Fanfiction: "An Olsen Gang Christmas"

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morphofan
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Fanfiction: "An Olsen Gang Christmas"

Beitrag von morphofan »

It's The Night Before Christmas, and Egon has a crisis of conscience when he discovers unexpected gifts for him from Benny, Kjeld and Yvonne under the Jensen's tree. He heads out onto the dark, deserted streets of Copenhagen during a blizzard for some last-minute shopping, but a run-in with a drunk driver leaves him in desperate danger. Soon it seems that nothing can save Egon Olsen, short of a miracle….

AN OLSEN GANG CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER 1

It was the 24th of December, early evening, and the snow had been coming down since that morning. Egon stood at the window of the Jensen's flat in Valby Copenhagen, watching it piling up.

He was thankful that he didn't have any errands to run in this wintry mess. He could just lay around the Jensen's nice, warm flat. The buses weren't even running. There was a good twenty centimeters of snow out there.

At least he wasn't spending this Christmas in prison. The Warden always got so sickeningly sentimental this time of year, with 'Secret Santa', sappy folk songs and so on, but Egon wanted none of it. He would usually fake sick and hide out in his cell to read, and to plan his next ingenious coup.

That reminded him; his gang would be home in a couple of hours. Kjeld, Benny and Yvonne were volunteering at the Valby Orphan's Home, helping serve Christmas Eve supper, leading the children in a singalong, and helping them hang their stockings. The idea nauseated Egon, but he still secretly admired their selflessness.

He smiled in spite of himself as he thought about his comrades. Egon had been orphaned when he was very young, and Benny and Kjeld were the closest thing to family that he could ever remember having…. He could even tolerate Yvonne at times… when she wasn't talking, of course.

As Egon turned from the window, the beautiful Christmas tree that Yvonne had painstakingly decorated caught his eye, and he moved closer to study it. There was a meager assortment of gifts around the tree's base, and he admired the cheery wrapping paper. His eyes narrowed as he saw his name on one of the tags, and he gave his trousers' legs a small tug before kneeling down on the floor to look closer.

'To Egon, with Love, Yvonne," read the tag on one of the gifts. 'Skidegodt, Egon! From Benny,' was printed on another, in his faithful getaway driver's familiar, uneven handwriting. 'Happy Christmas, Boss, love Kjeld,' read a third.

"Oh my God." Egon sat back on his heels, dumbstruck. He hadn't expected gifts. They knew he wasn't really a 'Christmas' person. He'd assumed all the presents under the tree would be exchanged between the Jensens and Benny. They'd never given him anything at Christmas before, why would they do so this year?

The answer was obvious, once he thought about it; Because this was the first year in nearly a decade that he wasn't in prison for the holidays.

He was overwhelmed. If ever he'd needed further proof of his gang's feelings for him, here it was, in gaily-wrapped boxes….

The diminutive man winced as he realized he had nothing under the tree to give his friends in return. He was suddenly, uncharacteristically, ashamed, and he quickly took off his bowler and ran his fingertips around the hatband. He found the tightly-folded, emergency 50 kroner note tucked out of sight behind the band.

Egon had taken to carrying the note the last time he was in prison, and now he fingered it thoughtfully. It wasn't much, but hopefully enough to buy small gifts for Benny, Kjeld and Yvonne. He had to give them something….

He checked his watch and muttered a curse. It was late, but maybe he could find a shop or two still open. Getting to his feet, he moved into the hall and snatched up his long, winter coat from its hook near the door. He shrugged into it, pulled on his gloves, and ducked out the door into the blizzard.

* * *

About an hour and a half later, the snow was still coming down, accompanied now by gusting wind. Egon fought against the gale as he struggled through the deep snow. So far, he'd had no luck finding a shop open, most likely because of the weather. At last, he gave up and decided return to Kjeld's place empty-handed. Perhaps he could take the gang out to dinner, instead….

He turned and started back, pausing at the corner for a moment. He rolled his eyes, remembering how the ever-protective Benny had scolded him about jaywalking. A career criminal who didn't approve of jaywalking; the irony.

Even though the streets were deserted, he obediently pressed the Crossing Signal button, then waited patiently for the Walk signal to come up. As he waited, he shifted from one foot to the other and hugged himself, trying to get warm.

