A Christmas Fic for Reapermum
Title: Merry White Elephant
Genre: Are You Being Served. Man from UNCLE (Mrs. Slocomb and Mrs. Waverly)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1458
Prompt: Notes and gifts from a “Secret Santa” take a strange turn.
reapermum, I hope you enjoy this bit of silliness! Thanks for playing along. sparky955, thanks as always for your beta.
Mrs. Slocomb’s feet were killing her and she ached to take off her shoes, but knew that would have to wait. She was so ready to be home, although at this time of the year, the dark and the quiet made it hard. She’d decorated a tree, put up colorful streamers and lights but it still felt so empty. Usually she didn’t want for company, but all her friends were with their families and she had no one, not even her colleagues.
So here she lingered, reluctant to be alone, yet longing for her own four walls. She felt cast off and unwanted, except for her customers and her pussy.
Then Mrs. Slocomb spotted her. The woman had grace and bearing, but also the aura that she knew her way around a kitchen and wasn’t a stranger to a dustpan and broom.
Captain Peacock swept forward to her and inquired. Mrs. Slocomb couldn’t hear the exchange, but the next moment, Captain Peacock had swept forward and offered her his arm, then guided her to Mrs. Slocomb’s counter.
She was glad Miss Brahms was busy with a customer and a peek-a-boo honeymoon nightie.
“May I help you, Madame?” She resisted the urge to wink.
“Oh, you all have such lovely manners here.” The accent made her a Yank, but Mrs. Slocomb wasn’t sure from were. “Where I’m from, they won’t talk to you unless your number has come up. I think this is much more civilized.”
“Thank you, Madam, we try. I will leave you in Mrs. Slocomb’s capable hands.” Captain Peacock bowed, kissed the back of the customer’s hand gently and returned to his spot.
“Oh, my, I might have to tell Alexander that I want to move here.” She laughed at the thought. “I’m Mrs. Waverly and is there any place where we can sit down. I need some advice and I’m not half as spry as I used to be.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Slocomb raised a hand and Captain Peacock was instantly there. “Madam would like to consult me privately, Captain Peacock. May I have your permission to leave the floor?”
“Seeing the importance of your guest, I will allow it.”
Ten minutes later they were seated at a small table at a tea shop not far from the store.
“Martha, you are a godsend.” Mrs. Slocomb eased her aching feet out of her shoes. Then she leaned forward and giggled. “So, how did it go?”
Mrs. Waverly took her hands. “Betty, you have been the godsend, not I. It has been marvelous and the best part is that he doesn’t have a clue.”
The tea arrived and Mrs. Slocomb’s eyes nearly bugged out of her sockets. She’d heard about the afternoon teas here, but the best she could do was an occasional biscuit. Her salary didn’t stretch far beyond that.
Mrs. Waverly smiled slightly. “I hope you don’t mind. You have been so kind and so much help. Plus it all sounded so good.”
“I won’t be good for much after this.”
“Well, take your time. I intend to monopolize you for the rest of the afternoon.”
The thought of all those commissions going to Miss Brahms threatened to choke her for a moment, then she looked into the kind eyes of her friend and knew whatever happened this afternoon, lost commissions were the least of her worries.
“Shall I play Mother?” Mrs. Slocomb asked and poured out tea for both of them. She selected a plump scone, split it and then drizzled a thick rich cream over the halves. She topped that with a dollop of strawberry jam and offered it to her. “Get that into you. You need building up.”
“I do love London.” She looked around, trying to spot any trailing UNCLE agents. “Looks like I’m in the clear.”
“So, tell me everything!”
Captain Peacock checked his watch again, shook it and looked again. Miss Brahms was handing a large bag to a customer and smiling happily. “Thank you for your custom. Happy Christmas.”
“Thank you, Miss.” The shopper hurried away and Captain Peacock took her place.
“You have had a good afternoon, Miss Brahms.”
“Yeah, but I’m startin’ to worry about Mrs. Slocomb.”
“She is with a private customer. Mr. Rumbold had cleared her to take all the time she needed.”
“Well, it’s done my pay packet a right turn. I’ll be able to buy a new pair of shoes to replace the ones I wore out this afternoon.” She paused then and looked around. Captain Peacock looked as well. The men’s counter was busy, but the rest of the department was empty.
“Is there something wrong?”
“I dunno.” Miss Brahms’s accent was especially strong. “Strange things have been happening.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t want to be telling stories out of school, but--” She gestured him closer. “I caught Mrs. Slocomb writing… well, you know, those kinds of notes in her bill pad.”
“What sort of notes, Miss Brahms?”
“You know.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down. “Those sorts of notes.”
“Our Mrs. Slocomb?”
“When I asked her about it, she said it was for a friend.”
Just then the elevator doors opened and Mrs. Slocomb returned with her guest. Their cheeks were red and rosy and there was a sense of contentment around them both.
“Please wait here, Madam, and I will fetch your purchase.” As she passed Captain Peacock, she handed him a bill. “If I could have your signature, Captain Peacock?”
Captain Peacock’s hand nearly flew to his chest when he saw the purchase total. As it was, his hand trembled as he signed the bottom. He cleared his throat and turned back to their very important guest.
