat shook his head, confused as to where to even start. He did his best to explain the situation to Patience, who seemed to react to each new revelation by placing her hands over her mouth and gasping.

“And so,” Pat concluded, “here we are. Stranger in a strange land and all that.”

“And you are sure that this event in not the work of the devil himself?” Patience asked.

“Funny you should ask” chortled Pat. “Mary asked much the same before we came through. And no, I don’t think it’s the work of the devil. Although I’ve heard Julian called worse!” he joked.

“This Julian that you speak of; is he an agent of the prince of lies?” Patience asked in a panicked, hushed tone. “I head you speak of his many sins.”

Pat laughed. “Oh, it’s nothin’ like that. Julian’s just a man who likes a bit of the more sordid things in life is all. You know, likes a drink and bit of the old… um… how should I say it?”

“Dancing?” offered Patience, an aghast tone in her voice. Pat thought for a second before cautiously nodding. “Yeah, you could call it dancing, in a sense.”

“And you?” asked Patience, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Are you prone to dancing yourself?”

Pat thought of earlier that day, being forced by Kitty to dish out some of the harder moves for the sake of Alberta. “Not really, no.” he lied, with a quick shake of the head.

“Then I thank the almighty that he has blessed this house with more strong souls such as yourself!” said Patience, with a clap of her hands. “The current crop of occupants leaves much to be desired, truth be told. A sordid den of loose tongues and adulterers at the best of times.”
“Well at least they’ve someone of strong moral standing to keep ‘em right, eh?” smiled Pat, trying to keep things light. Patience giggled, then covered her mouth as though she had misspoke.

“My apologies sir. It is unbecoming of a good Christian woman to allow herself the lowness of humour. Forgive me.” she said, her eyes on the floor.

“Apology accepted,” said Pat. “Nothing wrong with ‘avin’ a laugh now and then. And please, I insist ye call me Pat. Only time I ever get called sir is when I’ve had too many pints.” Patience once again found herself at mercy at the lowness of humour; although this time she felt markedly less shame at the concept.

-----

Julian approached the rickety woodshed, a decidedly unimpressed look on his face. “Hardly the Ritz, is it?” he muttered. “Still, hardly the worst place I’ve gone for a roll in the hay. Oh, how I miss those little trips to the country with the secretaries.” He gave his hair a final slick back and made his way inside.

The interior was somehow even less impressive than the outside. However the only thing Julian was focused on was the woman sat at the other side of the room.

“Knock knock!” he announced, causing Carol to turn around.

“Well hi there,” she said with a smile, drinking in the sight of Julian with predatory eyes. “I thought I heard Baxter saying something about some sort of visiting ghosts. Although, he didn’t mention anything about them looking so suave…”

“If you like what you see now,” purred Julian, “you should have seen me with trousers on!”

“Oh I think I like you best just like this.” said Carol suggestively. Carol’s aggressiveness took Julian by surprise; he wasn’t used to being hit on this blatantly. “Is that a wedding ring I see?” she added.

“What?” asked a flustered Julian. “Oh, this thing! Right! Of course! Well, it is just ‘til death’ do us part isn’t it? Although, cards on the table, there might have been a few wayward walks when I was still technically married, I suppose. And technically alive.”

Carol rose from her seat, prowling over to Julian, never once breaking eye contact with him. Julian stepped backward, losing his footing and falling into an open chair. He looked around nervously, as though trying to will Baxter to return and bail him out from the situation.

“You know, actually, on reflection,” Julian began to stammer, “it would be unbecoming of a man of my, ahem, political stature, you know, as it were, to enter in to an affair at this time, so I’ll just be on my way…”

Carol cut him off by placing one of her cat paw shoes on the arm of the chair. “Spare me the excuses, James Bond. That’s the thing about dying with no pants on; we can both see your political stature.”

Julian looked down, cursing himself and his unchecked libido. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair to old Baxter now, would it? From one Englishman to another. Just not cricket, is it?”

“Baxter and I have a sort of open thing. Why don’t you relax, House of Lords, and have yourself a good time?”

Julian, having decided he’d put up enough of a token resistance, shrugged his shoulders. “When in Rome, eh?” he smirked.

“Vieni qui, ragazzone…” Carol purred back.

Julian decided it wasn’t important if he understood her or not, as the chair hit the floor.

-----

Hetty was finding entirely new ways to enjoy the nature of Woodstone Manor, as she and Robin kissed deeply in the shade of one of the ground’s many trees. Normally she would have been worried that one of her ghostly compatriots would have discovered her, but on this occasion she decided she didn’t give a single damn. She felt a single laugh escape her lips.

“You okay?” asked Robin.

“Oh, I am wonderful!” Hetty proclaimed. “I don’t think there’s anyone that could ruin this perfect momen-”

“’Sup Hetts! Gettin’ freaky with the new ghosts already! Alright, I can respect that!”

Hetty bit down on her lower lip, suppressing her emotions if just for a moment. “Hello Nancy,” she said, a droll tone in her voice as she turned to face the thing that threatened to ruin her perfect moment. “I was just showing our new guest here, uh, the grounds!”

Nancy nodded salaciously. “Showing him the grounds huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Nancy cackled at her own joke, much to Hetty’s chagrin. “Names Nancy. Pleased to meet ya!” she said, extending her hand warmly, which Robin shook enthusiastically. “Some of the other basement dwellers mentioned we had a few new stiffs on the grounds, but even still, that is some quick work Hetty!” Nancy raised her hand expectedly, waiting for a high five, which Robin attempted to complete, only for Hetty to pull his hand back down.

“Nancy,” she began, trying to compose herself somewhat, “now I appreciate what you must think you just saw-”

“You gettin’ freaky with Captain Caveman-”

“But I can assure you, I can explain-”

Nancy waved her down. “Listen, Hetts, you ain’t gotta explain yourself to me,” Nancy started, ignoring Hetty’s obvious rage. “Tell ya the truth I’m hoping to get a little one on one time with the army dude myself!”

“Wouldn’t put money on it…” muttered Robin.

“So don’t you worry Hetty. Your secret is safe with me!” Nancy declared, before making her way to the house to tell everyone about what she had seen.

“Oh lord.” hummed Hetty. “I imagine that will be the entire house shall know soon.” She turned to Robin, before realising what she had just said. “Not that I don’t want that of course! It’s just, you know how the mob can be; with their rumours and gossip!”

Robin let out a laugh. “It fine. You no first lady want to keep things, as Alison say, ‘on down low.’ Robin good where it count – that why so many can’t resist. But me get it. You fancy lady. Me, not so much.”

Hetty appreciated the caveman’s words of comfort, but nevertheless still felt bad. “To hell with it.” she declared. “If Flower can cavort with Thorfinn and Samantha can marry a damned common kitchen worker, I see no reason why we should be ashamed!”

Robin nodded, surprised and pleased at how animated Hetty seemed. He turned to head back to the house, but Hetty grabbed at his furs, stopping him.

“Wha wrong?” he asked. “No want to tell everyone no more?”

“Oh, I intend to tell everyone, in time,” cooed Hetty, “but I do believe you and I were in the middle of something, before we were so rudely interrupted…”

Robin didn’t have to be told twice.

-----

“And the entire time you were out there, a stalwart member of the local community, she was sullying her sacred marriage bed with the warmth of another?” asked an indignant Patience.

“Oh no, it weren’t like that,” explained Pat. “Heavens no. I think in the end we where just two very different people, in the end. She were a’ways the more spontaneous one, really. When I think about it now I sometimes feel like I ended driving Carol away, me and my bloody rules.”

“Good sir, as much as I do not wish to speak out of turn, an adherence to strict rules is not a weakness! If anything it speaks to a strength of character!” Patience pleaded.

“Yer very nice t’say.” nodded Pat appreciatively.

“And more,” Patience continued breathlessly, “It is a noble effort to try to deflect from the sins of this Carol. From what I’ve gathered, women with that name are predisposed to adultery! To hear tales of our Pete and his unfaithful wife is to hear the sorts of debauchery normally reserved for the alehouse!”

“Now you say it, from what I’ve heard of this other Carol I can’t imagine Pete ‘avin’ an easy time of it,” Pat agreed. “But enough about me, what about you Patience? You must have some real interestin’ stories yerself!”

Patience shook her head almost instinctually.

“Oh come on,” said an undeterred Pat, “I don’t believe that!”

“I fear that you would find me frightfully boring, Patrick,” Patience said with a deep sigh. “T’were many of the colony who said that one of my finer points as a woman is that I lacked much of a personality.”

Pat wrestled with the remark for a while. “Patience, I think it were those men were the ones who were lackin.’ You’ve sat ‘ere and listened to the life story of a near stranger and you’ve had nary an unkind word to say t’me. I think that speaks to… well, a strength of character.”

Patience found tears welling in her eyes. “You’ll forgive me Patrick. Such feeble womanly emotions are inappropriate at even the best of times.”

“I don’t think so,” countered Pat. “I spent me ‘ole life trying to keep me emotions in check and look what it got me.” He made a performance of flicking the end of the arrow, causing Patience to let out an unexpected laugh. She covered her mouth, going to apologise, but Pat was ready. “There’s a smile! And I’ll hear no sorrys for the laughin’ neither!”

Patience took a moment, staring at Pat. “Patrick, I understand this might be frightfully improper, and by the Lord I pray you tell me if it so, but I have discovered for myself a little alcove… a cave of sorts. I do wonder if you might like to inspect this dwelling for yourself… a man of such practical means, I reckon I would like for you to see it.” Patience turned a bright scarlet, a feat made all the more impressive if just for the lack of blood in her body.

“I’d like that very much.” said Pat warmly.

Patience nodded, her eyes still closed in embarrassment. “I should warn you, it will require us to traverse through some amount of dirt, if such a thing is tolerable to you?”

Pat nodded. “Like spelunking? This ‘oliday just gets better and better!”

Patience took him by the hand and led him toward the basement.

-----

“Yo!” Nancy to the assembled living and dead, “why the hell is Hetty making out with some kind of ape man?” She waited for the attention to fall on her. “Nah, I’m just joshing ya! I know he’s a caveman! Seems cool though.”

Jay noticed that Sam seemed to be looking at an empty doorway, a telltale sign of ghost activity. “What’s happening babe?”

Sam leaned over and began to whisper to him; “I think Hetty got caught making out with Robin?”

“The caveman guy? Way to go Hetty!” Jay celebrated.

“I know right,” agreed Sam, “I guess hanging out with Flower really is rubbing off on her!”

“She’s not the only one welcoming our new friends with a bang!” exclaimed Carol with a wink.

“Carol, you dog!” shouted Nancy, slapping Carol on the back. “First, who did you did you get with, and second – any good?”

“Julian,” Carol revealed shamelessly. “Honestly, I’ve had better. But not many.”

“What’s happening now?” asked Mike, now having clocked that Alison also seemed distracted.

“You know how I used to have that nightmare about being forced to listen to Julian talk about all the women he’s slept with? It’s basically that with extra steps.”

“Not much in the way of raw stamina,” Carol continued unabated, “but my god, the man knew his stuff. Imagine it, still learning new moves at my age!”

Sam shot Alison a sympathetic look. “At least we’ll have something to talk about at the sleepover?” Sam offered.

