JASMINE ALLEY: THE BILL SLASH FICTION

Jasmine Alley : The Lockup : Viv Martella's Ghost : A Canley Christmas Carol

Title: A Canley Christmas Carol
Author: Viv Martella's Ghost
Email: martellas_ghost@yahoo.com.au
Fandom: The Bill
Pairings: Young/Rickman, Ashton/Gilmore
Rating: R18+ I spose just to be on the safe side
Status: complete new story
Category: songfic, angst
Length: c.5000 words
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and a few ghosts pay a visit to Kerry Young.
Archivals/Lists: sent to the Fabulae and Sunhill lists, for archival at
Fabulae and Jasmine Alley (if they want it!)
Feedback: love feedback on list or via email - thanks.
UK readers - do you have bundy and coke over there?
Spoilers: a fair bit of Season 18, especially episodes screened in
Australia in June/July 2003
Credits: The song used as the basis for this story is Melissa
Etheridge's 'Like the Way I Do'. Apologies to Melissa for
destroying it and changing the gender a bit. There is
also one line from her song 'You Can Sleep While I Drive'.
I should acknowledge Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol'
as the other major source of inspiration, if it ain't
already abundantly clear that that is the case.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story, other The Bill references
and Melissa Etheridge's songs 'Like the Way I Do' and 'You
Can Sleep While I Drive' do not belong to me. I intend no
infringement of copyright in writing this story, and have
not profited from it in any way.
Notes: This story is submitted for the July 2003 Fabulae songfic
challenge. Most of the song bits stick out somewhat like
oversexed thumbs, but I had fun writing it, trying to
force all those damn lines into a sentence and story that
wasn't too cringeworthy, in the same order that they
appear in the song (the lines get somewhat mangled at
times, but whatever). I hope it is fun to read too.

**************************************************************
A Canley Christmas Carol

by Viv Martella's Ghost

The thing about living in a big city is that there is no real night. Even in the early hours of the
morning, when the streets are quiet and most people are asleep, the ambient light of London's streets
and factories and offices makes the sky bright, like dusk, and you can't see the stars. The utter
blackness PC Kerry Young had seen as a kid, looking up at the sky in the backwoods of country
England, may as well have been a work of fiction.

So it was that she lay in bed next to Luke on Christmas Eve, illuminated by the street light filtering
through the blinds, and wishing it was as black as real night. She couldn't sleep. She had lain
awake for hours, dwelling on the strange turns her life had taken during the past year.

Like sex. A demon in the sack, she had once said to Cass about Luke, and it used to be true. But
lately Luke had seemed always in a hurry to get it over with. And he never looked at her anymore,
just shut his eyes and humped away till he satisfied himself, not seeming to care if she was having a
good time.

That night it had been the same. Being Christmas, they had both felt obliged to enjoy it in the way
that happy couples are supposed to. Kerry could feel Luke's hesitation, his resentment even. She
had hoped that he couldn't feel her disappointment, her own lack of interest, and she tried to
disguise it with smiles and kisses. But she was just going through the motions.

In the pale street light, careful not to rouse her snoring fiance, Kerry Young slid her hand down her
body to find herself some comfort.

She hadn't been her right self for the past week or so, since they had found the sixth body, Cass's
body. That day had put a clamp on her heart and she refused to prise it off. She let it fester, that
blackness at the core of her chest, that dead, angry feeling, that absolute refusal to believe it was true
but knowing it to be so.

With tears running down the sides of her face, Kerry's fingers tried to caress some feeling back into
her body. She tried to recall the sensation of Cass's soft kisses on her cheek, on her lips, her neck,
her belly. It had all been so fun for a while there. She recollected having one too many bundy and
cokes with Cass that first night, and falling into an easy snog, their hands creeping over curves that
perhaps they shouldn't have, with Cass whispering in her ear, "You might as well, when you're an
old married lady you might not have the chance..." Kerry ran her fingers through her blonde curls,
lost in memories.

