#ALSO IT MUST HURT LENORE INSIDE TO NOT BE WHO ANNABEL THINKS SHE IS BUT SHE KNOWS NO OTHER THING IT’S AAAAAAAAA

[coconut530]

BELLTOWER BONANZA

[jaynaneeya]

Happy Holidays, @roxymoron101! It’s your Secret Santa. Sorry I’m posting this so late in the day...I got kind of carried away and it turned out a bit longer than I intended. Hope you like this post-epilogue Wellenore fic!

Prompt:  Wellenore Fake dating! (Maybe someone told family about having a bf/gf and now the family wants to meet them for Xmas)

Christmas preparations were in full swing at Edgar Allan Poe’s house when science-fiction-writer-turned-time-traveling-ghost HG Wells arrived on December 23rd. HG suspected that it was the first time that this or any other holiday had been celebrated there. Edgar wasn’t really the celebrating type. But his ghost girlfriend, Annabel Lee, certainly was, and the way she lit up with joy at even the mention of lights and ornaments was enough to melt any Scrooge’s heart. She had recruited HG, in addition to all of their other ghost friends, to help turn Edgar’s bleak mansion into the most festive home in Baltimore.

As soon as HG Wells walked through the door, Annabel thrust a coil of lights into his arms. “Mr. Wells, will you please wrap these around the handrail of the main staircase?” she requested.

“Certainly,” he agreed, relieved that his first assignment was relatively simple, and he set to work. So engrossed was he in his task that he didn’t notice that he wasn’t alone.

“Hey, Costco Optical,” a voice behind him said so suddenly that HG jumped, lost his balance, and fell down the stairs. Ghosts were subject to far more laws of physics than he would have liked, but at least he couldn’t get hurt. Laying on his back on the floor, he looked up to the top of the staircase to see a horrified Lenore, who, unbeknownst to him, had just experienced an unpleasant flashback to the night of his demise.

“Sorry, HG, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She hurried down the stairs and helped him to his feet.

“That’s quite all right, Lenore. I’d hoped that as a ghost I’d be less clumsy, but alas…”

They looked at one another awkwardly for a few moments. Neither of them knew what to say. They’d seen quite a bit of each other since HG’s death, but rarely without at least three other ghosts present. Apparently, HG had been the first one to unlock the mystery of time travel, and he’d been showing others the secret. Lenore often tagged along, even after she’d learned to move through time without his assistance. They’d walked with dinosaurs and some strange futuristic creatures they had no name for, watched empires and nations form and crumble, and tried (unsuccessfully) to stop people they knew were about to become evil dictators, but through it all, they had spent no more than a few minutes alone together. HG always invited as many ghosts as he could because he knew Lenore thrived in large groups. Lenore knew HG was trying to take in as much of the past and future as he could, and she didn’t want to distract him from the only thing that made him happy to be dead, so she spent most of their trips talking to the others.

Finally, HG broke the silence. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, right. I just wanted to know if you had any Christmas plans.”

“Well, Edgar and Annabel invited me to join them. As you know, my family…” He trailed off. Lenore knew. His family didn’t like ghosts and had tried to exorcise him when he visited them.

“I just thought you might want to spend Christmas with me. My parents wanted to bring me back, so they’re totes cool with ghosts.”

HG didn’t know what to say. Why did she want to spend Christmas with him? She never seemed to want to talk to him on their time traveling adventures.

Before HG had time to say anything, Lenore spoke again. “Also…I kind of might have told them that I have a boyfriend…”

HG had never seen her look so embarrassed. She wasn’t exactly blushing – he wasn’t sure if ghosts could blush – but she was staring at the floor when she normally had no trouble meeting anyone’s eyes. He didn’t understand. “You have a boyfriend? Is it John Proctor?”

“Ugh, no, I don’t have a boyfriend, that’s the problem! I mean, yes, John Proctor is totally hot, but he’s also totally not into me, so that was never going to work.”

HG was still confused. “So why did you tell your parents you had a boyfriend if you’re not dating John Proctor?”