The Farnsbys perked back up. “I didn’t realise your new friends were into that sort of fun!” Henry shot out with a sinister smile.

“Who wants to see the restaurant!?” cried Jay, desperate to talk about anything else.

Chapter Text

“And you’re sure we can’t convince you four to pop over for a little fun?” asked Henry, refusing to leave, his equally eager wife just beyond the threshold.

“Maybe some other time,” lied Sam, doing her best not to slam the door on Henry’s foot, “y’know, when we aren’t as busy!” The Farnsbys, finally taking the hint, made their leave. Sam slammed the door closed behind them, leaning against it and letting out a relieved sigh.

“Okay,” nodded Alison, “I think we can safely say that you win when it comes to weird neighbours.”

“Yeah,” agreed Mike, “say what you like about Barks and Bunny, they’ve never tried to get us over for a bit of… uh… group fun.” Mike and Alison let out a mutual shiver.

“Trust me,” added Jay, “it’s so much worse once you’ve seen them nude. Every time I close my eyes I see it. So much dangling.” Sam winced at the thought.

“Honestly I’m just glad they’re gone.” said Sam, trying her hardest to eject the vision of the naked Farnbys from her mind. “All of these new ghosts to get to know and we’re stuck down here talking to our creepy neighbours.”

“That reminds me,” said Alison suddenly, “we promised Kitty we’d get all the girls together for that sleepover.” The sudden appearance of Pete put a plan in motion.

“Pete!” proclaimed Sam, “would you be able to wrangle all the girls together? Tell them to meet us in the master bedroom?”

Pete gave a big thumbs up. “Can do Sam!”

“Oh, and Pete,” she continued, “can you try and keep the other guy ghosts busy? Just for tonight?”

Pete ruminated on the question. “All I can do is try!”

“Babe,” Jay added, “if you and Alison are planning on some kind of girls night, I think I can help. Pete, buddy you still here?” he asked to the room.

“Always here for you buddy!” replied Pete, knowing that Jay couldn’t hear him. Sam nodded to Jay.

“Pete my man, you tell the rest of the dude ghosts to meet me in the restaurant – I got a lot of great smells coming up!”

“Smells?” asked a confused Mike.

“Oh, don’t worry,” whispered Jay back. “You and I actually get to eat the food, but, ya know, obviously the ghosts can’t. Didn’t want to rub it in.”

“And they love the smells?”

“Oh yeah. They go absolutely nuts for them.”

“Perfect!” said Sam, clapping her hands together in joy.

-----

Soon, the women, living and undead, were assembled in the master bedroom, where an ecstatic Kitty was holding court, her excitement threatening to burst out of her at any moment. “Once again, I just want to thank everyone for coming! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” she proclaimed.

“No luck in finding Carol?” asked Sam.

“I think she’s with Julian.” said Alison. “As much as I don’t want to think about it.”

“And are we sure this many women in a room together is legal?” asked Hetty, casting a dark look over the proceedings. “We all know that the female mind is prone to fits of fancy with these sort of numbers.”

Fanny nodded. “Back in my day a group of women would only be assembled in silence, leaving the more difficult conversational topics to the men.”

“My god Fanny,” said a sympathetic Alison, “that sounds totally depressing.”

“Not at all, Alison,” Fanny replied, “it was often the most relaxing part of my day. Take it from me Alison, one day you too will come to appreciate the serenity of a calm silence.”

“Maybe if I ever get one…” Alison muttered under her breath.

“I agree with Lady Fanny!” announced Patience. “Silence is a one of the lord’s most heavenly virtues! PATIENCE!”

At Patience’s outburst, Alison and the various Button House ghosts pressed themselves against the opposite wall. Eventually Alison crept slightly closer. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Alison, and you’re… Patience, I take it?”

Patience nodded. “I am aware of you and your party, dear Alison. Patrick explained all matters when I was showing him my dirt hole!”

Alberta let out an unintended snort. Nancy almost fell out of her chair. Even Sam, mostly used to the ghost’s various outbursts, put a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Is that whats they be callin’ it these days?” asked a genuinely curious Mary.

Patience took a moment and realised what she had said. “Dear heavens! Thine lot and your dirty minds!”

“Yous be the ones sayin’ it.” mumbled Mary in a half-hearted defence.

“Hot damn, you girls work fast!” said Nancy, striking her knee. “First Hetty puts the moves on Encino Man-”

Hetty tutted loudly enough for the room to hear.

“- and now Patience is showing Pat around her dirt hole!”

“There has gotta be a better way to say that!” said Alberta.

“Well,” said Sam, “I think it’s nice! Getting to know all our new friends!”

“I quite think you and I have vastly differing definitions of the term ‘getting to know” sniped Fanny.

The oncoming argument was quelled with the timely appearance of Joan, who walked through the wall, a relieved look on her face. “Well thank goodness I found you!” she shouted, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve been wandering around this place for a darn age looking for a single spook! Where the heck has everyone gone?”

Sam stood, waving Joan in to the room. “Everyone, this is Joan!” All the Button House ghosts waved in response. “Joan here is a wanderer, just like Pete! Her and I have a kind of, mentor protégée thing going on.” Joan shot her a curious look, but opted to move past it.

“And who are all these delightful new faces?” asked Joan.

“Hi there, I’m Alison. Long story short, I’m still alive, yes I can see ghosts, and we’re from England. We came here through a portal wall, and no, we don’t know how it works.”

“Neat summary, if nothing else.” said Joan. “And what’s with all the dames being crammed into one room like this?”

“We’re having a sleepover!” said Kitty, eager to get back to it. “You should stay! Always room for one more!”

Joan thought on it for a moment. “Ah, hell, why not? I was going to spend a little time tangoing with Sass, but this sounds like a charming way to spend a night! What’s first on the agenda then?”

Kitty pounced, sensing her moment. “There’s so much fun stuff we can do! We can do each other’s hair, we can tell ghost stories, we can talk about boys…”

“I don’t want to be, like, a total bummer,” said Flower, “but I’m pretty sure we can’t do each others hair, man. It just like, resets?” A collective groan went up from the room.

“And any appetite I once possessed for stories of the paranormal I lost upon unceremoniously becoming a part of it.” explained Fanny to another sigh from the room.

“So, what,” said Alison, “we’re just supposed to spend all night talking about men? That doesn’t sound very-”

“Oh!” started Kitty, “I have one! Whose everyone’s hall pass?”

“What the hell is a hall pass?” asked Alberta.

“Alison explained it to me once,” said Kitty, an odd tone of pride in her voice. “It means if you could kiss one person that wasn’t your husband, who would it be?”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t mean kissing, Kitty…” said Sam.

Kitty gasped. “You mean, like, holding hands?” she asked, scandalised.

“Of course Kitty. That’s what it means.” said Alison, nodding.

“For a while I would have said Humphrey Bogart.” said Joan. “Ya know, the strong, silent brooding type? But then I had to do some re-writes on a draft of the Maltese Falcon and sweet Polly Oliver did that man complain about everything! First he wanted more action, then he wanted more speeches. Eventually a gal realises she can do better; I always liked the writers more than the actors anyway.”

“Mine, would be Ronan from Boyzone,” said Kitty, clearly thinking hard. “Or maybe Mark from Westlife? Actually, it’s definitely Nick from the Backstreet Boys. Oh, I don’t know if I can choose!”

“When you’re as in demand as I am,” Alberta boasted, “you don’t have a time for a hall pass. Although now you bring it up, I do regret letting Pretty Boy Floyd pass me by.”

“Whats happened ‘tween you and this Pretty Boyd?” asked Mary.

“Aw, nothin’ really.” Alberta explained. “He kept trying to get me to come along to some kind of thing he was planning. I thought he meant going for drinks until he made the news for hitting banks. That’s the problem with having a thing for bad boys – it’s all fun and games until he’s asking you for another conjugal visit.” Alberta let out a wistful sigh.

“I never understood the whole ‘bad boy’ thing.” said Sam.

“Trust me Samantha, that is not news,” tutted Hetty. “We’ve all seen Jay in action. He’s hardly what you’d call a dangerous specimen now is he?”

“Not unless you’re a portion of fries from Sonic.” agreed Flower.

“Okay girls, ease up on Jay a little.” said Sam, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “He puts up with a lot, especially considering he can’t even see you.”

Alison nodded. “Yeah, I kinda take it for granted how crazy my life is. I can’t imagine what it must be like for Mike, all this stuff going on and all he has is my word for half of it.”

“He does alrights for ‘imself.” Mumbled Mary.

“Now, I understand you two are just head over heels for your gorgeous guys,” said Joan, an accusatory look on her face, “but it feels like you pair are avoiding the question.”

Alison and Sam looked at each other and giggled.

“Alright, alright!” shouted Alison. “If you must know, mine is…” Alison began to turn bright red. “Mine is John Candy.” she finally admitted, to the joy of all assembled. “What? What can I say? I really liked Uncle Buck!”

“What about you Sam?” asked Flower.

“I honestly don’t know if I have one.” she pleaded. A chorus of boos came from the ghosts. “Okay, enough! I guess if I had to pick one it would be… Hugh Jackman? I love a man that can carry a tune.”

“What about you Hetty?” asked Alison, a genuine curiosity in her voice.

“Oh, I am very much NOT the woman to consult on matters of the heart.” she retorted.

“How do you mean?”

“Alison my naive friend, I hesitate to explain to you that the very notion of marrying for love is a tad more recent than you’d think.” Hetty explained, a sad look on her face. Fanny nodded, a visage of true empathy breaking through her normally haughty veneer.

“So you didn’t love Elias?” asked Kitty.

“Sometimes I think I tried to convince myself that I might.” Hetty sighed. “But then of course I’d overhear two of the servants talking about how they’d come across Elias philandering with the girl who delivered the baked goods in the cellar, and that was the end of that.”

“Hey, I remember that!” chimed in Nancy unhelpfully. “He was really giving that chick a pounding! It was the talk of the basement ghosts for weeks!”

“Thank you, Nancy.” hissed Hetty.

“So like, if Elias was giving it every chick he could, why didn’t you do the same?” asked Flower. “There must have been at least of a few hot stable hands you coulda shacked up with.”

Hetty shook her head. “It seems almost quaint to say it aloud, but that simply wasn’t how things were done in my day. Elias doing his sordid business with anything with a pulse was frankly expected. If I’d so much as glanced at another man it would have been a social disaster.”

Fanny stood, crossing the room to sit next to Hetty, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Hetty, grateful, placed her own hand on top.

“I can offer you nothing but my sincere agreement.” said a solemn Fanny.

“You never had the eyes for anyone?” asked Sam quietly.

“Good heavens, no,” said Fanny with a forced joviality. “Much like Hetty here, I was married for money more than anything else.”

“You didn’t love the guy you were with?” asked Alberta.

Fanny took a moment before answering. “No. George and I… we tolerated each other, I suppose. So much of our lives was a performance; the various dinners and social gatherings, the lavish balls and dances. You play a part in a production for long enough and it becomes almost instinctual. That and of course when he pushed me out of a window to my death. That really put a strain on our relationship.”

The room went silent at Fanny’s revelation.