Luke stirred in the bed next to her, choking on his snores and muttering something. Kerry's hand
froze and she snorted back a sob. She blinked her tears away, turning her face towards his.

"You awake?" she whispered, testing.

His sleepy eyes opened, and he blinked back at her with a slight expression of surprise, or fear.

"It's nothing," he said, rolling out of bed. "I'm just going for a slash. Go back to sleep."

He wandered off to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Kerry sighed, unable to stop her tears from squeezing out. Her other hand moved down to meet the
first and she tried to make the most of the minute of solitude that Luke had inadvertently granted
her. She brought into her mind a memory of Cass snuggling down between her legs.

"Is it so hard," said Cass's voice, "to satisfy your senses?"

Kerry's eyes widened. The voice was remarkably vivid.

"You found out to love me," it continued, "you had to climb some fences."

Kerry sat up. There, sitting at the end of the bed, was Cass, looking even more pale than she had in
life.

"Hiya," said Cass. Kerry couldn't speak, just stared.

"Don't be scared, mate. It's only me."

Kerry let out a sob, or a laugh, she wasn't sure which.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to give you a message. It's doing me head in being up here and watching you with him,
knowing what I know now. It's not easy, being dead. Trying to communicate with you, just
scratching and crawling along the floor to touch you, but having no corporeal existence. But I
finally worked out how to do it, this visitation thing."

Kerry cast a panicked glance at the bedroom door.

"Luke's gonna be back any minute."

"No, he won't," said Cass. "Trust me, I know."

Kerry started to cry again, looking into Cass's big blue eyes.

"I miss you," she said. "I wish we'd had more time."

"Yeah. So do I. But neither of us knew what we really wanted, did we?"

"No," said Kerry sadly. "Just when it felt right you said you found someone else to hold you."

"Don't remind me. Simon Kitson, of all people. How could I have been so wrong?"

Half of PC Young's nose curled up in a snarl at the thought, but she also wanted to laugh with joy at
hearing the familiar scouser version of English, the accent that put a hard 'g' on the end of 'wrong'.

"Anyhow," said Cass. "I haven't come here to talk about him. It's you I'm worried about. I know
Luke has said he's concerned about you. But he doesn't know you, does he, like I do?"

Kerry shook her head and let a tear fall. She fidgeted with a tassle on the bedspread.

"Can I touch you?"

The ghost formerly known as PC Rickman felt a pang of sadness.

"No, Kerry, you can't," she said quietly, demonstrating by running her hand clear through the
mattress. "Sorry, mate."

"I just want to remember what it was like," said Kerry. Cass nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Me too, an' all."

Cass's clothes were torn, her hair was chopped off and she looked very worse for wear, but her eyes
glistened as they looked into Kerry's.

"There is something we can do, though," she said. "Come over here and shut your eyes."

With her expression brightening, Kerry tossed back the covers and shuffled down to the end of the
bed. Cass cast her eyes over her naked body and smiled. Kerry smiled back and shivered a little.

"Not bad," said Cass, her big teeth grinning. "By the way, I loved the wedding dress and boots.
Dead sexy, I thought."

Kerry let out a guffaw, her mouth half curled in a cheeky grin.

"Now shut your eyes and breathe in through your nose."

Licking her lips, Kerry obeyed her and took a deep breath. Her nostrils filled up with the familiar
bouquet of Cass. Kerry recognised so many delicious smells in turn - the clean aroma of Cass's
hair, the sweet scent of her warm skin, the musty smell of her uniform after a long shift, the perfume
she put on for a hot date, her stinky trainers after a run, the incense she burned in her flat, her breath,
her body, her sweat, the wet traces she left on Kerry's fingers... All the memories of the times they
had spent together swam in and out of Kerry's mind, evoking an intense pain inside her entwined
with exquisite bliss. She wished she could keep the smells inside her nose forever, and never forget.

When she opened her eyes, the ghost of Cass had her own face to Kerry's bed-messy blonde hair,
her eyes closed. Kerry put up her hand to draw Cass into a hug, but her hand went straight through
her. Cass didn't seem to notice.

