A/n: A festive take on A Christmas Carol for you all to enjoy, please read and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 1

It had been a day like no other in the history of Daniel Meade's life and it had started at work. Being the first one onto the twenty eighth floor, he got himself a coffee from the kitchen before winding his way through the tube and into his office only to be pulled out of his reverie by the unmistakable sound of two people having sex. "What the hell?" He shouted at the amorous couple making out on his chaise.

Amanda and Tyler, startled out of their lovemaking, both turned and looked at Daniel's incredulous face, "um, sorry, bro." Tyler started.

"Yeah, we thought we'd be ok in here, didn't think you'd be in seeing as its Christmas Eve."

"Well I am," he sneered, leaving his coat and briefcase on the chair in front of his desk before walking back out, "you've got five minutes to sort yourselves out and get to work." He stepped out of the room before retracing his steps and popping his head around the doorframe, "and Amanda, get rid of those chaise and the coffee table," his face was one of disgust, "and the rug. Get maintenance to get me a table and four chairs instead."

"You could say please?" She said tartly under her breath as Tyler helped her to stand before handing her her panties.

"Please." Daniel growled from the doorway, "I'll be in the conference room sorting through the paperwork for the editorial meeting this morning."

"What editorial meeting?" She shouted out as she pulled the thong up her legs and tried to find a shoe that had now mysteriously gone missing.

"The one you're about to set up for nine o'clock this morning." She heard him shout back as she kissed Tyler quickly on the lips and ran to her desk.

"I'll see you later, sweetie." Tyler lent over her, noticing the tears forming along the rim of her eyes, "if daddy bear is nasty to you again today then I suggest you tell him where to stick his job."

"I can't Ty, someone has to be here to watch over him. Betty's not around anymore and he needs a friend."

"Betty hasn't been here for nearly two years and you're not his friend, Amanda. You haven't been since the day he told every last one of us to butt out of his life."

"But he's all alone, he has no one." Amanda simpered. Her heart breaking for the shadow of the man that had only really come alive whenever Betty was around.

"And that was his choice," Tyler soothed. "It's no one's fault but his own. I mean, he's my brother and I love him, but God he really needs to change his attitude here. No one is going to respect him for the way he treats people now. Even Betty would have a hard time getting through that block of ice that's taken up residence in his chest. The man that she fell in love with is gone, Amanda. We have to face it, the Daniel Meade that everyone loved died the day Betty got on that plane to London."

"I know," she blubbed, looking over towards the hunched over figure of Daniel in the conference room. "But it's Christmas, and everyone deserves to be happy at Christmas, even Scrooge over there."

"I know." Tyler's arms circled Amanda's shoulders. "I just wish there was something we could do, but we've all tried and he's not interested. Shame I don't know any ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Amanda looked around to her boyfriend, confusion written all over her face.

"Yeah? Ghost of Christmas past, ghost of Christmas present, ghost of Christmas yet to come?"

She shook her head, "You lost me."

"A Christmas Carol, Amanda? How the three ghosts came to Scrooge on Christmas night and changed his attitude, by Christmas morning he was a new man."

"Oh," she looked at him, "still lost."

Tyler rolled his eyes, "we'll watch it later, honey, no doubt one of the movie channels will be showing it."

"That's a date." She looked back to Daniel, "if only there were such things as ghosts."

.oOo.

Daniel looked around the conference room, was it too much to ask to have a meeting set up at short notice and have everyone turn up. He looked to Amanda, his face fuming. "Did you tell everyone that they had to be here?" He watched Meegan sneak into the back of the room and find a chair. "Thanks for joining us Meegan." Sarcasm dripping from his tone, "nice to see my meeting was a priority."

"I called everyone, Daniel." She looked around at the motley crew sparsely dotted around the table. These few stragglers were only here because they either had workaholic genes like Betty, which consisted of Julie from accounting and Brandon from IT, or the rest were those that had stayed at the office after the Christmas Party from the night before, mostly nursing hangovers and suffering from sleep deprivation.