“Wait, actually,” Fanny cut in again, “I did once have a brief flirtation with a young mathematician at a conference in Bristol. So I suppose that would be my pick, if only by default.”

“Living in a cult kinda means you don’t get a hall pass. Kinda seems pointless with the whole free love thing, ya know?” asked Flower.

“So Flower,” asked Alison, “were you all just living together and… you know… doing that? With anyone?”

“That’s one way of putting it, I guess.” Flower replied. “Really, it depends on the cult.”

“You were in more than one?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve been in a few. Some were all about free love, but ya know, some it’s all about praising the leader. Those ones kinda suck, especially if you end up on the leader’s bad side. No amount of drugs can make sleeping outside of the tent a good time.” Flower thought for a moment. “Well, not an amount of drugs you want to be taking on the regular.”

“What about you Mary?” asked Sam, the conversation having become at least marginally more positive.

“Oh noes, truth be tolds, I was lucky to find evens one lad willing to put up with me.” Mary let out a small laugh.

“Actually Mary,” chimed in Alison, “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you about your husband. What was he like?”

“Our John? I’d reckons he be the brightest star in the ‘ole sky.” There came a collective ‘aww’ from the rest of the room. “Oh yes, he was summin’ special. I always remember how much he loved ‘is music. We didn’t haves much music back then, but John was always singin’ and hummin’ and whistlin.’ Everyplace he went, there’s was music.”

“How did you two meet, if you don’t mind me asking?” enquired Hetty.

“It were at a big dance at Bryson farm.” Mary sang. “John coulds have had his pick of the womens, so he could. Big lad, most of ‘is teeths still in, even knews how to read!”

“He sounds… a real catch.” offered Joan.

Mary nodded. “What a sight, seeing John all sheepish like, askings me to dance with his face all red! What a times we had together after that.”

“Sounds like a man who knew how to party!” proclaimed Alberta. “What happened to him then?”

Mary’s face darkened considerably. “One days John was out in the fields, ploughing thems for the ‘arvest. I remembers it ‘cause I was watchin’ him whiles threading up a pair of new shoes.”

“And then what?”

“I looked aways for naught but a moment. Time I looked back he was on the ground. Some kind of ‘orrible accident, I reckons. He was gone by the time I got to ‘im.”

Once again, the room fell silent.

“Man, who’d have thought a sleepover with a bunch of ghosts would be such a downer?” offered a melancholic Flower.

“It’s justs the ways of it, I thinks.” offered Mary. “No points in dwelling on the sadness nows is there? Whenevers times is ‘ard I always ‘ave the thoughts of John. The dancin’ and the music.”

“Quite sagely advice Mary,” said Fanny with a nod. “Of course, not all of us even have the good times to think back on, but nevertheless the point-”

“My hall pass would be Michael B. Jordan!” interrupted Nancy. “Especially if I can get that two time playing twins action, if ya get my meaning!”

“Hetty,” said Alison, eager to steer the conversation away from Nancy’s fantasies, “I couldn’t help but overhear that you’ve… um, started seeing Robin?”

“Oh, she’s doing a lot more than seeing him, I promise you!” said Nancy, much to Hetty’s building resentment.

“I was just sort of wondering how that’s… happened.” Alison concluded.

Hetty, turning an embarrassed shade of scarlet, did her best to keep her composure. “Me and Robin, that is to say, Robin and I, we, um, discovered, through a lovely little chat, that we actually have, hmm, a lot in common.” Hetty let out a shrill sigh.

“I gets it.” concurred Mary. “I always did likes Robin.”

“I guess I’m just a little curious what you two have in common?” asked Sam cheerily.

“You’d be surprised at the depths he contains. For a caveman.” noted Hetty.

“I can vouch for that.” agreed Alison. “For a man wearing exclusively animal fur he’s quite the philosopher.”

“And he plays a devilishly good game of chess.” conceded Fanny.

“Hetty, you don’t gotta justify yourself to any of us!” said Flower, which did little to ease Hetty’s discomfort. “One of the things I realised dating Thorfinn is that sometimes you can’t judge a book by it’s Dane murdering, wolf pee smelling cover.”

“Wait a moment; you and Thorfinn are a couple?” asked an incredulous Kitty.

“Oh yeah, we’ve been going out for a couple of years now! Thor might have a brutish outside but underneath all that he’s really a big softie.”

“You mean, underneath the part of him that tried to murder Alison in cold blood?” asked an unimpressed Fanny.

“Again, Thor did apologize for that. It’s fine!” pleaded Alison. “I’m actually a little surprised that someone so free loving would get with a literal Viking.”

“Don’t get me wrong, there were some hurdles,” explained Flower. “Like, he’s got a real problem when it comes to bloodlust, and to be honest I never really saw myself as a one man kinda girl. But, we’ve made it work. Therapy has done Thorfinn wonders and outside of the occasional Pete threeway we’re pretty exclusive.”

“Hang on,” said Alison, “how does a ghost go to therapy? Does he have a ghost therapist or something?”

“No,” explained Sam, a tired note in her voice, “the therapist is still very much alive. I’ve managed to convince him that the only way to get through to me is to pretend I’m actually a Norse warrior. It’s a shaky system but he’s bought it so far.”

“I’m sure the exorbitant fee helps in that regard.” added Hetty snidely.

“So, are any of the rest of you a couple?” asked Kitty to the room.

“Sass and I are the pair to watch!” said Joan proudly. “Like I said, I always preferred the writers.”

“How are things between you and Sass anyway, Joan?” asked Sam.

“Oh, we’re just fabulous darling! Oh how I love to lay on the grass, gazing up at the stars and having Sass tell me one of his wonderful stories. That, and he ain’t to bad at the two person tango, if you catch a gal’s meaning!” The other women in the room let out performative whoops.

“Trevor and I had a fling for a while.” said Hetty absentmindedly. “Until everyone discovered our little trysts. Without the thrill of running around all we had left was Trevor fumbling around layers and layers of dress.”

“Pete and I pretended to date for a while.” offered Nancy. “He’s a good guy to be fake hooking up with too. Good personality, likes the outdoors. Pretty good guy now I list it.”

“Enough about all that though,” Alberta cut in, “I wanna hear more about Patience showing Pat her dirt hole!”

“Oh yes Patience, tell us!” echoed Kitty.

Patience acted aghast. “I will have you know that what Patrick and myself have is quite innocent!” she protested.

“Oh please,” egged on Alberta, “you don’t gotta pretend with us, Patience! Spill it girl!”

Patience was still somewhat offended, but felt motivated to share more. “If you must know, all Patrick and I did was pay a short, uneventful visit to my humble retreat deep in the dirt.”

“And to be clear,” asked Alison, stifling a laugh, “none of this is a euphemism?”

“Absolutely not!” Patience fired back. “I happen to have a small alcove deep in the grounds which I simply asked Patrick if he would enjoy inspecting. It was a perfectly chaste time, I insist you all know!”

“Well Patience,” Fanny started, “I commend you on having some good clean fun. It’s an all too rare phenomenon these days.”

An agonised look spread across Patience’s face. “Oh, may the lord strike me down for my duplicitous ways!” she shouted. “I must confess to you all now… Patrick and I, we… we… oh it pains me to even say it! We… when we were in the dirt, we… held hands.” Patience threw herself on the ground, much to the confusion of everyone else.

“Patience, no offence, but is that it?” asked Flower in disbelief.

“Yeah,” agreed Alberta, “I was expecting a little more than that.”

“So you will forgive me my lustful indiscretion?” pleaded Patience, tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

“I think you’d have to had one first honey.” reassured Alberta.

Patience lunged across the room, her arms outstretched. An eager Kitty was there to meet her, always happy to be hugged.

“I have to say,” Sam whispered to Alison, “I was kinda expecting this to be a total train wreck, but so far this is going pretty well!” Alison nodded, equally as surprised.

“Actually, Sam, Alison, I gotta question for the two of ya.” said Flower, a sly smile on her face.

Sam and Alison shared a suspicious look, but both nodded.

“Well, just as long as we’re talking dating and relationships…” Flower continued.

“I don’t love where this is going.” muttered Alison.

“If you had to date one of the ghosts, who’d ya pick?”

Alison and Sam both froze up. Alison was immediately taken back to the time she drunkenly confessed to Thomas that she’d have dated him; had the both of them been alive. And she hadn’t met Mike of course.

“Well…” said Alison, her eyes on the ceiling, “there’s just… so many tempting options.”

“Oh yeah,” agreed Sam, equally as stumped. “Who could choose just one?”

“Oh please,” Patience interrupted, “even I can see the pair of you are stalling.”

“Thanks, Patience!” said Sam through gritted teeth.

“I mean, if I had to pick one,” said Alison, shuffling in her seat, “I guess I’d pick Pat?” There were gasps from Mary and Fanny. “Obviously my first pick would have been none. Or Mike. Obviously. But at a shove, yeah, Pat’s a nice guy!” Patience couldn’t help but have a smug grin on her face.

Sam let out a sigh. “You guys have to promise not to let this leave the room.”

The ghosts nodded.

“I guess, if I had to pick… Trevor.”

It was Alberta and Hetty’s turn to gasp. Hetty even let out a shocked “Samantha!”

“What?” Sam countered. “It’s not like anything’s gonna happen! He’s a good looking guy who doesn’t wear pants! You can’t blame a girl for looking!”

Alison and Samantha locked eyes before the two of them burst into deep laughter, with the rest of the women soon joining in.

“Alright, alright, enough about the guys!” said Alison, tears in her eyes from the laughter.

“I know what we should do! We should watch a scary movie!” offered Sam.

-----

“So, what did everyone think of Halloween?” asked Alison to a room full of petrified ghosts.

Kitty, who had spent the last half hour covering her eyes and holding on to an equally terrified Alberta, could only shake her head in response.

“You’re telling me people watch this kind of stuff for FUN?” asked Alberta.

“Yeah man, what was that dudes problem?” asked Flower. “Those teens didn’t do jack to him man!”

“I can’t say I quite had it figured out,” said a confused Joan. “You said this was a horror picture, right? So where was Count Dracula? The Wolfman? Hell, I’d have settled for the Mummy for crying out loud!”

“Is it too late to change my hall pass to Brendan Fraser?” asked Sam.

“I liked it!” said a delighted Patience. “Obviously all the drinking and fornicating wasn’t to my taste, but I did enjoy seeing those sinners face judgement for their sins in the form of this Michael Myers character. Am I to understand there are more of these delightful moving pictures?”

“And that, my fellow ladies,” said Fanny, rising from her chair, “presents the perfect place to call this a night. Can’t say I cared much for the film either. Not enough of a mystery for me.”

“I was always mores of a psychological horror fans meself,” added Mary, “though I liked this well enough.”

Soon, all the various ghosts had left, some in scared pairs, leaving Sam and Alison alone.

“Well,” started Alison, “as much as I can’t get over having to confess to a literal puritan that I’d sleep with her new man, I’d call that a success.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “and I have to hand it Pete, whatever he did to keep the guys busy sure has worked. I haven’t seen any of them all night.”

“You don’t think we should be worried, do you?”

Chapter Text

Mike let out an impressed whistle. “This place is banging, Jay!” he proclaimed.