"Tell me," whispered Cass. "Does he love you like the way I love you?"

Kerry drew back warily.

"Does it matter?" she asked with a defensive shrug. "He's all I've got now."

Cass opened her eyes.

"We'll see about that," she said. "After I leave tonight you'll be visited by three friends of mine
from up here. And then perhaps you'll see how it really is."

Kerry looked pained and her lower lip quivered.

"You're not staying?"

"No, mate. I've got to go. I'm really sorry, I wish I could stay all night. But you'll see me one
more time, later. All right?"

Kerry nodded, blubbering slightly.

"Luke's on his way back," said Cass. "I'll catch you later."

The ghost of Cass faded and was gone. Kerry sat there at the end of the bed, looking at the place
where she had once been. The bedroom door opened and Luke came through it, with a fleeting
paranoid look on his face. He gaped at Kerry.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah." She stood up. "I need a slash too."

Luke got into bed. Kerry went into the bathroom without turning on the light and sat down on the
lid of the toilet. The room was imbued with the smell of Luke. She drew her knees up to her chest
and held them to herself, rocking a little on her seat, in the cold and dark.

After a moment she was aware of a presence in the room. Looking up, she saw another pale
apparition. It was a burly middle aged man with a head of grey brown hair. His face was vaguely
familiar to Kerry. Looking at his tattered clothes, she recognised a police Inspector's uniform.

"PC Young," he said in a somewhat formal voice. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance at last.
Cass asked me to come and show you something tonight. I am what you might call the Ghost of
Relationships Past."

He offered a hand to her to shake. She looked at him dubiously.

"I beg your pardon," he said, withdrawing the ghostly hand. "It takes a bit of getting used to, you
know."

Kerry remembered where she had seen his face - in the newspapers at the time of the Sun Hill fire.
She looked back at him and realised he was averting his eyes from her naked body.

"Sorry, sir, do you mind? Cheers," she muttered with embarrassment, reaching behind him for a
bathrobe on the back of the door and wrapping it around herself.

"No need for formalities, PC Young," he said when she was clothed. "It's probably better if you
don't see me as a senior officer, if you want to get the most out of this experience. Call me
Andrew."

"Kerry," offered Kerry with a flippant and somewhat disbelieving wave of the hand.

"Now," the ghost began. "Cass asked me to brief you on a few things before we get started. Where
we go, you will be able to see people who are familiar to you. But they won't be able to see you.
You can't communicate with them in any way, which you may find difficult. What you will be
seeing, at least for my part of the journey, is the past. Do you understand?"

Kerry nodded, not really understanding anything.

"Well, let's get on with it then," said the ghost, taking her arm. Or, at least, his ghostly hand circled
her arm, but she couldn't feel it.

The room dissolved around them and Kerry found herself standing next to the Inspector at the old
flat where she used to live with Martin. They were in the bedroom. Two people were in the bed,
having sex.

"Oh my god," said Kerry, when she realised who they were. "Is that really what I look like when
I'm doing it?"

The ghost cleared his throat and pointedly turned his back on the couple to face her.

"I realise this may be confronting for you. Cass asked me to remind you of what you have already
left behind."

Kerry watched herself and Martin for a while. It wasn't pretty: Martin was rough and nasty, and
her past self was clearly not having fun. Martin made a particularly horrible comment about Kerry-
of-the-past not enjoying herself, and suddenly Kerry-of-the-present knew exactly what night it was
that she was watching. She remembered it with something akin to disgust.

It was the previous Christmas. Martin had been on the turps all day and had sleazed his way into
bed with an evil glint in his eye. He had forced himself on her, all the time saying the words of
lovers, but with no love in his voice. She had not exactly consented to the sex, but had put up with
it, afraid that if she said no it would be much worse for her. She hadn't called it rape at the time, but
looking at it from outside now, she wasn't quite so sure.

Kerry watched Martin in violent self-absorbed ecstasy. She watched her past self weeping silently
with pain, emotional and physical. It made her feel ill to relive the experience.