"You talked to every last one?" He asked bitterly.

"Well, not exactly."

"Either you did or you didn't," he shot back, his anger flaring, a fist landing on the table. Several of the Mode employees who had been resting their heads against the cool glass of the table top, shot upright, startled like rabbits caught in the blaze of a car headlight.

She got up, this was enough. "Ok, Daniel. I rang everyone but not everybody picked up, including Wilhelmina. It's Christmas Eve, no one wants to be here especially after the party last night, and it's not like they need to be either. We've pretty much got the next three issues put to bed already." She stopped to take a breath, psyching herself up for more but she just couldn't do it. The look in his eye was a warning that this could get out of hand and it wasn't fair of her to bitch about this in front of the rest of the staff. "I suggest that we all just call it a day and go home for the holidays." She picked up her things from the desk in front of her and strutted out into the corridor.

"What?" He growled, following her and grabbing her shoulder, "phone everyone back, I want them here in half an hour."

She turned around, throwing her stuff on the floor, "you know what? You do it. You want everyone here, you get them to get up out of bed and get their boney butts into this building. I've had it, Daniel." She strutted off towards her desk.

He followed closely behind her, "Amanda you're my assistant. When I tell you to do something I expect you to damn well do it." She picked up a box from the corner of the office and put it on her desk, as she started to gather her things. "What are you doing?"

She looked up to him, tears streaming down her face, "something I should've done a long time ago." She pulled open a drawer, on the top was the picture she had of Betty sleeping. She smiled wistfully at the picture remembering all of the good times that they had all shared together. She placed it down on the desk in front of Daniel. "It's not like I need the job anyway, I was only doing it as a favour to a friend. I quit."

"You can't."

"I can," she placed an envelope with the photo. "That's my two weeks notice."

"I won't accept it."

"OK, but I'm gone anyway." She said nonplussed, following him into his office after picking up the photo and the envelope and slamming the door behind her. She placed the envelope on his desk. "I've actually been sitting on it for months," she began, the anger evident in her voice, "but I was torn. Torn between the love and respect I have for my boyfriend telling me to quit." She paused, placing the photo of Betty on top of the envelope, "and torn by the love and respect I have for this woman. You know she phones me, every God damn week, asking me about you. And every week I'm torn again between telling her the truth and telling her a lie."

His eyes scanned the photo in front of him, afraid to touch it in case he got burnt. "And what do you do?"

"I lie, Daniel. I lie to her in order to keep her happy because I know that if I tell her the truth it will destroy her."

"You're mistaken, Amanda. Betty doesn't care about me."

Amanda nodded, her face glum. "She will always care about you, it's in her DNA. If she knew what you'd turned into she'd still care but I lie so I'm not the cause of any pain. She doesn't deserve to know that the man she helped mould you into is gone."

"I'm still here."

"No, you're not Daniel. Everybody that loved and respected you, hates you. I think there are only a handful of people that care about you and that's because they're either family or … Betty. Since she left you have turned into a miserly, selfish, bitterly twisted, unlovable man that doesn't deserve anything more than to spend the rest of his life on his own."

"Amanda?" He shot up from his desk, clearly annoyed.

"Don't Amanda me, I've seen you change into someone that deserved every happiness when you had Betty here and then you let her go. It was the most stupid thing you've ever done." She cried out, turning and running for the exit.

He watched her pack away the rest of her things, put on her coat and walk out of sight before slumping down into his chair and picking up the photo of Betty. He pulled out the gas lighter from his draw, triggered the flame and placed it at the bottom corner of the picture, taking pleasure from seeing it catch ablaze. That was until guilt got the better of him and he blew out the flame before tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingers. He pulled out the bottle of scotch and Waterford crystal glass that lay hidden at the back of his desk drawer, pouring himself a slug and knocking it back. "Betty," he whispered, with every emotion he could stomach.