“Thanks man,” Jay sheepishly replied. “Can’t lie, when I dreamed of having my own restaurant, I didn’t picture it being in a barn attached to a haunted house, but you know, we make it work.”

“How’d you scrounge up the cash for this, if you don’t mind me asking?” said Mike, marvelling at the décor. “Me and Alison are still trying to pay back the loans we took out to fix up the house, let alone opening another business.”

Jay’s face fell slightly. “It’s been… challenging, that’s for sure. Kinda painful to admit this, but we had to borrow money from one of the ghosts.” He let out a weary sigh.

“Can ghosts… have money?” asked an unsure Mike. “Like, I know about the pennies on the eyes thing and all that but I didn’t think that would like, pay off a restaurant or anything.”

“They can when they have the magic touch of T-Money!” boasted Trevor to all of the other assembled menfolk ghosts, who had of course been present the entire time.

“Although,” added Isaac in a smug tone, “I should point out that it was in fact my money he borrowed.”

“And how the hell did you couple of burkes manage to swing enough capital to finance this mess?” asked an increasingly irate Julian.

“Oh, did I not mention the large cash advance Samantha received for writing her hit book about my life?” cooed Isaac, reaching levels of smug previously thought impossible.

“That one where she had to make you vampire to get published?” mocked Thor.

“Was that before or after Sam only got the advance by lying about it on social media?” added Sasappis.

“Alright, alright, I get the point!” Muttered an irate Isaac.

Julian was getting increasingly furious. “Every day I try to convince Alison to let me invest a little money and every time she tells me no!” He threw his hands up. “You make the tiny mistake of telling someone they should invest in Virgin Megastores and suddenly you can’t be trusted! How was I supposed to know CDs weren’t in vogue any more?”

“I thought you were a politician bro?” asked Trevor.

Julian let out a quick cackle. “Charming. Why park yourself in the corridors of power if you can’t use that knowledge to puff out the pockets a little?”

“Isn’t that a crime Julian?” mused Pat. “Pretty sure it’s an explicit offence mate.”

Julian waved down the accusation. “Pish posh! Is really a crime if no-one gets hurt?” A chorus of “yes” echoed out from the other ghosts.

Jay, oblivious to the arguing ghosts, was still showing an equally oblivious Mike around the restaurant. “Honestly, the hardest part of trying to get this thing off the ground was having to listen to all of Isaac’s suggestions.” Jay complained, unaware that Isaac and the rest of the ghosts could hear him.

“What kind of suggestions could a ghost have?” asked Mike, a curious look on his face. “To be honest I’m kind of confused why you had to listen to him in the first place.”

“Is Mike always this anti-ghost?” asked a slightly hurt Pete.

“Only when Alison isn’t around.” explained the Captain. “Although in his defence I don’t think we endeared ourselves to him from the get go. He still bathes with a pair of shorts on, bless him.”

“How do you know that one, mate?” sniped Humphrey. The Captain mumbled a response and turned bright red.

“My guy you have no idea,” Jay started. “Horse pie on the menu, straw on the floor; we held up the opening of this place for months so that the ghost of a soldier could pick his favourite tiles. TILES!”

“I think all of things are perfectly fine suggestions…” grumbled Isaac.

“Okay, so don’t tell Sam,” said Jay, almost whispering. Mike mimed zipping his mouth closed. “But the worst thing was even having to share any of the money with the ghosts at all.”

Mike laughed. “What does a ghost even need money for?” The happy look on his face dropped slightly. “What DO they need money for? Do they have Netflix subscriptions? Do they buy stuff?”

Jay shot his hand out. “Exactly! That’s what I was saying! Like it’s not enough I have to spend most of my time helping out a bunch of dead guys I can’t see, you’d think the least they could do was help a guy out!”

“Oh, I don’t like where this going.” sighed Pete.

Mike nodded along. “At this point I’d settle for just having like, one day that me and Alison could spend together. Alone.”

Mike sank into one of the empty seats, while Jay made his way over from the fridge with two beers. “Got a couple of spooks haunting up your love life?” asked an empathetic Jay.

Mike nodded again. “Could say that. Don’t think they make relationship guides about what to do when there’s a long dead, terrible poet you can’t see trying to get off with your wife.”

All of the ghosts turned to face Thomas, who stood, distressed. “Did he call my work terrible?” he complained.

“He does have a point mate.” chided Pat.

“Excuse me?” fired back an offended Thomas.

“You are rather persistent in your constant pining for Alison.” agreed the Captain.

Thomas was aghast. “What Alison and I share is more than mere pining, my good sir, and I abhor any suggestion to the contrary! The depth and fury of our very mutual love is in fact-”

“Okay, I get what Mike’s saying now.” cut in Trevor. “Take it from me man, you got to get over this crush thing. That’s what I did, and I gotta say, I feel a lot better for it.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” said Jay. “I had a similar problem with no pants- sorry, Trevor.”

“Say what?” said Trevor, turning to face the pair.

“How did you deal with it?” asked Mike.

“To give no pants some credit, he kind of got over her himself.” said Jay. “But then I guess I have to take it away again because he did then immediately try to catfish my sister.”

The Button House ghosts glared at Trevor. “Okay, hold-up.” Trevor started, “first off, nothing happened. If anything, it was good for her! It’s good for women to feel desired.”

Thomas flung his hands up accusingly. “So when I have a perfectly innocent dalliance with Alison, that’s over the line, but this bottomless lech can have a duplicitous affair with Jay’s own sister and that’s fine, IS IT?”

“Calm down there rhyme boy,” said Trevor dismissively. “Keep your curls on.”

Pat put his hand on Thomas’ chest, holding him back.

“Had any other run-ins with the other ghosts?” asked a worried Mike, blissfully unaware of the argument breaking out across the room.

“I mean, there was the time that one of them was meddling with my dreams.” Jay said, to Mike’s distress.

“What’s that all about, this dream stuff?” Mike pressed.

“So, you know about the ghost powers right?” Jay started.

“I’ve heard Alison go on about them. But I thought it was just sort of little stuff, like making weird smells or making the lights flicker.”

“That hurt little.” said an offended Robin.

“But I didn’t think it was as bad as going into your dreams!” continued a paranoid Mike.

Jay nodded, a serious look on his face. “Oh, it gets worse Mike. So, it turns out, one of our ghosts, Sasappis, could go into your dreams, and get this, even put ideas in your head!”

Mike gasped. “Like in Inception!” he offered.

“Now that was an excellent gasp!” cheered Isaac. “You could all learn something from Mike.”

“What did he do?” asked Mike, now fully worried.

“Well, that’s the weird thing, he basically only used it to get me to put in a pizza oven. My man loves the smell pepperoni.”

“Just to be clear here,” grumbled Humphrey, “you have the power to enter people’s minds and you used to smell cured meat?”

“What can I say,” said Sasappis with a shrug, “I really love the smell of pizza.”

“Other than that, I once had to eat a testicle.” offered Jay. “More than once, actually. That’s gotta rank pretty low on the worst things I’ve ever done.”

Mike froze, horrified at the statement. After a painful silence, all he could ask was “Why?” Jay pondered the question for a while. “Man, I don’t even really know. I think it was to get Thor and Flower together.”

“The Viking and the hippie?”

“Yeah.”

“And you eating a testicle was needed for that?”

Jay gazed out, a haunted look on his face. The Button House ghosts were all equally disturbed, but Thorfinn had a warm look of recollection on his face. “Ah, what a night that was.” the Viking reminisced. “Only wish that Thorfinn could have enjoyed taste of delicious testicle himself.”

“The past really is another country…” muttered Julian.

“I think the worst thing is the long silence.” said Mike, a genuine note of sadness in his voice. “You know, when you tell Alison’s talking to the ghosts, and you can’t hear nothing.”

“For me,” offered Jay in sad agreement, “it’s watching Sam react. Sometimes she’ll laugh, or get sad, or annoyed, and I get this feeling like there’s a whole world that I’m not even a part of. Hard not to get a little bummed out, you know?”

The ghosts also went silent.

“I guess I never really thought of it like that.” mused Pete.

“It becomes rather easy to get caught up in all of our antics that I suppose we never appreciate how isolating it must be.” offered the Captain.

“Have you ever seen one?” asked Mike. “One of the ghosts, I mean?”

“A few times.” replied Jay. “You?”

“I think I saw Robin, the caveman, once. That’s about it.”

“Would you want to? Like Alison and Sam can?”

Mike thought on his answer for a while. “Sometimes I think I would. I even went online once, tried to make this potion that let you see ghosts.”

“Did it work? Did it give you the ability to see the dead?” Both Jay and Mike laughed.

“All it gave me was a bad case of diarrhoea.” The pair laughed again.

“Good lord,” exclaimed the Captain. “Did any of you chaps know Michael had gone to such lengths to see us?” All the other Button House ghosts shook their heads.

“But then,” Mike continued, “sometimes I see how mad they make Alison and I think I might be the lucky one. That and obviously I didn’t have to fall out a window and almost die.”

“D’ye think he’s on the money?” asked Pat. “Y’don’t think we’re a pain in Alison’s… er neck do ye?”

“We can be a bit of a handful,” sighed Humphrey, “if you’ll pardon the expression.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” agreed Jay. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s neat that Sam can talk to ghosts but at least I can still visit major cities without having a panic attack.”

Mike sighed. “God I miss the city. You hear that you’re inheriting a big country manor and it sounds really cool but then after a while all you’re left with is no social life and massive heating bills.”

“Tell me about it.” said Jay. “Turns out there aren’t a lot of popular eating spots in rural Upstate New York.”

“Is that why you had to open up your own place?”

“Yeah. After her little accident there was no way Sam was going to last in New York. I looked it up; almost five hundred people die every day in New York, which is a lot when your wife can talk to them. If you thought the living were weird in that city, you should here the stuff Sam says about the dead.”

“I can attest to that.” offered Pete, much to the rest of the Woodstone Ghost’s annoyance.

“Any excuse to bring up his power…” hummed Isaac.

“When I’m out and about,” Pete continued, “ho boy, you should see some of the weirdos I’m running into. I tell you guys, sometimes I think you’re the lucky ones, not being able to leave this place.”

“If I could kill you twice I would.” said Sasappis bluntly.

“Did you never think of commuting?” asked Mike.

Jay shook his head. “I did think about it. But I couldn’t spend all that time away from Sam. I’d miss her too much.”

Mike smiled. He understood completely. “I guess that’s how I feel about the ghosts, at the end of the day. Don’t get me wrong, there’s times when I hate living with a bunch of dead folk but I’d live in Dracula’s Castle if that’s what it meant to be with Alison.”

A single tear welled in Thomas’ eye. “Now that really is poetr-”

“You don’t think vampires are real do you?” asked Mike, thinking of what he had just said.

“God,” replied Jay, “I hadn’t really thought about it honestly. But yeah, if ghosts are real-”

“-If ghosts are real then what if Dracula is real!” finished Mike. “Exactly.”

“And Bigfoot!” added Jay. Mike wasn’t as sure.

“Actually, speaking of myths and monsters, I did have one good time with the ghosts.” mused Jay. “One time, my DnD group kicked me out-”

“Dee and dee?” asked Mike.