"Please," she said to the ghost. "I don't want to see any more of this."

The ghost of Andrew Monroe looked acutely uncomfortable.

"No," he said. "Perhaps you've seen enough."

The room dissolved and the familiar walls of Sun Hill nick materialised around them. Time was
passing faster here, and Kerry caught glimpses of events that she recalled vividly: Martin in the
corridors at different times over the past year, hurling abuse at her, and at Luke, and Cass, and Nick
Klein. The strange show ended with the most recent event, when Martin had hit her in the face, and
Cass had arrested him.

"Toe rag," said Kerry under her breath, unable to fully express her emotions about her ex-partner.

"Mm," hummed Andrew.

The scene cut to another, much more pleasant memory for Kerry from the same day. She was with
Cass on the back ramp of the station car yard. Cass was saying how much she loved her job, and the
people she worked with. She was wearing the necklace Kerry had bought for her. It was the last
day they had seen each other. Kerry remembered what she had been feeling that moment:
contradictory emotions, wanting to be with Cass but not knowing how it would be possible to make
that happen. And still feeling some love and responsibility for Luke. She remembered the sense of
hope she had felt when Cass said she was going to end it with Simon once and for all.

The scene dissolved once more and Kerry found herself watching happy scenes of all the good times
she had spent with Cass. Having their first kiss at the pub that night. Engaging in a quick but
incredible shag against the locker room door the next day during their tea break. Sleeping till noon
in each others' arms at Cass's flat. Going out dancing with the girls, and gawping enviously at
Gemma Osbourne kissing some woman so openly and shamelessly. Wanting to confide in Gemma
as they stood watching Cass dance with Robbie Cryer and Inspector Gold, but without the first clue
as to how she would explain their relationship, entangled as it was amongst their relationships with
Luke and Simon. Debriefing with Cass and Robbie after Cass's first night with Simon, when Cass
had said, "He stimulates me, he attracts and captivates me!", making Kerry incredibly jealous.
Kerry asking Cass later that day, "Does he miss you, existing just to kiss you, like the way I do?"
and Cass tell
ing her to get her hand off it, then making it up to her in the panda.

Kerry watched it all with a sense of nostalgia, mingled with bitterness and regret, and grief.

"It's time to go back," said the ghost of Monroe, taking Kerry's arm, and they were back in the
bathroom of Kerry and Luke's flat. Kerry could hear Luke snoring in the next room. She looked at
Andrew solemnly.

"Thanks," she said. "Now I feel more tormented than I have for days."

"Cass wanted to remind you of the possibilities. So you wouldn't forget that she wants you, and
infatuates you, still."

Not to mention haunts me, thought Kerry. Coming back from the dead - she always did know just
how to shock me.

"Can I go now?" she said.

The ghost of Monroe nodded apologetically and faded away. The cold winter of reality closed
around Kerry, and she went back to bed to warm up. Lying down next to Luke, she rolled over and
tried to sleep.

She was roused by a feeling of being electrified, and rocked by a vibration shaking the mattress.
Sitting up in a panic, she saw several objects flying around the room. By some miracle Luke
remained sound asleep.

"Time to get up, PC Young," said a voice she hadn't heard for a while. "There's lots of work to be
done."

It came from under the bed. Kerry leant over the side to search for the source of the voice. The pale
and somewhat bloodied and distorted head of Tom Chandler appeared from beneath. Kerry reeled
back and leapt off the bed, hurriedly putting some clothes on.

The vibrations stopped and the flying objects settled back into their rightful places. Tom's ghost
floated out and stood at her bedside. He leered approvingly at her half naked body as she threw on
mismatching clothes.

"I'm the Ghost of Relationships Present," he said. "Come on, you've got a lot to learn."

The room didn't dissolve but the light changed slightly. Kerry saw Luke disappear from the bed,
then reappear suddenly in a slightly different position, with herself lying next to him. Kerry-in-bed
was crying silently, and playing with herself, much to Kerry's embarrassment in front of the former
Super. Then Luke was waking up and saying he was going for a slash, getting out of bed and
heading out the door.

