This is yet another pea-fic by Katie and Em, and is definitely the oddest yet. We mean no offence to any religious types, and only want to spread some Christmas cheer.
We also own nothing!
It was a comparatively late start by their standards, as a morning meeting drew to a close around the sturdy table of the Forgery Suite. Six pairs of eyes watched Harry suspiciously, unsure of what to make of what they'd been told.
"I'm as unhappy about this as you are, but it's our duty. The other sections do theirs, and we must do ours," he said, in acknowledgement of a particularly desperate look from Ros. This was her idea of hell. Quite an irony really, she thought.
"I pulled together an inventory of equipment from the last time we had to do something like this," Malcolm interrupted, sounding fully in control. "If you could all compile a list of your requirements, I can issue you with the kit you need by 11am."
"Shouldn't we assign ourselves roles first?"
"You can do that later, right now I just need to know we're all agreed to do this."
A mumble of 'Yes Harry's echoed from all directions bar one.
"Zaf?"
"It's too soon, Harry. We can't pull it off. We don't have the time or the man power."
"It shouldn't be too hard to do, it's been done before. All the information is accessible to us and we've got desk staff to call upon don't forget. We're not a team of seven you know."
"What's the target date?"
"Friday night - it gives us three days," Adam answered, before Harry could open his mouth.
"Thank you, Adam. Right, everyone know what they're doing?" They nodded, some more reluctantly than others. "Good. First rehearsal at 11. See you all then."
---
"Can I be the Angel?" Jo asked, no sooner were they out of the door.
"Gabriel?" Ros asked, with distain.
"Uh hu. I want to wear angel wings."
"Kill me now," she muttered. "You do realise –"
"– that Gabriel was male?" finished Malcolm.
"Well I'll be the angel Gabriella then, unless one of you blokes wants to strap on the tinsel wings."
There was a silence until somebody muttered something about her short hair. She shot a look in the general direction of the comment and stormed off.
"I call Herod," drawled Ros. Zaf, Adam and Malcolm all looked at her. "What? If I'm going to be made to suffer being in a nativity, at least give me the satisfaction of a juicy character."
Zaf shook his head. "Nice to see the true Christmas spirit is alive and well in us all."
"Speaking us 'us all', were are Harry and Ruth?" Adam asked.
"Ruth's in the registry," Jo called. Her strop had evidently not extended to taking her out of ear shot, and she was loitering by the photocopier, toying with a piece of paper. "I think Harry's gone to see the Home Secretary."
"They need roles," Malcolm pointed out.
"Oh, I'm more than aware of that," Adam replied, smirking.
"You're not!?" Jo exclaimed, scurrying back over.
"Oh, I am."
"You do know that Harry will kill you for this?"
"He won't have a chance if it's the only part left, will he?"
She thought about it for a second, chanced a look at the others and noticed the sly grins creeping onto their faces. It seemed they were all agreed. After all, no-one had said they weren't allowed to have fun.
"I'd like to be Gasper."
" Casper? As in the ghost?"
Malcolm rolled his eyes at Zaf. "Gasper! One of the three wise men, or three Kings as they are sometimes known."
"Oh that Gasper." Zaf replied, somewhat sarcastically.
"I think I'll see if Matthew and James from IT support fancy being Melchior and Balthasar," Malcom muttered in Adam's general direction.
"Good idea, Malcolm."
"Hold on, what about me?!" Zaf whined.
There was a brief pause before everyone chorused, "Shepherd."
"A shepherd? Isn't there a better suited part for me?"
"You could always be the donkey," Ros drawled and the other three tried to suppress their sniggers.
Zaf glared at Ros and muttered something under his breath.
"How about Head Shepherd mate?" Adam implored, before an all out slanging match was declared.
"Yeah, ok." He tried not to sound like a petulant child, but didn't quite manage it. "What are you going to be?"
"The Narrator."
---
By 11 am, most of the group reassembled in the forgery suite, a slight buzz of excitement filtering around the room as Malcolm entered with the prop and costume box. There was a squeal from Jo as she was handed her wings, and immediately set about telling Ros her plans to improve upon the design. Both were agreed that more tinsel was needed; whoever had used them last had left them in a rather sorry state. Ruth slipped into the room a few minutes late and tried not to laugh at everyone as they were in various states of undress. It seemed they were all eager to test the costumes and props out.
"That's a rather fetching hat Malcolm!" she teased "One of the three Kings I take it?"
He whipped off the hat and did a mock bow "Gasper, at your service."
She let out a brief laugh. "Do I, um, have a part yet?"
"You do." He smiled at her. "You're Mary."
"Oh I didn't expect, erm well not that I'm not happy to do it but I thought maybe Jo would be playing Mary."
"She's much more interested in getting to wear tinsel wrapped around coat hangers and pretend she has a real pair of angel wings," interrupted Adam, who was holding three different bibles. "We all know Ros is more likely to frighten a small child than anything else, so that leaves you, Ruth."
Looking at Ros, who was shooting death glares at the back of Adam's head, Ruth now understood her costume. She had wondered why she was trying out fake beards.
"So, um, who's Jos..."
"I think you're costume is over here, Ruth," Malcolm garbled as he pulled out a simple dress and a pillow from the props box.
"Oh, right, yes," she muttered, distractedly, and wandered over to where Malcolm was standing, leaving the others to breathe a sigh of relief.
Ten minutes later, a slightly frazzled Harry stepped into the forgery suite and rolled his eyes at the sight before him. Here were his finest officers dressed up like excited school children about to perform their first Christmas show.
"I do hope that some work has been done today," he stated, loudly, and was rewarded by a slightly embarrassed hush. "Just as I thought."
"Ah, Harry! Just in time to try your costume on."
"Costume?" he asked, blankly. "Since when does the Narrator wear a costume?"
"He doesn't, but Joseph does."
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