“Dungeons and Dragons.” Jay explained. “You never played?” Mike shook his head. “Oh man, it’s awesome, but it takes a few guys to get a sesh going. Anyway, my old group booted me out when Sam and I moved out here, and I gotta tell you it was a huge downer. But Sam had this cool idea to play a game with the ghosts, and it rocked.”

Sasappis and Pete were grinning. “That really was a swell night.” Pete chimed.

“Sounds cool.” agreed Mike.

“It was.” Jay nodded. “But the best part of the whole thing was that for the first time I really felt like I was involved. Like I was in on it.”

“Right.” announced Pat. “Ghost meeting, over ‘ere.” He marched the ghosts away from the pair. “Hope you don’t mind me taking the reins ‘ere, so to speak.” he added bashfully.

“Fire away!” sang Pete. “Always game to hear the words of a senior scoutmaster!”

“You do realise that they can’t hear us anyway right?” asked Sasappis. Pat ignored him.

“So, ‘avin ‘eard all that, I think we need to do summin for Mike and Jay.”

“I concur.” concurred the Captain. “Can’t speak for the rest of us, but I felt jolly rotten listening to those chaps air out those grievances. Least we can do is help.”

“Thorfinn say Pat right.” The Viking took and seat with a heavy sigh. “Very little hurts more than to be ignored. Left behind.” Pete placed a reassuring hand on Thorfinn’s shoulder.

“What do though?” asked Robin. “Not like can go to shop and buy chocolates. Unless they want me to flicker lights until they feel better.”

Thorfinn shook his head. “Afraid not. Not after Thor threaten to burn down Jay barn with sparks.”

“God, when you hear it out loud we really are the worst!” muttered Isaac.

“But alas, that still leaves us with very little we can offer the pair.” sighed Thomas loudly. “Of course, I could compose both of them a sonnet?”

“I think Mike’s made his opinion on your poetry painfully apparent.” laughed Humphrey.

Trevor’s face lit up. “Wait a minute, I just had an idea! Julian, you ready to work those magic fingers buddy?”

“Steady on there mate,” sputtered Julian, raising both his hands defensively. “I appreciate we’re trying to make the lads feel better but there’s some places you just can’t stick a finger!”

Many of the assembled ghosts screwed their faces up in obvious disgust, chief among them Trevor.

“What? Ew no, gross!” Trevor protested. “I mean are you ready to use it type!”

Julian paused for a moment. “Ah.” he bumbled. “Right. Well next time, just say that!”

The Captain could sense a plan was brewing, and was practically vibrating with excitement. “Righto then! First stage is a go! What’s phase two then? Any thing we can do to assist?”

Trevor shot the Captain a manic grin. “Love that energy Hogan’s Heroes but next up is Isaac.” He accompanied his call-out with a finger point. Isaac seemed more confused than excited.

“As much as I love a plan to entertain these two fine young men I can’t really offer anything of note. Unless you’ve discovered that Michael loves horrible odours.”

“No Isaac,” Trevor breathlessly continued, “I need permission, as your; absolutely top notch; accountant to use some of your funds.”

Isaac shook his head. “Trevor, you of all people should know I used the last of my meagre funds to start up this humble eatery.”

Once again Trevor was smiling. “Oh Isaac, you didn’t think I’d let you pour all of your cash in to the famously volatile restaurant business did you? Papa Trev put a nice little five percent into some of my favourite stocks and bonds.”

The Captain was almost in awe. “Magnificent planning there Trevor.”

Isaac was equally taken. “Very impressive. You have my permission.”

Trevor nodded, caught up in his own praise. “Perfect. Step three is all Sass baby.”

“Just happy to be included.” Sasappis admitted. “What do you need from me?”

“Okay so it’s ten fifteen now, so I now we wait for the sleepover to be finished-”

“I’ll stop ye right there,” cut in Pat. “If I know my Kitty, and I most certainly do, there’s zero chance she’s not already counting sheep.”

“Really? At ten?” Trevor asked.

“Oh yeah,” chimed in Humphrey. “It was the only way to get her to get over her fear of the dark, was to have her in bed at last light.”

Trevor gave a fist pump. “Okay, Sass, I need you to get up there and get into Sam’s dream.”

“I don’t know man.” said Sasappis with a meek shake of his head.

“Now hold on Sass,” said Pete, his hands firmly on his hips. “While I would normally give you credit for respecting Sam’s boundaries I have to point out you were in and out of Jay’s dreams like they were an open door!”

“This is different!” protested Sasappis. “I’ve never been in… well… girl dreams before.”

“What are you, a stand comic from the 70’s?” asked an incredulous Trevor. “Sass I love you but I need you to build a bridge buddy and get over this.”

Sasappis didn’t look happy but eventually relented. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

“All you need is to get Sam to open her laptop.” Trevor said firmly. “Julian and I can do the rest.”

-----

Sam and Alison were already at the table the following morning when Jay and Mike limped in from the outside.

“Oi oi,” smirked Alison, “here comes trouble. Good night boys?”

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up!” said Mike, a smile on his face as he sat next to Alison and put an arm around her shoulder. “But yeah, it was fun.”

“I agree,” said Jay, taking his place next to Sam. “Felt good to just talk shop about what it’s like living with a bunch of invisible weirdos you can’t see.”

Sam and Alison went quiet for a moment, both of them staring off to the other side of the table. “Oh no Kitty, I’m sure he didn’t mean you!” Sam said after a while. Mike and Jay shot each other a knowing look.

“How was your night then? How was the sleepover?” asked Jay.

“Oh, it was wonderful!” cooed Sam. “We watched scary movies, we talked about boys, so much fun!”

“Sounds good!” agreed Jay.

“Well, it goes without saying it was the best sleepover I’ve ever been to.” echoed Sam in a self-deprecating tone.

Before either Mike or Jay could ask another question, the conversation was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

“That’s weird.” said Sam. We aren’t expecting any guests for a while. Did you order something Jay?”

Jay shook his head.

“Oh well, I’ll get it.” said Sam, rising from her seat and answering the door, even more confused when she opened the door to the sight of a delivery man holding a heavy package. She returned, leaving it on the kitchen table. “You two didn’t get drunk and order something last night did you?” she asked, her voice an equal mix of questioning and teasing. Alison was quick to join her, casting mock intense looks at the pair.

“Babe,” Jay started, “you know I haven’t been able to get real drunk since we opened this place. Last night I had three beers and fell asleep at the table.”

“And Alison,” Mike jumped in, “ordering stuff when I’m on it was never my style.”

“Yeah fair point,” agreed Alison. “You’ve always been more of a ‘I love you mate’ kind of drinker.”

“It’s just that this package,” Sam explained, “is addressed to the two of you. See there, it says, ‘for Jay and Mike.”

Mike stood and began to tear open the package. Inside was an odd collection of books, costume pieces and all manner of figurines and dice. It was Sam that first began to realise what connected all the
items. “Jay, call me crazy, but is this all…”

“It’s stuff to play Dungeons and Dragons!” Jay finished, a note of sheer delight in his voice. “And this is some real premium loot too! New guide books, high quality dice… just look at the detail on these figures Sam!”

“Look!” said Alison excitedly, “there’s a note.”

Mike took the note, also addressed to himself and Jay, and began to read it aloud. “For Mike and Jay: We know that we can sometimes be a lot, and we really know that sometimes we don’t make it easy for you. To have given up so much; your lives, your friends, your dreams, just to be stuck with a bunch of self centred jerks that you can’t even see. We hope that his gift lets us all be part of something, together. From your ghostly friends.”

Sam and Alison were already in the early stages of tears.

“Have to admit, typing all that out really puts a strain on the old finger.” said Julian, who had been stood quietly in the doorway.

“Although, having another ghost to help you out really makes it so much easier.” added Trevor from the opposite door.

Jay and Mike shared a worried glance.

“Oh no.” hissed Mike, his eyes creeping upward. “That means…”

“The ghosts were there last night!” said Jay, putting his head in his hands.

“Guys, what we said, I really didn’t mean it.” pleaded Mike, unsure of where to direct his voice.

“Yeah, really, we were just blowing off steam.” offered Jay meekly.

“Now now,” said the Captain, shuffling in behind Julian, “tell your boys they have nothing to apologise for.”

Alison and Sam did their best to comfort their respective partners.

“Does that mean they’re here?” asked a nervous Mike.

“And they’re not mad?” asked Jay.

“Far from it.” chimed in Pete, walking through the wall, joined by the group of male ghosts from the prior night. “Last night, Mike and Jay got some stuff off of their chests. Some stuff I think they were right to say.”

“Thorfinn never take time to say thank you for all wild things that Jay do for us. Ashamed to say never really thought about it.”

“Likewise,” said a solemn Thomas, “all of us are equally as guilty of ignoring poor Michael.”

“It’s easy to think that just because we can’t speak to ‘em means we aren’t big parts of their lives.” said Pat.

“And last night, we overheard Jay remembering the time some of us sat down to play this delightful role playing game together. And while I do recall that some of us were more enthused than others…”

Sam averted her eyes.

“And I thought,” said Trevor, eager to jump in, “well the least we could do was use some of Isaac’s book money to get him a little something nice.”

Alison put her hands over her heart. “Aw, you guys, that’s so sweet!”

“But why did you buy two sets of everything?” asked Sam, holding one of the player guides up and inspecting it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Trevor. “We got two gals who can talk to ghosts right? So that means…”

“Two games!” said Jay, already clued in to Trevor’s plan.

Chapter Text

“Oh great…” Sam grimaced. “Two games. Double the fun.”

“Aw c’mon Sam,” said Pete, grinning from ear to ear, “I know you didn’t have the most fun last time we did this but I really think we’re cooking with gas here!”

“I think it looks like fun!” proclaimed Kitty.

“Kitty, you think everything seems like fun.” sighed Fanny.

“How does all of this business work exactly?” asked a curious Captain. “I heard mention of it being some kind of game? I do have to admit, I am awfully good at a round of Twister.”

“As much as I’d love to see that in action,” said Isaac, perking up, “it isn’t that kind of game.”

“More like Monopoly then? Checkers perhaps? Baccarat?” tried the Captain.

“Maybe if Monopoly took place in an expansive fantasy land limited only by the depths of your own imagination! And maybe if checkers allowed you to weave your own epic stories of fantastic heroes on dangerous quests!” explained Pete with a chuckle, which was shared by no-one else.

The Captain was only further confused by this description. “So… not quite like Monopoly then?”

“Jay,” Sam said, a look of sympathy for the Captain all over her face, “maybe you should be the one to explain all this.”

Jay’s face lit up. He was in his element. “With pleasure, babe! In front of us, we have two of the most popular TTRPGs right now.” Jay illustrated his point by placing his hands on the two sets in front of him and pushing them forward. “Now, I know what everyone’s thinking; what does TTRPG stand for?” Well, let’s break it down…”

“Feels like we’ve made a mistake here lads…” drawled Humphrey.

“Table top role playing games!” Jay continued, blissfully unaware of the ghost’s criticisms. “Now, the table top stuff speaks for itself – and don’t think you have to limit yourself to just playing on a table!” It was Jay’s turn to be only one laughing at a joke.

“Good grief.” muttered an unimpressed Fanny. A supportive Hetty simply took her hand in quiet agreement.