"Follow him," instructed the ghost of Tom Chandler. She did, with one last intrigued look at herself
lying in bed.

The ghost of Chandler led Kerry through the bathroom wall, following the naked Luke into the little
room. Luke had turned on the light and stood still for a few moments, listening. When he was
satisfied that he was safely alone, he tiptoed to the medicine cabinet. He opened the bottom drawer
and took out the box of tampons and bag of cotton balls that were in there. Then he pulled the
drawer all the way out of the cabinet and turned it over. It had a false bottom, which Luke removed.
Hidden inside it was a stack of magazines with naked men on the cover. Kerry watched with a
stunned expression on her face. The ghost of Chandler gestured at her with his eyebrows, hands in
his pockets.

"What did you expect?" he said.

Luke sat down on the bog and flicked through the pages until he found a bloke he liked, a dark
haired man in his late thirties with a round face. He started to stroke himself, muttering under his
breath, his eyes on the magazine.

"I want to inject you - " he was saying to the dark haired man with a note of aggression.

Kerry's eyes widened with a sense of growing horror.

" - seduce you - "

Luke leant his head back and shut his eyes as he stroked faster.

" - and...affect...you...ohhh," he grunted.

Tom Chandler watched him with a sense of satisfaction. Kerry was furious with the ghost of
Chandler's intrusion into her life, but the feeling was overwhelmed by her distress about Luke.

"But wait," said the ghost with an evil grin, grabbing at her arm. "There's more."

The bathroom dissolved into a hotel room. Looking out the window at a flashing neon sign, Kerry
realised they were in Liverpool. A sense of dread overwhelmed her.

"No," she said to the ghost.

"I'm afraid so," said Tom Chandler with his half leer-half smile smug expression.

Luke burst through the hotel room door, almost falling into the room and knocking off the holly
wreath that was nailed to the door. He was engaged in a hot kiss with Craig Gilmore. The sergeant
was struggling to get Luke's shirt off. Luke closed the door with his foot and they collapsed onto
the floor, humping each others' bodies hungrily.

Oh Jesus, thought Kerry. Can I survive all the implications of this?

Craig rolled on top of Luke, pinning his arms down.

"Say it again," said Craig.

Luke looked up at him defiantly, with a smile.

"I care, I care," he said. "I care too much, Craig."

"And what if I have HIV?" asked Craig in his measured way.

"It doesn't matter," said Luke. "Even if I tried, you couldn't be anything less than an addiction."

Craig kissed him, hard. Luke kissed back, breathlessly panting underneath the sarge.

"Don't you think I know," said Craig, finally tugging off Luke's shirt. "There's so many others - "

Craig pressed his lips to Luke's neck.

" - who would beg, steal and lie - "

He kissed his way down Luke's chest, one hand roaming towards his legs.

" - fight, kill and die - "

Luke groaned as Craig unzipped his fly and shoved his hand inside.

" - just to hold you - "

Craig worked his hand a little faster.

" - hold you - "

Craig tugged on Luke's nipple with his teeth.

" - like I do..."

Luke scrambled to get his pants down and took Craig for another tumble across the floor.

Kerry was not impressed. The ghost of Chandler watched her suffer.

"Well," he said, stretching the vowel. "They weren't close to Cass. And with you and Luke living
in the same flat, they had to find some way to be together."

Kerry felt hollow, like she'd been punched.

"Take me home," she said.

"If you insist," said the ghost. They rematerialised in the bedroom.

"Now get out," whispered Kerry hoarsely.

The ghost gave her another smug smile and was gone. Luke continued to sleep. Kerry couldn't
bear to look at him. She went out into the living room. Their small Christmas tree blinked its sad
little lights at her. She curled up on the couch and pulled her dead mother's crocheted rug around
her.

"He's only doing what you did with Cass," she told herself. "You don't need to be upset about it."

A man in the room cleared his throat. Kerry's eyes flicked towards the kitchen, and saw a
horrifically burned apparition in the doorway.