He closed his eyes, remembering the things that Amanda had said to him; miserly, selfish, bitterly twisted, unlovable. Was he really all of those things? And if he was did he even care? Miserly, well there was some truth in that but even after they had recovered most of the Meade money from Connor Owens theft of it, they had still had to buy out Hartley and tighten their belts as a result until they could afford to get back to their former financial status. Did that make him miserly? He didn't think so.

Selfish? Now there was a word he hadn't used to describe himself in a while. Yes he'd had his moments but he'd thought he'd done away with that for good when he'd let Betty go, he would've been selfish keeping her here so he couldn't see how that word worked for him anymore either.

Bitterly twisted, was he? He looked back at the photo. Bitterly twisted would've let the picture burn until there was nothing left, again he had to wonder at Amanda's choice of words. He wasn't that bad.

Unlovable. If there was one word that Amanda succinctly managed to tar him with, that was the one and it bit through every fibre of his being. He was definitely unlovable. It was almost as if Betty had touched him and no one else could see him. He'd tried a few dates with other women since Betty had left but each time he'd met someone, none of them could hold a torch to her. He even started trying to go back to his former self, going out, partying, meeting a girl he could take home only to leave before he had even kissed her or got the cab driver to take her home before he went back to the dreary confines of his loft, alone. He just couldn't be that person anymore.

He poured out another slug, this one larger than the first but still knocking it back as he had done so before, the smooth, rich, nectar rushed through his body, the sugar infiltrating his veins and numbing his senses, he needed another and another. Today was going to be a good day, today was the day when he was going to give himself a present, today he was going to rid himself of Betty Suarez forever. He picked up the photo and tossed it in the trash, before sending an email to human resources telling them to start the paperwork on Amanda's leaving and to get the ball rolling on finding a suitable replacement; the sooner he got rid of her the better it would be for him.

He pulled his phone from his pants pocket, quickly switching it off and leaving it in his desk drawer. The last thing he needed now was for someone to get in contact with him. He stood up, picked up his coat and put it on, along with the leather gloves that Betty had got him for Christmas several years earlier when they were still friends. He sighed, taking them off again and throwing them into the can as well, he had to eradicate himself of her in any way that he could otherwise he just wouldn't move on. Even the trivial things had to go.

"Are you off out?" His mother startled him as he recovered from his thoughts.

"Yes." He simply stated.

"And tomorrow?"

"I don't know."

"Daniel, I'm worried about you."

"You and Betty, my God something must be wrong." He watched her close her eyes momentarily at the stab of pain he'd just inflicted. "Mom, I'm sorry I can't deal with this right now."

"You haven't been able to since she left. You're falling apart Daniel."

"Mom, I'm fine. I just need to get back out there." He left her standing in the doorway as he sauntered off towards the elevators.

Claire stepped further into the room, wanting to investigate what he'd thrown away. As she picked up the gloves she noticed the photo and pulled it out too, her fingers touching the scorched edge; if he couldn't bring himself to burn it then that had to be good news. Taking them with her she only hoped that he had the good sense to make an appearance at the mansion for Christmas lunch, she had a surprise for him; one that she also hoped would bring him back to her and the rest of their family.

.oOo.

Daniel was slumped at the bar of one of his old hangouts at Union Square. Since arriving he'd spoken to several women, got a couple of numbers and had even made out with a girl who he'd caught underneath the mistletoe before getting her into a booth and having her straddle his lap. It wasn't until he'd been met in the men's room by a burly bloke demanding a hundred dollars that he realised that the girl was a hooker. He spent the rest of the evening soaking himself in scotch, trying to forget that harrowing experience.

"Give me another shot." He drooled, as the barman stood in front of him mixing some cocktails for another order.

"I think you've had enough."

"Well, I don't." He answered unreasonably. He was fed up with people trying to tell him what was good for him and what wasn't. "I want another shot."

"Look, buddy, it's not gonna happen. You're starting to piss off some of the other customers. I think it's about time you sobered up a bit and went home. Is there anyone I can call?"

Was there anyone he could call? No, of course there wasn't. "Betty?"