“Now, the RPG?” Jay blazed through, “that’s where the real interesting stuff is; it stands for ‘role playing game.”

“Role play?” cut in a suddenly very interested Julian. “Now we’re talking. What’s the angle then? Naughty schoolboy spanked by his teacher? Busty milkmaid and the gruff farmhand? Always wanted to try out the astronaut and the greengrocer-”

“It’s not that kind of role play man.” said Trevor with a hand across the neck gesture, much to Julian’s immense disappointment.

“Although that is the sort of imagination that will really serve you well!” praised Pete.

“The astronaut and the greengrocer?” whispered an intrigued Alberta to Mary, who simply shrugged in response.

“How am I doing Sam?” asked Jay, “are the ghosts still listening?”

Sam nodded meekly. “Every word.” She lied.

“So basically,” continued an even more enthusiastic Jay, “imagine a game where the only limit is your own imagination!” finished Jay with an over the top wave of his hands.

“That’s what I said!” beamed Pete with an obvious pride.

“And the best part” said Jay, almost overcome with excitement, “is that we have two awesome games to choose from! Way to pick a couple of hits here, my ghost guys!”

“Knew that picking two of them was the best move.” boasted Trevor.

“So what are the games anyway?” asked Mike, staring at both of the sets with curiosity.

“We’ve got Dungeons and Dragons here,” started Jay, “and this one is Starfinder. Basically, on one hand we’ve got your standard fantasy setting and on the other we’ve got something with a little more sci-fi flavour.”

“That it?” said Julian, his tone decidedly unimpressed. “All that to basically pretend we’re either in Willow or ruddy Star Trek? Count me out.”

“Well I think it sounds rather jolly!” countered the Captain. “Always did enjoy a bit of the old war games.”

“I must also admit to being a tad intrigued,” said Hetty, to the surprise of all assembled. “I did always have a fondness for the odd fantasy story, now and then. And from what I can gather this assembly with allow us to become active participant in one?”

“So, who’s in?” asked Jay, looking around the room for a raising of hands he could not see.

“Well count me in!” chirped Pete.

“As a writer myself,” proclaimed Thomas to a collective sigh, “I am afraid I cannot partake in anything that might dirty the free flowing waters of my own creative process.”

Sasappis let out an even heavier sigh. “Aw crap. I guess that means I’m out as well. And I was really looking forward to this too!”

“’Fraid I’ll ‘ave to bow out as well.” said Pat. “Promised someone else a little of my time.”

“Tell the scary puritan we said hi!” joked Humphrey.

“Bloody grass!”

“As much as I’d have loved to have stuck around to partake in this childish folly, I’m afraid that Isaac and I have a prior engagement.” sneered Fanny.

“Going to have a little gossip are you?” chuckled Humphrey.

Fanny thought on her response for a moment. “Yes. We are. Care to join us?”

“Might as well.” Humphrey mused. “Lost a lot of my love for adventures, pretend or otherwise, when I lost the rest of meself.” Isaac picked up the bemused head, and the ghosts with other plans made their way out.

“So, how many ghosts we got left?” asked Jay, beaming.

Sam let out an exaggerated sigh. “Too bad babe, it looks like none of the ghosts want to play…”

“What do you mean?” asked Alison. “There’s loads of them. We’ve definitely got enough for both games,” she explained, unaware of the dark look Sam had on her face.

“Sam’s never really been a fan of role playing games.” Pete muttered.

“Hey, no fair!” Sam snapped back. “It’s just that these things take so long to play! And all I ever get to do is relay what’s going on! I’m basically a half rate narrator!”

“Actually, Sam,” Jay explained, “if we’re playing two games, that’s going to mean that we need two game masters. Obviously, I’ve got the fantasy stuff on lock – you know your man spins a mean epic-”

“Agreed!” clapped Pete.

“-but that means I need someone else to look after group two. Someone who knows how to write a good story. If only I knew an extremely creative published author who could help me out…”

Sam’s expression softened. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it, but only because of the flattery. What do we have to do?”

Jay clapped his hands together in glee. “So first, we have to split the ghosts up. One group can do Dungeons and Dragons and the other can do Starfinder.”

“I wanna do the sci-fi one!” said Mike, rushing in. “I always wanted to be Han Solo.”

“He has.” agreed Alison. “Alright then, I’ll do the fantasy one.”

“If Alison’s doing the fantasy one then that’s what I’m doing!” announced Kitty. “Oh how fun, we can both be princesses from far off kingdoms!”

“No chance Kitty, I want to be like, a cool warrior! I want to be the girl version of Conan the Barbarian!”

“Red Sonja.” corrected Mike, Pete and Trevor at the same time.

“Red Sonja.” echoed Alison.

“Oh, I totally wanna be a princess!” said Flower. “Although I also want to do the space thing. Do you get, like, space princesses?”

“I don’t see why not?” answered Sam.

“Cool man. Then I’m gonna be a space princess.”

“If Flower is to be space princess, then Thor demand be powerful space warrior!” boomed Thorfinn.

“I must say, I like all this talk of space and whatnot!” chirped the Captain. “Do you think they have fighter pilots in space? Always fancied a go in one of the those war planes but I never got the chance!”

“Okay,” said Jay, unaware of the conversation happening around him, “if everyone knows what game they wanna play, next move is coming up with everyone’s character!”

“Way ahead of you Jay!” said Sam with a smile.

“Excellent! So let’s say we all take a little bit to hash out our characters, our backstories, our classes, and then we do this thing?”

-----

Group One: The Dungeon Raiders

Jay sat, visibly excited, at the end of the dining room table. Sat around the impressive oak furnishing were Alison, Pete, Alberta, Hetty, Robin and Kitty, each with their own character sheets in front of them.
Jay began his narration in the most impressive voice he could muster. “The five of you sit around a creaky table inside a vibrant and busy tavern-”

“Now hold on a minute,” Hetty blustered, “no-one mentioned anything about being seen in a common drinking hole! What am I, some kind of servant girl?” Alison declined to pass her objection on.

“Each of you has been summoned here for the same reason. A darkness has infected this world. From deep wounds carved into the very landscape, an infection has spread, consuming every person, creature and life it comes in contact with. Rumour has it that a powerful, dark entity is responsible. The six of you have one task; to slay this entity and bring peace to the land.”

“Oh, he very good!” applauded Robin. Alison did in fact share this interruption with Jay, who was delighted.

“Aw thanks Robin!” he said with pride. “Anyway, at this point, we normally go around the room and introduce ourselves.”

“Hello! I’m Kitty!”

“He means, introduce our characters, Kitty.”

“Oh!”

“Alison, do you want to go first? Just because, you know, you’re the only one I can see.”

“Um, yeah, I can.” she replied, more nervous than she thought she would have been. “So I’m Alison, obviously, but tonight Matthew…” she held for a laugh that never came. “Oh right. You don’t have Stars in Your Eyes over here. Anyway I’m Alsor, a barbarian from the desert lands.”

A round of impressed oohs came up from the ghosts.

“Keep going Alison.” Jay encouraged. “Tell them some more.”

“I’m dressed in animal pelts, you know, like bear and wolf skins? I’m tall. Like eight feet tall. I’ve got a big axe, hammer thing. Both actually. It’s both. Scary face. Covered in war paint. Muscley.” She stopped for a while. “Oh, and I can turn into a big monster thing, but I don’t know if you’re all meant to know that.”

Kitty began to applaud again, this time joined by Pete. “Way to describe Alison! You really know how to paint a picture!” he praised.

“Nicely done Alison!” Jay unknowingly agreed. “Pete, you wanna go next?”

“Thought you’d never ask!” Pete cheered. “My name is Percival Nightshade. A former ranger, who used to walk in the light, I now carve a path through the darkness! Draped in a black cloak, armed with only a worn down bow and a single blade, I will not rest until I hunt down the dark forces that killed my family and destroy them!”

“Oh c’mon Pete, yours was way better than mine!” Alison grumbled, half seriously, after cluing in Jay.

“Even I must admit, Peter, that was an uncharacteristically compelling description.” admired Hetty.

“Never doubted you for a minute, Pete.” whispered Jay. “Alberta, how about you?”

“The name’s Casey “The Comet” Cassidy! I’m a prize fighter, fresh out of a run in a travelling carnival! The man I was fooling around with got sick with this darkness stuff and now I’m gonna avenge him the only way I can – with my goddamn fists of fury! And if you gotta know how I’m dressed all you have to know is that I’m wearing a champions belt and I got the sort of muscles to back it up!”

“Hell yeah, Alberta!” said Jay, after Alison had relayed her character to him. “Hetty, you want to try?”

“Vivi, formerly one Lady Genevieve. I was once part of this society’s upper echelon, but after talking the fall for the crimes of my philandering husband, I have been forced to live in the slums, and have thus reforged myself into a hardened assassin, operating from the shadows and striking at my targets with deadly precision. Frankly, the only reason I’m here at this wretched gathering is because I suspect that this blight is the work of the rich and powerful and I will take any opportunity to strike back at them.”

The crowd went silent.

“Hetty, I don’t want to lean on this too much but your character feels a little… personal?” asked a worried Alberta.

“Well of course it is Alberta, I came up with her.” Hetty said, waving her hand din dismissal.

“It’s just, Hetty” Pete added, “some of the details, well, it kind of seems, I don’t know, therapeutic? Maybe?”

“Peter I simply don’t understand what you mean.”

“Okay then,” cut in Alison nervously, “moving on! Kitty, let’s hear yours!”

“Oh my god yes finally I’m so excited! My name is Layla Starlight, the best dancer in all the land, and I’m actually really famous and everyone knows who I am! And I was in the middle of a really good tour, showing off all cool moves when I discovered that I actually have magic powers! So then obviously I had to stop being a famous dancer and fight the evil stuff that’s happening. I’m dressed in a sparkling dress with a sparkling hat and shiny sparkling boots.” Kitty finally took a breath, despite not really needing to. Alison struggled to match her pace when passing it on.

“I like it Kitty!” said Alberta. “I was also thinking about doing a kind of magic songstress thing with mine but then I thought, why do it in the game when it’s already true in real life!”

“And that just leaves Robin!”

“Me Moon Wizard. Big magic guy. Power come from moon. Might be from moon. Wear purple cloak, look smart.”

“Concise, Robin.” cooed Hetty. “I like it. Why bother with anything else when you can get to the point?” Robin nodded in enthusiastic agreement, and Alison gave Jay a thumbs up.

“Alright! Now that we’ve got all set up, we can really get started! So, like I said, all six of you meet in a warm, inviting tavern…

-----

Group Two: The Voyagers Among the Stars

Sam sat in the middle of the TV room’s comfy couch, wherein a few chairs had been pulled in to assemble a crude seating circle. Gathered around her sat Flower, Thorfinn, The Captain, Mike and finally Mary.

“So,” Sam began, “just so I’m being super honest with everyone, this is actually my first time leading one these games, so as much as I’m sure we’re all rearing to go I have to ask that you give me a little time just in case something goes wrong.”

“Hey Sam, don’t sweat it.”Flower reassured her, “I’m sure you’ll do fine. If it’s anything like leading a drum circle you just gotta get everyone in the groove and then it’ll be cool!”

