Christmas shopping. Horrible, crowded, frantic Christmas shopping needed to be done.

Jack sighed as he watched the water from the tap wash away the last of the shaving cream. He still had no idea what he could get for Kieran. He wanted to get something thoughtful. Something meaningful.

Something that was on par with the high end cocoa mix he found in the cupboard. And that was part of the problem. Jack would mention something, and he would find it the next day. He wasn't particularly observant like that. He couldn't take a little side comment and come back with something nice.

He looked up and checked his reflection one more time before deciding he looked decent enough to brave the world for a couple hours. Maybe he would get lucky and come across something at a local boutique. Maybe a nice bookmark. Did they make high end bookmarks?

He spent a few minutes checking his bank account and frowning at the fact that he had more than just a savings and checking account. The amount sitting between the accounts was more than shocking. No wonder Sam never worried about getting paid back. He transferred enough into his checking to cover a decent shopping trip and wrote the new balance on a sticky note he stuck to his debit card.

The moment Jack closed the banking app and opened his notes, everything was lost. He frowned at the blank page as his stomach clenched. Whatever he was going to write was gone, and he could only hope he'd be reminded again. If it was so bad that he couldn't remember in the few seconds it took to open his notes, then he should start carrying a pen and writing on his hand.

He could only imagine the looks he'd get. With an angry huff, he shoved his phone in his pocket and fetched a pen from the study. He wouldn't let Farragut win, no matter how embarrassed he'd be writing stupid notes on his stupid hand. Other people did it, and they didn't have his excuse of being fucked over by a vampire.

He stared at the cheap black ballpoint pen he'd found. It had the electronics store's branding printed across it in neon yellow. He'd seen the cashier expertly twirling one on several occasions. Just on the edge of his memory, he could see his father doing the same motions.

He gave the pen an experimental flick, sending it across the room. He retrieved it, embarrassed over the failed attempt.

He made a quick circuit through the apartment, making sure he cleaned up after himself to the best of his ability. Satisfied, he grabbed his laptop bag and headed down the stairs.

He shivered as he descended. The stairwell was cold enough, and outside was going to be worse. He hoped there was someplace nearby with something that would make a good gift. Preferably the first place he walked into, so he wouldn't experience the awkwardness of leaving without buying anything.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

At the landing, he shook his head at the taped up sign. But how else were you supposed to get in contact with a part-time ghost?

"Hey, kiddo."

Jack knew that disembodied voice. He looked back at the stairs and found a familiar young man covered in blood lounging in the middle of the stairwell. Thomas's right arm disappeared into the wall, and a leg was halfway through one of the steps.

"Got my note," Thomas said, pointing to the wall. "Go get Kieran."

"Y-you're dead." Jack pulled his coat tight. He'd just walked through a ghost. How many had he walked through in his lifetime? Had he ever unknowingly walked through Lindsey? Did he need to apologize?

"Unalive," Thomas corrected. "Fresh and partially anchored. Did myself a favor giving Kieran my old stuff. Kinda surprised he didn't sell the clock, but it worked out. Makes doing this easier," he said, waving a hand down the length of his body.

He stared at the grandfather clock for a moment before looking up at the ceiling. "Sometimes wanted it back when I missed my mother, but that'd mean having to ask about it, and then there'd be questions. And then probably therapy, and I don't have that sorta time."

The way Thomas said "anchored" put Jack on edge.

"Hey, do you know how ghosts can get high? The worst part of overdosing is losing it."

"Uh... No." He didn't know how ghosts worked to begin with, so how the hell should he know how they could get high?

Thomas sighed and dropped his head back, partly dipping through a step. "Too bad, mighta considered a permanent transition. So. You and Kieran." He ran his eyes over Jack. "He actually looks happy. For once."

Jack shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, doing his best not to look at Thomas. He was doing exactly what he'd been told not to do. But did it really count when Augie was no longer part of the picture?

"Kept popping in at all the wrong times, I guess." Thomas sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I misread the situation and got a little extra excitement in your life." His apology fell flat when given with his smirk.

"I have enough excitement, thanks," Jack dryly replied.

Thomas slumped back into the stairs. "Yeah, looked into you when I saw you sticking around and connected the dots. Too bad your first time had to be with someone who didn't play nice."

Jack grimaced and looked down. What would his life have been like if a different vampire had come across him before Farragut? Would he have gone to college? Have a real job? Would his parents still be alive?

"My first time was shoving my bloody wrist in his face, and finding out I was too much of a drunkard for him to want anything to do with. Sober wrist?" Thomas grinned at Jack and chuckled. "That was fun. Like sticking your head in a crocodile's mouth for a photograph, and hoping your friends don't lose their grip. Excitement is when he hasn't properly fed for a while, and you offer him a hit of liquid cocaine." He broke off with a mournful sigh. "I miss Coke. Real Coke. They don't make it like they used to."

Jack swallowed and pointed to the door leading into the shop. "I'm gonna go get Kieran now."

"Thanks, kiddo!"

image [https://i.imgur.com/eZY0YUq.png]