"You must be Kerry," said the man. "I'm Derek, and I've been instructed to inform you that I'm the
Ghost of Relationships Future."

His differently coloured eyes widened as he said it and Kerry flinched.

"I'm sorry to have to make you do this," said the ghost of Derek. "But I've been assured that it is
for your own good."

He placed a tentative hand on her arm and Kerry found herself in the living room of another house,
one unknown to her. A framed picture of herself and Luke apparently taken on their wedding day
was hanging on the wall. A huge Christmas tree was in the corner of the room, covered in
decorations that looked like they had been made by small children. Kerry heard a baby cry off in the
distance, then get louder. A door opened and a much older, more tired looking Kerry Young
entered, lugging bags of shopping, with a baby on her arm and two toddlers clambering around her
feet. Older Kerry threw down the shopping, put the crying baby in a little bassinet and collapsed
onto a chair, yelling at the toddlers.

"Luke," she called out.

"What?" came the reply from another room.

"Can you do something with Craig and Luke Junior? I've got to get the roast on."

An older looking Luke put his head around the doorway, doing up the buttons of his shirt.

"I can't," he said. "I'm going out."

Older Kerry shot him a glance that spelled years of the same drama.

"It's bloody Christmas Eve," she said.

"I know," said Luke. "I'm going out with the boys."

"Would it hurt you to stay in for one night?" The resignation in older Kerry's voice made it seem
like a rhetorical question.

"You don't own me, Kerry," said Luke.

"Can I come then? Is Craig going? He's my friend too."

Luke's features had grown older but his defensive facial expressions hadn't changed one bit.

"What would we do with the kids? We'll never get a babysitter at this hour."

Luke disappeared back into the other room. Older Kerry quietly fumed. The baby started up crying
again, at volume. Older Kerry picked her up and rocked her gently.

"Cass," she said to the baby. "How ever did I end up here?"

There was a knock at the door, and older Kerry told the caller to come in, it's not locked. A much
older looking Craig opened the door, his developing double chin disguised by a trim beard.

"Kerry," he said quietly. "How's it going?"

"Don't ask," said older Kerry.

"You don't mind me borrowing Luke for the night, do you? He said you had other plans."

Older Kerry gazed wearily at Craig.

"Did he?" she said.

"He said you were having a girls' night out."

"He would."

Luke came back in the room at that moment.

"Don't mind her," he said to Craig. "She's just having a laugh."

Craig looked at older Kerry and then at the carpet.

"Let's go," said Luke. He kissed older Kerry on the head. "Bye, sweetheart. Don't wait up."

They left the house. Older Kerry burst into tears. Luke Junior drove a toy car up her leg. Craig
Junior spilled a glass of milk on the floor. Baby Cass joined her mum in a heartfelt cry.

Younger Kerry shook her head.

"No," she said simply. "You're making it up. I don't believe it."

"Yes," said the ghost of Derek. "It's not a pleasant sight, is it?"

Younger Kerry pouted. The ghost continued.

"But if it makes any difference, I can assure you that I have no interest in making it up. As far as I
can tell at the moment, it really is your future."

Kerry nodded, looking at the floor.

"Anyway, Kerry," said Derek's ghost. "It's time we were getting back."

In an instant they were back home, in the living room.

"It has been a pleasure," said Derek. "I'm just sorry it couldn't be under more sanguine
circumstances."

"Yeah," said Kerry.

"Right, well I'll leave you to it. Good luck," said the ghost of Derek, fading into nothing.

The distant roar of traffic seeped in the window. Kerry Young stood in the light of the London half
night. She fumed with anger at herself, at Luke, at Craig, at the world.

Standing in her cold living room, she suddenly felt colder still, and shuddered. Essence of Cass
wafted up her nose.

"Cass?" she said.

"Yes, mate, it's me," came Cass's voice from behind her. "You all right?"

"Yeah. No. I don't know," said Kerry, turning to face her.

"I'm sorry mate, I really am. I just thought you should know."

Kerry Young shook her head sadly.

"What am I going to do?"