"Betty who? Have you got her number?"

He shook his head, his eyes watery. "No," he managed. "There's no one." He attempted to slide off the stool but slipped and fell down to a round of applause, his butt landing heavily on the wooden floor. "Argh." He cried out in frustration rather than pain, although he had a feeling his backside was going to hurt like hell in a day or so.

"Jeez Daniel, you're a mess?"

He looked up, shielding his eyes from the glare of the overhead lights, "Becks?"

"Yeah," Becks held his hands out to help Daniel up, "how are you doing?"

"I'm good," Daniel replied, swaying a little on the spot.

"Not what I've been hearing." Daniel looked away from Becks and shook his head. "Your mom was kinda frantic when I got to the mansion earlier on."

"You're staying at mom's?" Daniel asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, she's told you she's worried about you, right? She just wanted my take on things."

"And from the man who can still be considered an international womanizer."

"Hey Danny, you left that life behind years ago. Don't tell me you're wanting to get some of the action back?"

"Why not, I'm obviously not cut out for the 'one woman for the rest of my life' part. Something keeps happening to push that dream further away from me."

"And the family you desperately wanted. What happened to that dream?"

"I'm not that man."

"You're not this guy either. You've changed man, you can't ever go back to that."

"You're telling me that Amanda was right? That I'm destined to be alone?"

Becks shook his head, "I don't know Daniel, I'm not really the one you should be asking." He fidgeted with his hands in his pockets. "Look I'll get you home and tomorrow you can go by your mom's house and have dinner with us all."

"OK," Daniel said as Becks helped him out of the club and into a cab. The journey took no time to get to his loft and he was soon inside the lonely, grey rooms. "How many people are gonna be there?"

"I don't know, a few, I think. You really need this Daniel, you need to see all of the people that love you so that maybe you can turn a chapter here."

"I don't know what you mean?" Daniel's hackles began to rise.

"You damn near frightened Amanda witless today."

"She quit on me." He shouted.

"Danny, she had good reason from what she, Tyler and Claire have been telling me. You're not yourself."

"I'm fine, I wish everyone would just let me live my life on my terms for a change."

"And how do you want to do that?"

"I … I …"

"If you can't tell me what you want …"

Daniel cut him off, "Butt out, Becks. I wish that I could go back six years to a time that I could cope with, where women meant nothing and I meant even less. Everything was fine until Betty walked into my life. I really must remember to thank her for all the trouble she's caused." His snide remark had Becks eyebrows travelling north.

"Betty was the best thing that happened to you."

"Really? Do you know you're the second person that's said that to me today?" Daniel sneered, "And the first one quit. I rue the day that woman crashed into my life, she changed me into a freak, into a man that no one can love."

"Maybe you're looking for love in the wrong places."

Daniel shook his head, "no, she's been poison. No one wants to come near me because she's changed me beyond recognition. I hate her."

Becks couldn't listen to another word, "ok, I just hope you can see things a little differently in the morning."

"Why?"

"Because it's Christmas Daniel and Christmas is a time for forgiveness, even if that means you have to forgive yourself. Your mother knows all about that, so perhaps you should ask her all about it." Becks bit back his next thought, shaking his head instead and walking back towards the front door of the apartment. "See you tomorrow, Daniel. Sweet dreams."

Daniel stared at the back of the door as it closed shut, sealing him into his world. He stepped over to the kitchen pulling a bottle of whiskey from the fridge and knocking back a shot straight from the bottle. He wiped his hand across his mouth, leaving the bottle on the side and walking into his bedroom. He lay sprawled out on the bed, a hand covering his eyes as he silently wept, the emptiness in his life seeping through every pore in his body and filling him like a disease, almost like he was becoming riddled by a cancer such as the one that had killed Molly. He was totally alone and would always be so until he took his last breath. And he only hoped that that would happen soon, hoped that he would suffer an early death like his father because he couldn't live his life like this anymore. He just wanted to cease to be.