“They kept bugging me about it. They were all like, ‘What did we even bring you back for? What are you doing with your afterlife? Why don’t you settle down instead of always time traveling and haunting the creepy raven enthusiast?’ I got so sick of it I told them I was seeing someone, and they asked to meet him, so…” She fought the urge to roll her eyes at his still blank face. He really could be remarkably clueless for the guy who discovered time travel. “So, will you come with me to my parents’ and pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for Christmas,” she added quickly. “My parents are totally used to my relationships only lasting a few days anyway. I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them had died of shock on my wedding day instead of…anyway, I can tell them we broke up if they ask about you again. But hopefully if you come over for Christmas dinner, that will get them off my back for the time being. So will you do it?”

To HG’s immense surprise, his immediate reaction was disappointment that she wasn’t asking him on a real date. Then he mentally shook himself. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Lenore, he reminded himself. He enjoyed her company, certainly, and he cared about her, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle dating her. Some of her slang made more sense now that he’d started time traveling, but he still had trouble figuring out when she was joking. And as she had said herself, her relationships usually only lasted a few days anyway. If they dated and broke up, it would ruin their friendship. So he should be relieved, he told himself, that she was only asking him to be her temporary pretend boyfriend. But he couldn’t quite convince himself. Lenore was waiting for his answer. For a moment, he considered responding with, “I’d rather go as your actual boyfriend,” but the words changed before they got to his mouth, and what he said instead was, “Why me?”

Lenore had watched him carefully as he was pondering her offer, but his expression was unreadable. She tried to respond in a way that would minimize his discomfort but maximize the possibility of a favorable outcome. “Um, because you’re one of my best friends and I thought you probably didn’t have any Christmas plans. Unless you’re, like, desperate to be around that all day.” She rolled her eyes and nodded her head toward something behind his shoulder. He whirled around to see Edgar and Annabel under a sprig of mistletoe. He hastily averted his eyes. “I mean, you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Lenore was saying, “I just thought it might be more fun than watching the continued blossoming of the love that’s more than love, or whatever.”

“Of course, Lenore. I’d be honored to be your fake boyfriend for Christmas,” he heard himself say.

The Lady Ghost looked happier than he could ever remember seeing her. “Great! Meet you at 4pm on Christmas Day in front of town hall? My parents live right near there.”

“It’s a date,” he replied automatically. “A pretend one,” he added hastily.

“There you are!” Lenore exclaimed. “I was afraid you’d decided to blow me off.

HG consulted his pocket watch. “It’s 4:01.”

“I know, but you’re usually so prompt.” She began leading the way toward her parents’ house. “I assumed your secret was that if you were ever running late, you just time traveled.”

He chuckled. “You know I don’t believe in using time travel for personal gain. I’ve always had a knack for arriving on time, even when I was alive. But today I was so focused on trying to finish your present, I lost track for a minute.”

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” she insisted.

“I doubt your parents would believe you were dating someone who wouldn’t even give you a Christmas present,” he pointed out.

“Good thing I got you something, too, or I’d be feeling really awkward right now.”

HG grinned. “So I did have to get you something.”

“No. If you hadn’t, I just wouldn’t have given you your present. Here.” She handed him the bright red and green gift bag she’d been trying to hide behind her back. “Merry Christmas, HG.”

“Thank you. Shall I open it now, or-”

“Now. Somehow I don’t think my family will fully appreciate it.”

He looked inside. “You must be joking!” he exclaimed, pulling out a pair of 23rd-century goggles and immediately slipping them over his eyes. Not only could he now see the world in sharper clarity than he’d ever seen it before, but everything was accompanied by a description. Every tree he looked at had its common and scientific name appear beside it. Each house had a list of all its residents from the time it was built to the time it would be demolished (or the year 2222, whichever was sooner). Of course, taking in the world this way while walking can be quite dangerous, and unsurprisingly HG soon tripped on the uneven pavement. Lenore caught his arm to prevent him from falling. The goggles labeled her Lenore: Lady Ghost, Ghost Lady. “Did you steal these from the future?” he asked, reluctantly removing them so he could concentrate on walking.

“Of course not; I bought them.”

“Where did you get 2222 currency?” he wondered.

“I didn’t. I also didn’t buy them in 2222.”

“But I remember these,” he insisted. “We saw them in 2222.”