"That's for you to decide," said Cass. "But he's not the only person out there for you. You'll find
something else, something better, I promise. We had something, yeah? Right or wrong, we had
something and it was better than what you'll get with him. I don't want you to forget that. I
haven't."

"But how can I leave him, without you?"

"You've got to, haven't you?"

The ghost of Cass sighed, shook her head and looked Kerry in the eye. They stood there, gazing.
Time ticked on, and the first rays of dawn started to lighten the sky. Gradually, Kerry nodded to
Cass and smiled, through brewing tears.

"Okay," she said, snivelling. "I'll do it. I'll find something better."

"That's me girl."

"But I won't enjoy it. Not without you there."

"You will. You just wait and see."

"I hope you're right," said Kerry.

"I am, trust me."

"But I'll never forget us, Cass. There'll never be another one like you, you know that, don't you?"

"Kerry, mate," said Cass. "Neither will I. How could I?"

She smiled at her friend.

"Nobody loves you like the way I do," said Cass. "Nobody wants you like the way I do, or needs
you like the way I do."

She reached out a hand to caress Kerry's cheek, but the pale hand went straight through Kerry's
jawbone. Cass withdrew it as if she'd been stung. Her eyes filled up with tears.

"And there's one thing I know for sure," she whispered.

Kerry's eyes overflowed with tears too.

"What's that?" she sniffed, wiping her nose.

"Nobody aches - "

A sob choked Cass's words. She paused to regain her composure.

"Nobody aches just to hold you," she whispered finally. "Like the way I do."

Kerry picked up a cushion and hugged it to herself, wanting it to be the soft body of Cass. She was
unable to stop herself from crying, breathing Cass's scent, gazing into her blue blue eyes and
wishing things were different. Cass just pursed her lips and looked at her sadly.

A pale beam of morning sun streamed between the venetians. The ghost of Cass was cast almost
into invisibility in the brightness. And then it started to fade still further, fast.

"Don't go," cried Kerry.

But it was too late. Cass was gone.

Kerry stood alone. She put her face to the cushion. It had caught a whiff of Cass in its stuffing.
Kerry sucked in a deep breath, holding it to her nose.

Luke coughed in the bedroom. Kerry felt no desire to go back to him. She hugged the cushion and
bathed in the streaming dawn light, exhausted but somehow freed.

"Come on baby," she said to no one in particular. "Let's get out of this town."

Tucking the cushion under her arm she walked out the door.

(The End)
Title: A Canley Christmas Carol
Author: Viv Martella's Ghost
Email: martellas_ghost@yahoo.com.au
Fandom: The Bill
Pairings: Young/Rickman, Ashton/Gilmore
Rating: R18+ I spose just to be on the safe side
Status: complete new story
Category: songfic, angst
Length: c.5000 words
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and a few ghosts pay a visit to Kerry Young.
Archivals/Lists: sent to the Fabulae and Sunhill lists, for archival at Fabulae and Jasmine Alley (if
they want it!)
Feedback: love feedback on list or via email - thanks. UK readers - do you have bundy and coke
over there?
Spoilers: a fair bit of Season 18, especially episodes screened in Australia in June/July 2003
Credits: The song used as the basis for this story is Melissa Etheridge's 'Like the Way I Do'.
Apologies to Melissa for destroying it and changing the gender a bit. There is also one line from her
song 'You Can Sleep While I Drive'. I should acknowledge Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol'
as the other major source of inspiration, if it ain't already abundantly clear that that is the case.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story, other The Bill references and Melissa Etheridge's songs
'Like the Way I Do' and 'You Can Sleep While I Drive' do not belong to me. I intend no
infringement of copyright in writing this story, and have not profited from it in any way.
Notes: This story is submitted for the July 2003 Fabulae songfic challenge. Most of the song bits
stick out somewhat like oversexed thumbs, but I had fun writing it, trying to force all those damn
lines into a sentence and story that wasn't too cringeworthy, in the same order that they appear in the
song (the lines get somewhat mangled at times, but whatever). I hope it is fun to read too.