Thorfinn nodded in agreement. “When Thorfinn first in charge of war party, I used to imagine everyone naked. Much easier to imagine how easy it is to kill someone when imagine them with no armour.”

“Thanks Thor!” Sam said in an overly enthused manner. “I’ll keep that in mind!”

“I thinks as longs as we has fun then alls well!” reassured Mary.

“Quite right Mary!” agreed the Captain. “Although I must say, I was rather perplexed to see you agree to this little escapade, doubly so that you’d commit yourself to this science fiction hullabaloo!”

“Wells, I did thinks of being part of the other group but then I was thinkings more on it and to be quites truthful all thats fantasy stuffs sounds a little muches like my own life.” Mary explained. Thorfinn shot out his arm in agreement.

“Sorry Mike,” Sam started, “just settling some ghost stuff and then we’ll get on with it.”

Mike, who was looking around the room, shook his head. “Don’t stress it Sam, I’m used to it.”

“I think we’re all ready anyway,” Sam replied. “So, Jay was telling me that I basically have to set up the plot, and then we all go around and introduce ourselves.”

“What, like an AA meeting?” asked Flower.

“Yeah, I guess!” said Sam, amused at the comparison.

“And thens after that we gets pulled in to the games?” asked Mary with a hint of worry.

“It’s like playing pretend with more rules basically.” Trevor explained, before catching himself. “Or, you know, so I’ve heard. From nerds.” This summary seemed enough for Mary, who nodded.

“Okay, perfect!” said Sam, slapping her hands on to her knees. “So, I came up with a little story, , I hope you like it, and it goes like this. The depths of space. Thousands of years in the future. The six of you find yourself in an intergalactic prison, reserved only for the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy. Each of you is here because you’re all a threat to the Society, an all powerful dictatorship that rules over this sector of space with an iron fist!”

Applause broke out from the ghosts. “How exciting!” raved the Captain.

“Well Captain,” said Sam, enjoying the applause immensely, “why don’t you start us off by introducing your character? And Mike, I’ll just fill you afterwards.” Mike gave her a curt nod in response.

“Very well then,” said the Captain, straightening up, “allow me to introduce myself! My name is Dashing Jack Packard, ace spaceship pilot extraordinaire! First in my class in space pilot academy, I’m now free to patrol the space ways, soaring through the solar system in my ship, the Howling Havers, fighting evil doers wherever I encounter them! Huzzah!”

“Okay so no offence,” said Trevor, “I was kinda expecting your guy to be kinda lame but honestly my dude that rocked! Up top!” Trevor and the Captain shared a high five, much to the Captain’s delight.

“Trevor, you want to go next?” asked Sam, eager to keep the momentum going.

“Okay so as hard as that’s going to be to top, check this out; Dan Rodgers, a genius, guitar playing, quarterback of ladies man from the hip 80’s finds himself transported to the far future by some kind of alien tech thing. Now he’s gotta rely on all his skills from when he was Earth to get back home! Also, he’s super handsome. I kind of thought that was implied but I really gotta emphasise that. He’s got a sick denim jacket too, and rockin’ shades.”

“No offence Trevor,” said Sam, about to cause offence, “but that just kinda sounds like Flash Gordon.”

Trevor bristled at the observation. “Agree to disagree. Flash Gordon never travelled in time, thank you very much. And he was blonde. Dan Rodgers has sleek black hair.”

“So you have seen Flash Gordon then?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“You do that. Mary, how about you go next?”

“Alrights then. So whens I was havin’ all the rules and such of this games explains to me, I noticed that ones of the options was to be a fully machines man, or womans as bes the case ‘ere. So I reckons thats what I wanna be. M-1, a machine that does fixing on other machines. Theys don’ be trustin’ any others who not be a machines neithers. I be thinking that theres summin’ wrong with her robot brains y’see, and thats why she can do things on her accords, not like all these other computers that need a person to ‘elp ‘em work. Does that make sense?”

An impressed mutter went around the assembled ghosts. Even Mike was taken aback when it was explained to him.

“Honestly Mary I don’t think I’d have guessed you’d be the one to try for a robot, but way to go for it!” admitted Sam, causing Mary to blush. “Flower, how about you?”

“So at first I totally wanted mine to be like a princess, but like, an elf, but also from space. But then, I thought, y’know, what if she used to be a princess, but then she gave it all up man? Back when I was studying to be a lawyer, one of the guys in my class dropped out to be a Buddhist, which was totally chill, so I kinda wanted something like that. So my gal is former Princess, now just regular cosmic coach surfer Zora, who used to be second in line for the throne of what she thought was a totally cool royal family, until one day she finds out that her folks, the king and queen, are actually real bummers when it comes to stuff like not enslaving other kingdoms. So she just bails, going on the run and trying to use her psychic abilities to help out people where she can.”

“Wow,” admired Sam, “all of these are so creative! What about you Thorfinn, what did you come up with?”

“Thorfinn’s creation mighty warrior called Havoc. Use many space guns and laser swords to defeat his foes! Wear powerful space armour.”

“Real original, big guy.” mocked Trevor. “Take you a while to think that one did it?”

“Took most time to think up name. Was going to just call him Finnthor but Flower think maybe too on nose.”

Sam grimaced. “And that’s it? Nothing else?” she tried.

Thorfinn’s face lit. “Wait! He also half crocodile and half shark. And half man.”

“Well, that’s something!” said Sam.

“Try to think of most dangerous animals Thor had heard of.”

Sam gave him a wearied two thumbs up. “Great job, Thorfinn. I’m sure we can do something with a crocodile shark man with a load of guns.”

“Thorfinn agree.”

“So Mike, that just leaves you. What have you got?”

Mike stood, evidently proud of his creation. “Right, so imagine like a cross between like a cowboy and James Bond. But in space. A bounty hunter by trade. Name of Max Titan.”

“He’s just going to be Han Solo isn’t he?” asked Trevor.

“He’s a sort of cool customer, yeah, but he also has a sort of like, rough-ish charm about him.” Mike continued.

“Sam, you can’t kvetch about me gracefully copying from elements of Flash Gordon if he’s just going to copy Han Solo.” Trevor huffed.

“At first, he seems like he doesn’t care, like he’s just in for the money, but underneath it all he’s got a lot of heart.” Mike described, placing a hand over his own heart as demonstration.

“Oh c’mon Sam he might as well be quoting dialogue at this point! Is he going to reveal he hangs about with a wookie next?”

“And he wears a cool vest.”

Trevor folded his arms in not so silent protest.

“He woulds suit a vest, now he says it.” noted Mary.

“Did the ghosts like that?” asked Mike with a grin.

“They all loved it Mike.” lied Sam shakily. “And now that we’re all caught up, let’s get back to the story, shall we? So, you all find yourselves in a prison cell…

-----

“Having made each other’s acquaintance, you now must decide where to go on your quest to stop the blight infesting the land.” Jay finished.

“Is that it?” asked Hetty. “We don’t even get a starting instruction?”

“That’s the fun in it Hetty, is that you get to make your own starting instructions.” said Pete, beaming.

“By that notion do you think that snakes and ladders would be more fun if every player simply traipsed across the board in any direction?” Hetty sneered.

“That actually does sound like a novel way to shake up the snakes and ladders experience Hetty, thank you!” Pete fired back.

“Alright, alright!” said Alison, trying to keep the game from falling apart at the first hurdle. “Maybe this is a bit too ordinary, but surely if we want to know what’s going on we’d be best to ask the barman? I mean, if we’re in a pub there’s got to be someone pouring the drinks, right?”

“Great thinking Alison!” declared Kitty. “I knew you’d be good at this!”

“Thanks Kitty. I do that then, I approach whoever’s behind the bar and ask where we can all find this blight stuff.”

“You approach the bar,” Jay began, “where a gruff dwarf is scrubbing an empty stein. You ask him about the recent darkness that has fallen on the land and he tells you that the source of the scourge is from the west.”

“Alright then!” cheered Alberta, “now we know where we’re heading! Let’s head out west and sort this stuff out!”

Alison relayed the instruction. “Before any of you can leave the tavern,” Jay quickly whispered, “A CORPSE IS THROWN THROUGH THE WINDOW!” Kitty gasped.

“I inspect the corpse!” announced Pete.

“Pete – I mean Percival – inspects the corpse!” Alison echoed.

“The corpse is riddled with a blood coloured infection. While the impact of being thrown through the window is what finished them off, this unlucky fellow was already dying.” Jay explained.

“I rush outside to meet whatever did this face to face!” demanded Alberta.

“We all do!” joined Alison. “Don’t we?” she asked the ghosts, who nodded. “We all run outside!”

“You race out of the tavern,” Jay said in a frantic tone, “and find yourself in a homely town square, face to face with a hulking, monstrous troll!”

“Oh no!” cried Kitty.

“You observe that the creature is also infected with the blight, as massive growths infect one side of it’s colossal body.”

“Alright guys,” Pete explained in a hushed tone, I think we ought to think about our next move carefull-”

“I run up and punch it as hard as I can!” roared Alberta.

“Casey punches it!” Alison similarly roared at Jay.

Jay rolled his dice. “Casey charges up the creature and shoots a powerful punch directly into the troll’s side!” he cried. “Unfortunately, her fist gets stuck right in one of the blighted sores!”

Alberta let out a genuine scream. “It what!?”

“I knew we should have thought this through!” Pete said, a stressed hand already on his forehead.

“You guys, help me!” Alberta pleaded.

“Moon Wizard start to pray.” Robin noted flatly.

“You what?” asked a confused Alison.

“Pray.” Robin repeated. “Pray to moon.” Alison, despite not really getting it, told Jay, who was equally as confused.

“Okay, so Moon Wizard begins to pray.”

“Pray to moon!” Robin noted.

“Alright then, no thanks to the moon guy!” Alberta hissed. “Hetty, you gotta help me out here!”

“I abandon the party.” Hetty said, coldly.

A collective “what?” came out from the rest of the ghosts, save Robin.

“You’re abandoning me ALREADY!?” Alberta spat.

“Hetty we’re literally five minutes into the game!” Pete pleaded.

“As I said, I abandon the party to their fate.” Hetty repeated. Alison dejectedly told Jay. “Vivi leaves the party, disappearing down a dark alley.” he mumbled.

“Alison please you gotta get me out of this!” Alberta cried out.

“I use my big axe thing!” Alison blurted out. “Like, I swing it down on the infected part, cut her arm free!”

“Oh please do not let me lose an arm!” Alberta begged to no-one in particular. “I can’t be a champion boxer if I lose my fists!”

Jay rolled the dice, the outcome unseen behind his decorated plastic sheet.

“Success!” he finally shouted. “You successfully cut Casey free!”

“Way to go Alison!” Alberta cheered.

“Although the infection is still attached to Casey’s arm, and the troll is still alive, and is now really pissed off.” Jay added.

“Oh damn it!”

“I use my well worn yet powerful bow, drawing several deadly arrows at once and aiming straight and true for the snarling troll’s ugly head!” Pete roared.

“Percival shoots the thing in the face!” Alison summarised, to Pete’s disappointment.

Another dice roll.

“Success! Your arrows hit the troll in the face, with one of them blinding it in one eye!”