“Well, yeah, that’s when they were made, but I got them in 2287 in an antique shop by trading with some other antiques I happened to have.”

“That you stole from Edgar’s house?”

“Oh, please, that guy didn’t go in his attic once the entire time I was haunting him. He’ll never miss a few useless trinkets. That’s not important anyway. Do you like your present?”

“Do you even need to ask? I hope you like yours even half as much.” From inside his jacket he produced a manuscript. “Merry Christmas, Lenore,” he said, handing it to her.

“The Timeless Adventures of Eleanor the Ghost, a novel by H.G. Wells,” Lenore read aloud.

“It’s a working title,” HG explained apologetically. “And it’s only the 17th draft so it’s probably not very good yet, but I wanted you to be the first to read it. It’s the story of a time traveling ghost named Eleanor and her trusty sidekick, G.H. Waters.”

“You wrote a novel about us!” Lenore exclaimed, eagerly flipping through the manuscript.

“Well, sort of about us. That is, I, uh, used some of our experiences as inspiration. But the characters in the story time travel to solve and prevent crimes, which is something I’ve always desired but have never quite achieved.”

“Hey, you got super close to murdering Hitler,” Lenore reminded him. “We’ll have to go back and try again sometime,” she added absent-mindedly, still skimming the manuscript in awe. Sure, Edgar had written that poem with her name in it, but he’d mostly used it as an excuse to write about ravens. HG had written a whole book…

“Are we nearly at your parents’?” HG asked, abruptly breaking her reverie.

“Oh, yeah, it’s the next house.”

HG had been afraid of that. The house she indicated was bursting with people. The front door was open, and even the porch was crowded. As the ghosts crossed the front lawn, someone cried, “It’s Lenore!” and suddenly they were surrounded by people crying, “Merry Christmas!” and “So glad you made it!” and “It’s wonderful to see you!” and “Is this the new beau we’ve heard so little about?”

Lenore spoke louder than all of them. “Everyone, this is HG Wells, my boyfriend.”

“What’s HG stand for?” someone bellowed from inside the house.

“H-H-Herbert George,” he stammered.

There was a snort of derision from the bellower. “What a terrible name.”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” Lenore replied defensively. “Now, will you guys let us in to the house?” She grabbed HG by the hand and they made their way inside.

“I wasn’t expecting quite this many people,” he murmured in her ear.

She looked rather sheepish. “Yeah, sorry, I was afraid if I told you how many relatives I had, you wouldn’t come. But I mean, I didn’t know they’d all be here today.”

“Are you kidding?” asked a young woman who looked a lot like Lenore. “A chance to see our favorite ghost relative and meet her ghost boyfriend? Of course we wouldn’t miss that!”

“Okay, well, here he is. HG, meet my cousin Mary…” And so it began. HG was introduced to at least 20 cousins, a dozen uncles and aunts, a brother who looked remarkably like a mustache-less Edgar, and finally, Lenore’s parents, who had both been busy in the kitchen when they’d first arrived.

“Dinner’s nearly ready,” her mother announced to the whole house before she spotted them. “Ah, Lenore, you made it! And this must be the famous HG Wells! Welcome!”

“Thank you, madam, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And you, sir,” he added, as Lenore’s father appeared beside his wife.

“Mr. Wells, I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, shaking the ghost’s hand. “Sounds like you and Lenore have spent a lot of time together – centuries in fact!” He laughed at his own joke.

“Millenia, technically,” HG added.

“So, HG, we’ve heard a bit about your recent adventures with Lenore, but where did you two meet?”

HG was surprised that Lenore hadn’t told her mother this. “At Edgar Allan Poe’s house.”

“Oh, were you haunting him, too?”

“Why, no, it was at the dinner party.”

“Dinner party?” her mother repeated blankly.

HG looked over at Lenore, perplexed. She was shaking her head at him imploringly. It dawned on him that she hadn’t told her parents about that night, and that she didn’t want them to know about it. It was time to start inventing again. “The dinner party…that Edgar hosts…periodically to reunite dead authors.”

“Interesting. Lenore always complained that he never interacted with people,” her father commented.