“I take it that you and Mrs. Slocomb had a good meeting, Madam.”
“Oh, my, yes.” She looked past him to the younger woman behind the counter. “Thank you so much for allowing me to borrow your co-worker this afternoon. I hope it wasn’t too hard for you.”
“No, Ma’am, it was good practice for when I become a senior clerk.”
“And I know you will with that attitude.”
Mrs. Slocomb returned with several bags and smiled benignly at Captain Peacock. “I believe Madam will require some assistant with her packages.”
As soon as they were clear, Mrs. Slocomb gestured to Miss Brahms. She reached into her purse and pulled out a strawberry tart. “I saved that for you.”
“Oh, I could just do with something, too.” She took a bite and rolled her eyes. “Imagine fresh berries at this time of the year. I bet it cost a fortune.” She finished the tart in two more bites and hugged herself. “Thank you. It was lovely.” She hesitated, then asked. “Who was she, Mrs. Slocomb?”
“Have you ever heard of a Secret Santa?”
“A what?”
“Secret Santa. Brush those crumbs away from your ruffle and come on, before Peacock returns.” She waved to the men, who glanced around and scurried over.
“Martha’s husband is head of a big organization and every year, each department has something called a Secret Santa, at least in their New York office. The gist of it is that you get someone’s name at random and then you buy them a gift, but you don’t know who has yours. At the end, you get them something as a thank you gift. They brought Martha on board to even up the numbers this year and she’s been giving her person all sorts of gifts and notes. She asked me for my help”
“You know her, then?”
“We were evacuated to the same farm in Tiverton when we were land girls. When she called and asked for my help, I couldn’t resist.”
“So what was that lot tonight, then?”
“This weekend is the big reveal part and she wanted to make sure no one was left out, plus she wanted something nice for her own Secret Santa. She’d been getting some very odd suggestions…”
Miss Brahms snapped her fingers. “That’s what you were writing.”
“They might have recognized her handwriting otherwise. You see, she’d drawn her own name, so she used it as an excuse to be silly and get people talking.”
“I’d love to be a fly on that wall.”
“Speakin’ of such, now tomorrow, if you aren’t busy, there’s going to be a little do at my house.” At the lack of enthusiasm, Mrs. Slocomb added, “Martha insisted. She’s having it catered by Fortnum and Mason.” As expected, everyone’s schedule magically opened up.
There was a bell and a surge of energy rushed through all of them as they hurried to cover their counters and, for the first time in many seasons, Mrs. Slocomb couldn’t wait to be home for the holidays.
Genre: Are You Being Served. Man from UNCLE (Mrs. Slocomb and Mrs. Waverly)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1458
Prompt: Notes and gifts from a “Secret Santa” take a strange turn.
reapermum, I hope you enjoy this bit of silliness! Thanks for playing along. sparky955, thanks as always for your beta.Mrs. Slocomb’s feet were killing her and she ached to take off her shoes, but knew that would have to wait. She was so ready to be home, although at this time of the year, the dark and the quiet made it hard. She’d decorated a tree, put up colorful streamers and lights but it still felt so empty. Usually she didn’t want for company, but all her friends were with their families and she had no one, not even her colleagues.
So here she lingered, reluctant to be alone, yet longing for her own four walls. She felt cast off and unwanted, except for her customers and her pussy.
Then Mrs. Slocomb spotted her. The woman had grace and bearing, but also the aura that she knew her way around a kitchen and wasn’t a stranger to a dustpan and broom.
Captain Peacock swept forward to her and inquired. Mrs. Slocomb couldn’t hear the exchange, but the next moment, Captain Peacock had swept forward and offered her his arm, then guided her to Mrs. Slocomb’s counter.
She was glad Miss Brahms was busy with a customer and a peek-a-boo honeymoon nightie.
“May I help you, Madame?” She resisted the urge to wink.
“Oh, you all have such lovely manners here.” The accent made her a Yank, but Mrs. Slocomb wasn’t sure from were. “Where I’m from, they won’t talk to you unless your number has come up. I think this is much more civilized.”
“Thank you, Madam, we try. I will leave you in Mrs. Slocomb’s capable hands.” Captain Peacock bowed, kissed the back of the customer’s hand gently and returned to his spot.
“Oh, my, I might have to tell Alexander that I want to move here.” She laughed at the thought. “I’m Mrs. Waverly and is there any place where we can sit down. I need some advice and I’m not half as spry as I used to be.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Slocomb raised a hand and Captain Peacock was instantly there. “Madam would like to consult me privately, Captain Peacock. May I have your permission to leave the floor?”
“Seeing the importance of your guest, I will allow it.”
Ten minutes later they were seated at a small table at a tea shop not far from the store.
“Martha, you are a godsend.” Mrs. Slocomb eased her aching feet out of her shoes. Then she leaned forward and giggled. “So, how did it go?”
Mrs. Waverly took her hands. “Betty, you have been the godsend, not I. It has been marvelous and the best part is that he doesn’t have a clue.”
