Missing Pieces (story prompts/fics)

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (old song fic)

(A/N: this is a story I wrote about 5 years ago, let me know if you like it, and if I should write another song fic with a slowed xmas song/slowed old song like this. And yes, ik it's basically spring when this comes out, but ah well? hope you enjoy XD)

The snow fell over the cobbled streets of London town, the white flakes illuminated by the golden glow of the gas lamps, making the town seem to sparkle as if stars were the ones falling rather than cold snowflakes. Street sellers were out calling for people to buy their carefully crafted wares while well to-do folk made their way through town by either horse-drawn carriage on the road or walking on the pavement, their arms laden with festive gifts wrapped in shiny paper and ribbons of red and green.
Many of the shop windows were un-shuttered, revealing the furniture within as well as the residents. Various shops were open, including one higgeldy-piggeldy shop at the edge of the high street leading towards one of the many roads in and out of London City.

The shop mentioned went by the name of "Butler's Home of Domestic Crafts and Necessities", the plaque with the shop's name was above the door in bold lettering so all passers-by could see it, this small shop was run by an elderly man called Mortimer Butler, and his wife, Sheila Butler.

Both were late 50's, Mortimer had black hair which was peppered with silver and white flecks showing his age, being one of tall stature with a rounded belly. Bushy black and grey sideburns starting on either side of his head. His attire consisted of a brown tailcoat, a white shirt, black waistcoat, black trousers and brown cobbler's boots, fingerless gloves on his wrinkled hands. A clay pipe was gripped in his teeth, black clouds of tobacco smoke puffing out with each breath he took. His face had a few wrinkles from age, of course, however his eyes were as blue as the summer's sky.

His wife, Sheila, had entirely grey hair hidden under a bonnet, her kindly green eyes sparkled like emeralds behind a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, her claw-like hands shook a little whilst she made the soft wares that were part of the shop.
Her long winter's dress was covered by a starched white apron, the pocket having little trinkets and tools within it, the weathered body of hers was spindly like a twig.

They had no children of their own, all they had was each other and their shop. Both Sheila and Mortimer lived within a small house near to the craft shop they owned, their lives were simple but happy.

It was on this particular Christmas Eve when Mortimer went out to buy a gift for his beloved wife. Wrapped up in his cloak he made his way through the snowy and icy streets, snow crunched under his boots whilst the bitter December wind rushed through him.
It was only a few minutes after he had set off, he heard the faint sound of carol singers a few yards behind him, dressed in coats and furs, their voices all in harmony whilst they sung the carol. The gold light from the lantern illuminated them; a man, a woman and three children. Mortimer could just make out the haunting refrain being sung.
"God rest Ye merry gentlemen,
Need nothing you dismay.
Remember Christ, our saviour,
Was born on Christmas day.
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy" the carolers sang.

Mortimer felt a shiver skitter up his back when he heard the carolers, for he was sure he was quite alone before they'd begun their caroling. Surely he'd been imagining them? or had they been there the whole time and he was not focused on them?
At any rate, the family of singers would not distract him from the task at hand, he thought to himself, trudging through the snow.

The street lamps had been lit when Mortimer returned to the house, the gift in his arms wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, when he saw the carolers once again, singing the same song he heard the first time he passed them.
With a sigh and a small smile, he reached into his pocket, taking out a sovereign and sixpence, placing the coins into the tin one of the men held.
"Thank you so very much, sir, and a merry Christmas to you" the man, who was dressed in a long fur coat and black stovepipe hat, boomed happily. Mortimer tipped his cap at them, making his way to the house.

"Merry Christmas, my dearest Sheila" Mortimer said, smile still evident on his face. He handed her the package, placing a kiss on her forehead. Sheila blushed lightly.
"And a merry Christmas to you, my darling" she returned.
"But, pray tell, what's made you so happy? is it the Christmas spirit?" she asked.
"'Tis that, and the carolers I met outside" Mortimer answered.
"What carolers, my dearest one?"
they went to the window, opening the curtains.
Sure enough, the carolers had gone.

Mortimer looked confused, Sheila the exact opposite. She busied herself with the final preparations of the dinner for Christmas day.
Her husband continued to stare out the window.
Before his very eyes, the family of carolers seemed to re-appear like ghosts in the night, a chilling wind blowing. There they were. Transparent, fur-clad and forever singing that haunting but infectious Christmas song...