As the hours dragged on, he finally got peace when exhaustion left him with no other option than to close his eyes and sleep. Only to be awakened at midnight by the striking of an unfamiliar clock chime and the rushing of a cold wind over his face. He shot up, his eyes searching the darkness for an answer to the disturbance but nothing was immediately forthcoming, Then he heard ice chinking into a glass, the ice crackling as liquid was poured over them and the drinker knocking back the shot and exhaling sharply quickly afterwards. He reached for the baseball bat he kept under his bed for emergencies once he realised that a tennis racquet was no real weapon. Edging his way across the room he opened the bedroom door and shuffled out into the corridor. A light was on in the kitchen and he could see a man wandering around in the space behind the counter, Daniel decided he needed to just go for it. He rushed through the living room, the bat behind his shoulders, ready to attack whomever he found there. "Who the hell are you?" He cried out.

A man stood by the sink, his back towards Daniel, his white hair clipped short and wearing an Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He turned on the spot, smiling down at Daniel, "Hello, Daniel," he said, a glass of scotch in his hand.

Daniel's eyes were wide, he couldn't fathom what was going on, the shock evident on his face as he dropped the bat onto the floor with a loud clunk. "Dad?"

The man nodded, "yes, it's me. I told Betty to look after you, she hasn't been doing a very good job has she?"

"N … n … no! How … where … what are you doing here?"

"Well, I had to come back and see my son, I had to come and warn you."

"About what?"

"About this," he waved his arms around, "about trying to go backwards. I don't want you to end up like me, Daniel. I don't want you to forge your chain in the way that I forged mine, a string of women that I never loved, the material wealth that I enjoyed, Fey Sommers and the way I hurt your mother so many times, especially when I divorced her was about to marry Wilhelmina Slater."

"What are you saying?"

"Your chain was three times as long as mine was when I died but it was shrinking, with all the love and friendship that you developed with Betty, the chain was being broken down, link by link. But over the last few years it's become stronger and longer than it ever was."

"Chain, what chain?"

"The chain we forge in life, Daniel. Whenever we're bad another link is added. You've been cruel and insensitive, not attributes I ever expected of you and as a result your chain is now four and a half times longer than mine. You need to stop what you're doing. You need to find Betty and make things right again."

Daniel pinched himself, "I have to be dreaming," he closed his eyes, pinched himself again and when he opened his eyes up, his father was stood in front of him peering at his face. Daniel jumped back. "How is this possible?"

"I have been given one night to come and see you, to talk to you and try to get you to amend your ways. Soon I will be gone, and you will be visited by three shadows. One will take you over Christmases past, one over this present year and one will show you images of things that may very well become true should you continue along your current path. My aim, with their help, is to guide you to make the right choices." Bradford appeared to fade somewhat before coming back in glorious technicolour, "Daniel, you've overcome great sadness, especially whilst also being able to overcome very stressful situations with the loss of all that money. You stepped up and did what you could before speaking with Hartley and asking for help. I'm glad that you were also able to buy him out. Your mother was right, I am very proud of you son." He smiled before fading away once more, "remember, the first vision will be with you at one." And then he was gone.

Daniel looked around himself, nothing appeared to be out of place. The scotch bottle still sat on the counter with the top removed, the glass his father had used had disappeared. "That was freaky," he said, bending down and picking up the baseball bat, before laughing to himself. "Good one, dad. Thanks for the tip on the chain by the way, great piece of advice." A noise sounded behind him as if in answer to the sarcastic comment he had made. This was just too much, the scotch had obviously taken its toll on him, all he needed to do was go back to bed. He picked his way back to his room, the bat swinging in his left hand. "Honestly, I really do have to stop drinking so much." He closed the door behind him.

"Daniel Meade?" A female voice asked, "Daniel Meade," it repeated anxiously.

He reopened the door, peaking out into the darkened living room, "Ah, there you are?" Said the small Latina woman with the incredible smile and who was sat on his couch.

"Who are you?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"I'm Rosa Suarez, Betty's mom."