The tea arrived and Mrs. Slocomb’s eyes nearly bugged out of her sockets. She’d heard about the afternoon teas here, but the best she could do was an occasional biscuit. Her salary didn’t stretch far beyond that.
Mrs. Waverly smiled slightly. “I hope you don’t mind. You have been so kind and so much help. Plus it all sounded so good.”
“I won’t be good for much after this.”
“Well, take your time. I intend to monopolize you for the rest of the afternoon.”
The thought of all those commissions going to Miss Brahms threatened to choke her for a moment, then she looked into the kind eyes of her friend and knew whatever happened this afternoon, lost commissions were the least of her worries.
“Shall I play Mother?” Mrs. Slocomb asked and poured out tea for both of them. She selected a plump scone, split it and then drizzled a thick rich cream over the halves. She topped that with a dollop of strawberry jam and offered it to her. “Get that into you. You need building up.”
“I do love London.” She looked around, trying to spot any trailing UNCLE agents. “Looks like I’m in the clear.”
“So, tell me everything!”
Captain Peacock checked his watch again, shook it and looked again. Miss Brahms was handing a large bag to a customer and smiling happily. “Thank you for your custom. Happy Christmas.”
“Thank you, Miss.” The shopper hurried away and Captain Peacock took her place.
“You have had a good afternoon, Miss Brahms.”
“Yeah, but I’m startin’ to worry about Mrs. Slocomb.”
“She is with a private customer. Mr. Rumbold had cleared her to take all the time she needed.”
“Well, it’s done my pay packet a right turn. I’ll be able to buy a new pair of shoes to replace the ones I wore out this afternoon.” She paused then and looked around. Captain Peacock looked as well. The men’s counter was busy, but the rest of the department was empty.
“Is there something wrong?”
“I dunno.” Miss Brahms’s accent was especially strong. “Strange things have been happening.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t want to be telling stories out of school, but--” She gestured him closer. “I caught Mrs. Slocomb writing… well, you know, those kinds of notes in her bill pad.”
“What sort of notes, Miss Brahms?”
“You know.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down. “Those sorts of notes.”
“Our Mrs. Slocomb?”
“When I asked her about it, she said it was for a friend.”
Just then the elevator doors opened and Mrs. Slocomb returned with her guest. Their cheeks were red and rosy and there was a sense of contentment around them both.
“Please wait here, Madam, and I will fetch your purchase.” As she passed Captain Peacock, she handed him a bill. “If I could have your signature, Captain Peacock?”
Captain Peacock’s hand nearly flew to his chest when he saw the purchase total. As it was, his hand trembled as he signed the bottom. He cleared his throat and turned back to their very important guest.
“I take it that you and Mrs. Slocomb had a good meeting, Madam.”
“Oh, my, yes.” She looked past him to the younger woman behind the counter. “Thank you so much for allowing me to borrow your co-worker this afternoon. I hope it wasn’t too hard for you.”
“No, Ma’am, it was good practice for when I become a senior clerk.”
“And I know you will with that attitude.”
Mrs. Slocomb returned with several bags and smiled benignly at Captain Peacock. “I believe Madam will require some assistant with her packages.”
As soon as they were clear, Mrs. Slocomb gestured to Miss Brahms. She reached into her purse and pulled out a strawberry tart. “I saved that for you.”
“Oh, I could just do with something, too.” She took a bite and rolled her eyes. “Imagine fresh berries at this time of the year. I bet it cost a fortune.” She finished the tart in two more bites and hugged herself. “Thank you. It was lovely.” She hesitated, then asked. “Who was she, Mrs. Slocomb?”
“Have you ever heard of a Secret Santa?”
“A what?”
“Secret Santa. Brush those crumbs away from your ruffle and come on, before Peacock returns.” She waved to the men, who glanced around and scurried over.
“Martha’s husband is head of a big organization and every year, each department has something called a Secret Santa, at least in their New York office. The gist of it is that you get someone’s name at random and then you buy them a gift, but you don’t know who has yours. At the end, you get them something as a thank you gift. They brought Martha on board to even up the numbers this year and she’s been giving her person all sorts of gifts and notes. She asked me for my help”
“You know her, then?”
“We were evacuated to the same farm in Tiverton when we were land girls. When she called and asked for my help, I couldn’t resist.”
“So what was that lot tonight, then?”
“This weekend is the big reveal part and she wanted to make sure no one was left out, plus she wanted something nice for her own Secret Santa. She’d been getting some very odd suggestions…”
Miss Brahms snapped her fingers. “That’s what you were writing.”
“They might have recognized her handwriting otherwise. You see, she’d drawn her own name, so she used it as an excuse to be silly and get people talking.”
“I’d love to be a fly on that wall.”
“Speakin’ of such, now tomorrow, if you aren’t busy, there’s going to be a little do at my house.” At the lack of enthusiasm, Mrs. Slocomb added, “Martha insisted. She’s having it catered by Fortnum and Mason.” As expected, everyone’s schedule magically opened up.
There was a bell and a surge of energy rushed through all of them as they hurried to cover their counters and, for the first time in many seasons, Mrs. Slocomb couldn’t wait to be home for the holidays.