Pete pumped his fist in victory.

“The troll, now enraged and blinded, swings wildly, striking Alsor with a powerful strike and knocking her across the square!”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Kitty. “I use my dance powers to draw the beast’s attention!”

“Layla does a dance to distract the troll monster!”

“Triumphant success!” cheered Jay. “Your dance captivates the creature, drawing its focus entirely on you.”

Hetty leaned forward decisively. “With the creature distracted, I leap from a nearby rooftop, landing on the creatures neck and plunging a dagger into its skull.” Alison repeated the instruction to Jay in a tone close to quiet reverence.

“Okay so full disclosure,” Jay started, “normally I’d tell you that what you’re doing right now is probably too many moves but man does it sound awesome, so I’m going to allow it.” He rolled his dice. “Another success. You send the dagger deep in to the creature’s skull, wounding it for massive damage. It falls to the ground, dead.”

“Way to go Hetty!” cheered Pete. “I never doubted you for a second!”

“I did.” muttered Alberta.

“So is that it?” asked Alison. “Did we win?”

“Well,” Jay replied, “you managed to kill the troll, yeah, but Casey’s hand is still infected and your gal is pretty messed up from getting knocked into a wall.”

“No worry about that.” Robin happily boasted.

“Oh, finally moon rocks for brains has something to say!” hissed Alberta.

“Yeah Robin, you weren’t exactly helpful there.” agreed Alison.

“Me help now.” Robin said, still blissfully unaware of how annoyed the rest of his party were. “Me call on moon to heal you.”

“Robin says he calls on the moon to heal us.” Alison told Jay, in a tone that suggested that even in a world of fantasy she didn’t believe this would work. Jay didn’t roll the dice before simply stating; “oh yeah, that’ll work. A bright white light shines from Moon Wizard’s hands, healing Alsor of her wounds and reducing the blight on Casey’s hands to dust. The party gathers itself and marches toward the west.”

Robin wiggled his brow smugly. “Moon power. Real good.”

-----

“So, as I said, you all find yourself in a prison cell.” Sam concluded.

“What, like the same cell?” asked an incredulous Flower. “That doesn’t seem very secure.”

“Yes Flower you’re in all the same cell.” Sam sighed.

“So it’s like a drunk tank?” asked Trevor.

“Sure.”

“Cans machines men gets drunk?” asked Mary.

“Guys, this is going to take even longer if you question every part of the story. So, once again, you’re all in the same, expansive prison cell.”

“Havoc use his many weapons to smash door of cell!” roared Thorfinn.

“Well, no Thorfinn,” Sam said, “you don’t have your weapons, because you’re in jail.”

“Havoc would not allow puny wardens to take his weapons!” Thorfinn shouted defiantly.

“Well, they have!” Sam shouted back.

“Okay,” said Trevor sarcastically, “we can all be in the same cell because I guess it's easy for the story but none of us gets to keep our guns? Sure thing Sam.”

“I will end this game right now Trevor!” she warned.

“Is there any chance we could simply break down the door?” asked the Captain, trying his best to be helpful.

“No dice. The things too heavy, and the lock is machine operated.” Sam explained.

“I has it!” exclaimed Mary. “I asks the door, from machines to anothers, if it will lets us out.”

“Okay, Jay said if one of you does something like this I should roll a dice…” Sam muttered absent-mindedly to herself.

Trevor was doubtful. “There’s no way a door is just going to open because you ask it-”

“Success!” Sam interrupted. “The computer that operates the door is so touched by your plight that it opens for you!”

“-okay so I was wrong.”

“Well done Mary!” said the Captain. “Capital idea!”

“Not so fast!” warned Sam. “The opening the door has caused the prison’s alarm to go off! Guards are already heading toward you!”

“Oh man, we got to get outta this place!” pleaded Flower.

“Do we know where they’re keeping our stuff?” asked Mike. “Feel like I kinda want to get my gun back.”

“Mike’s right!” declared the Captain. “We’ll not be a very effective unit without our armaments!”

“Havoc lead way! Follow me, puny non shark folk!” Thorfinn bellowed.

“Do you even know where the armoury is?” Sam asked. “You know what it doesn’t matter; you charge down the corridor toward where all your items are kept! But oh no, the room is guarded by four armoured troopers! What do you do?”

“Havoc pick up much smaller Dan Rodgers and hurl him at guardmen!” Thorfinn roared.

“What!” protested Trevor. “You can’t just use me as a human baseball! Can he Sam?”

Sam rolled the dice. “He can, it turns out. You throw Dan at the guards, successfully toppling three of them over! Watch out though, because the fourth one goes to draw his gun!”

“I punch the dude in the face!” offered Trevor.

“Critical fail!” Sam said, to the frustration of the group. “You miss the punch and end up crashing to the floor!”

“You gotta be kidding me!” said Trevor with an annoyed flick of his hand.

“I kick the last guard!” shouted Mike. “I do a big Chuck Norris roundhouse kick!”

“Success! You kick the guard square in the face and knock him out!” The news was met with delight from all except Trevor.

“So all we have to do now is open the door and we retrieve our gear?” asked the Captain.

“I’m afraid it won’t be so easy!” warned Sam. “You find yet another heavy locked door, with this one set up to prevent anyone from hacking it!”

Only Trevor and Mike seem to react.

“Oh right.” Sam realised. “Hacking is what we call it when… uh… when machines talk to each other.” Gasps from the rest of the group.

“Then we shall perish in this terrible prison!” howled a defeated Thor.

“No, wait!” offered Flower. “One of these dudes guarding the door has to know the code right? Well, then, I got an idea.” She turned to Sam. “Are any of these goons still conscious?”

“One of them, sure.”

“In that case, I use my psychic powers on him!”

“Sharp thinking Flower!” mused Trevor. “Just each in to this guy’s mind and pull out the code-”

“I wanna find the name of someone in his family.” Flower hissed with devious intent.

A collective “what?” came up from around the table, all save for Mike, who was currently on his phone.

“What do you mean Flower?” asked a worried Sam. “I kinda just thought you were going to do what Trevor suggested, no?”

“Does this guy have a sister? A mother maybe?” asked Flower.

Sam was getting more worried by the second. “Uh… sure. He has a sister, I guess?”

“Coolio. I turn to the guy and tell him if he doesn’t unlock the door right now I’m going to send a couple of my royal guards to get his sister.”

Sam recoiled at the request. “Oh my god Flower!”

“So like, does he do it?”

“I mean, yeah, he does, but what the hell?”

“I used to see it all the time in the cult.” she explained, rather too cheerily. “When people were going to split on the group the standard move was threatening the family. Works every time.”

Trevor, the Captain and Mary were bunched together, trying to put as much distance between themselves and Flower as possible. Thorfinn was enchanted.

“Okay, so,” Sam stammered, trying to keep her cool, “the guard unlocks the door to the room, allowing you all to retrieve your various pieces of gear.”

“VICTORY!” boomed Thorfinn.

“Where’s wes goin’ next then?”

“Well if we got our stuff back then I think the best bet is trying to get a ship and to get the hell out of here.” said Trevor.

“Very good!” agreed Thorfinn. “We must retrieve a star boat and make our escape.”

“Okay man I have heard you use the word ship before!” said Trevor.

“Okay, so is everyone cool with aiming to steal a ship?” asked Sam. “Mike, that sound good!”

“Oh yeah, totally.” said a surprised Mike. “It’s so weird when the room goes quiet and then boom! Turns out a bunch of stuff has happened.”

“Should I ask my guard friend where they keep the ships?” offered Flower.

“No!” said Sam, rather quickly. “He, uh, offers the information to you. Freely.”

“Rad!”

“You all make your way to the hanger, but before you can reach it you find the path blocked by another regiment of armed soldiers!”

“Havoc unleash the full fury of his arsenal against them!” howled Thorfinn.

“Critical success! You strike down the first few guards, killing two and causing the others to flee in abject terror!”

“Haha! FEAR THE WRATH OF HAVOC, PATHETIC GUARD MEN!” The Viking roared in triumph.

“I have got to remember this for the next time he gets a little too blood thirsty.” Sam mused to herself. “You find yourself in a massive hanger, filled with all manner of spaceships of a number of shapes and sizes. However, you find yourself drawn to one craft in particular – the Howling Havers, parked in the middle.”

“Bloody good, that’s my ship!” declared the Captain with pride. “I suggest we all rush onboard then, post-haste!”

“You all rush inside the state of the art craft.”

“I take my rightful place at the controls, and kick the old boy into action!” the Captain said.

“The ship’s engines come to life, but you cannot take off because they’ve moored the ship with some kind of laser… thing!”

“Blast it all!” The Captain swore.

“I’ll do it.” announced Mike. “I’ll go out and turn off the laser, uh, thing, that’s keeping us here.”

“So braves!” muttered Mary.

“Max Titan runs down the ramp, blindly firing out into the now large crowd of guards trying to prevent your escape!” Sam breathlessly narrated. She rolled the dice. “Oh no! There’s too many of them! Max is able to fend some off but there’s too many for him alone!”

“I run out and help him!” Trevor shouted.

“Havoc too!” Throfinn declared.

“Be careful chaps!” warned the Captain.

Another dice roll. “There’s still too many of them, even for the three of you to take out!”

“Is theres nothing in that room thats I cans do my machines speaks with?” asked Mary, eager to help.

“M-1 scans the room.” Sam said, drawing the tension out. “She manages to connect to a nearby security turret, and uses it to fire on the guards!”

“Hell yeah Mary!” shouted Trevor.

“Max manages to disable the device mooring you to the hanger!” Sam cheered!

“Alright folks, let’s go!” commanded Mike.

“But before you set off-” Sam teased.

“Oh whats nows!” worried Mary.

“-you realise that the hanger door is still closed, and the controls are the other side of the room!”

“How many guards outside?” demanded Thorfinn.

“Too many to take on!” Sam goaded. “And they’ve disabled the turret!”

“Then we’re done for comrades.” sighed the Captain. “Even though the affair was a short one, it was a pleasure to fight alongside you.”

“Save that talk for when we’re done!” said Trevor, standing up. “Dan Rodgers has got this! Sam! Is there anything in the ship that someone could throw? Preferably egg shaped but I’ll take what I can get.”

Sam couldn’t help but be caught up with the enthusiasm of her players. “You look around and find a spare metal cylinder of some kind.”

“Captain,” Trevor said, his voice thick with determination, “lower the ramp.”

“But you’ll die if you go outside!” the Captain protested.

“I don’t need to go outside.” Trevor replied. “Lower the ramp!” The Captain nodded to Sam, who nodded to Trevor.

Trevor straightened his suit jacket. “I run down the ramp, take a second to line up my shot, and hurl the cylinder at the button!”

Sam rolled the dice as the ghosts held their breaths. Mike was also tense, but largely because of an unrelated eBay auction he was about to win.

“Success!” Sam shouted to a collective cheer. “The cylinder hits the button square on, causing the hanger door to shoot open and pull out the assembled troopers into space!”

“Dan Rodgers, football star baby!” Trevor shot his hands into the air in victory.

“Let’s blow this joint!” shouted Flower.

The Captain mimed pulling down an acceleration lever.

“The ship flies out into the open depths of the galaxy!”