“Well, not very often, but sometimes we talk him into it.” HG didn’t think he was being very convincing, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Thankfully, at that moment one of Lenore’s younger cousins whined, “Are we ever gonna get some food around here?” which prompted her parents to hurry back to the kitchen.

HG beckoned Lenore off to the side. “You haven’t told them about the dinner party?” he asked incredulously.

“No, I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“You know how terrible I am at thinking on my feet! But more importantly, why don’t you want them to know about it?”

Lenore looked at him like he’d sprouted horns. “Oh yeah, that would be a really great conversation. ‘Hey, Mom and Dad! Remember that guy I was going to marry right before I died, who killed himself before you could bring me back? So it turns out his brother had a desperate thirst for revenge, and he went on a murderous rampage in the house I was haunting to get back at me for causing his brother’s death. It’s all good, though, because most of his victims came back as ghosts, and everything’s fine now!’ Yeah, no, kind of desperate to avoid that chat.”

“Eddie didn’t only do that because of you,” HG pointed out.

“No, but I was a significant contributing factor. And I really don’t want them to think I got you all killed just so I’d have more ghost friends.”

“Who would think that?” he wondered.

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. Did you really think I blamed you for my death?” he asked, but at that moment dinner was served and the whole crowd started moving en masse to the dining room, giving Lenore an excuse not to answer.

The dinner smelled delicious. Two gigantic tables were piled with goose, turkey, ham, roasted vegetables, potatoes, pies of every flavor imaginable…HG piled it on his plate and took a bite. If he concentrated hard enough, he could very nearly almost taste it. He could tell it was scrumptious, but it wasn’t the same.

HG watched Lenore, who was sitting across from him. She looked as though she was thinking similar thoughts as she took her first bite. He began to ponder as he continued to gaze at her. She’d never told him how she felt about that night. Did she really blame herself for his death? It had never occurred to him that what happened was anyone’s fault other than Eddie, Charlotte, and Anne. He didn’t even think Guy’s death was her fault. Eddie had been utterly irrational to blame her for that. She didn’t purposely break his heart, any more than he, HG, had purposely inhaled that smoke…

Suddenly a loud clang interrupted his thoughts. He jumped; so did several other people. All the conversations had stopped, and everyone seemed to be staring at him. He looked down at his plate and realized what must have happened. He’d forgotten to concentrate on holding his fork, and it had fallen through his hand. Sometimes being a ghost was the worst. He wanted to hide under the table. But then there was another clang, and everyone turned to stare at Lenore, who had just dropped her fork as well.

“What?” Lenore asked, picking her fork up and continuing to eat as if nothing had happened. “Oh, sorry I forgot what time period I was in. In the future there’s this custom to always drop your fork after the first bite of a great meal. HG and I just came from there, so we haven’t readjusted yet.”

She winked at him, and for once he understood, though ordinarily he would have been confused by her reference to a tradition that didn’t actually exist. He smiled at her gratefully.

From then on, incredibly, miraculously, despite the surfeit of people, HG had a wonderful evening. Lenore’s relatives kept asking him questions, mostly about him and Lenore, but he found them surprisingly easy to answer. He could come up with dozens of things he liked about her, and several anecdotes about their adventures. But he never felt too much pressure to talk, and the family seemed to understand that he needed to just sit and listen some of the time. But then he found out that Lenore’s father was a bit of a history buff, and the two of them had a long conversation about various events that HG had witnessed in his travels.

Far and away the best parts of the evening for HG were those moments when he caught Lenore’s eye every time someone made an unintentional reference to one of their inside jokes. HG hadn’t realized how many they had. After about the tenth time they looked at each other and chuckled, Lenore’s father commented that he’d never seen her anywhere near as happy as she looked at that moment.

Before HG knew it, the party was breaking up. Lenore kissed her parents goodbye, then slipped her arm through his and together the two ghosts strolled down the street. When they were out of earshot from all of her relatives, she said, “Thanks HG. That was fun.”

“It was,” he agreed, chuckling nervously. “Certainly the best pretend date I’ve ever been on.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He took a deep breath and summoned all his courage. “Perhaps we should try a real date sometime.”

She stopped walking. He couldn’t look at her, terrified that he’d gone too far. But then she responded with the most beautiful four words he had ever heard: “Does tomorrow night work?”