He was so distracted by the cold, that by the time he looked up and saw the oncoming car, it was too late. The light had turned red. The vehicle's operator tried to stop, driving way too fast for the condition of the roads. The brakes locked up and the car skidded out of control, straight at Egon.

The criminal genius gave a yelp of alarm, and tried to dodge out of the car's path as it came up onto the sidewalk, but the front passenger-side fender struck his thigh. Egon was knocked backwards, tumbling over the guardrail and down the steep embankment beyond, landing hard, feet-first at the bottom. A flash of white-hot pain shot through his right ankle, and everything went black….

* * *

Partner. He was officially a partner at the firm….

Nilssen chuckled again, behind the wheel of his car. The company Christmas party was the last place he'd expected to be given a promotion, but damned, if the Big Boss hadn't sprung it on him. Everyone had raised a toast and he was soon surrounded by coworkers congratulating him.

Along with the congratulations came buying him drinks. He wasn't a big drinker, as a rule, but the joy and camaraderie went to his head, and before long, he'd had more than he should have.

Now he was fighting to keep the car straight on the snow-covered road, cursing his bald tires, but thankful beyond measure that the street was empty. New tires. A new car. He could afford a new car, now, with actual snow tires!

The car skidded on the snow and ice, and headed toward the curb. Nilssen cursed as he corrected his path. He had to concentrate on driving, not fantasizing about the wonderful things his new, fatter paycheck would provide.

He drove on, shaking his head to clear the fuzziness, chiding himself for not calling a cab or getting a ride with one of his more sober friends. Well it was too late, now. In this part of town, getting a taxi was difficult in sunny weather. At night, in the midst of a blizzard, it would be impossible. The streets were covered in deep snow over sheets of black ice.

Black ice. Black BMW. He would get a black BMW convertible. No, a Mercedes! A silver Mercedes….

He let his mind wander a tad too long, and suddenly there was a red stoplight looming in front of him. Instinctively, he slammed on the brakes, and the car fishtailed, then skidded sideways, bumping up over the curb onto the sidewalk to come to rest against the guardrail, stalling out.

Nilssen just sat there, stunned, breathing hard. He glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed his automotive faux pas, but as before, the street was deserted. He breathed a sigh of relief that he was unharmed, and gave a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't hurt anyone with his stupidity.

After gathering his thoughts for a few more minutes, he started the car back up. Silently vowing never to drink again, he carefully maneuvered off the sidewalk and onto the street to continue cautiously toward home.

He had no idea he'd just struck a man with his car, and that the man now lay unconscious at the bottom of the ditch beside the road….

The wind blew on, swirling the snow through the frigid air.

* * * * *


CHAPTER 2

Benny drove Kjeld and Yvonne home from the Orphanage, battling to get the Chevy through the deep snow. Just as he pulled up to the flat, the great American land-yacht of a car sputtered, and the engine died.

"What?" Benny exclaimed, noting the gas gauge on 'E'. "I JUST filled this rust bucket!" He gave the steering wheel an angry slap, then hissed and waved his sore hand.

"Forget it for now," Kjeld said, climbing out of the car and offering Yvonne his arm, "We don't need to be anywhere, and no gas station will be open in this mess, anyway. Let's go have a brandy and tell Egon all about the Orphan Home."

Soon, the trio was seated around the warm, cozy living room, enjoying brandies and chocolates, and admiring the Christmas tree. They were all a bit puzzled to discover that Egon wasn't home, but hadn't been worried at the time.

But that was two hours ago. Now, Benny was worried.

"Where IS he?" the tall man vocalized for the fifth time in twenty minutes, pacing the floor of the living room, moving again to peer through the curtains at the dark, snowy wasteland that was Valby, "It's been hours!"

"I thought he would have called by now," Kjeld said nervously, turning his cap in his hands, eyeing the silent telephone on the table. "Are you sure he didn't leave us a note or something?"

"YES Kjeld, I'm SURE!" Benny snapped.

The heavyset man's face fell, and he lowered his eyes.

Benny closed his eyes and took a deep breath, crossing to lay his hand on Kjeld's arm. "Sorry, old friend," he said quietly, "You didn't deserve that."

"It's OK," Kjeld replied, with a gentle smile, "I'm worried too. He's been gone too long for just a beer run."

"Something's happened to him," Benny said, shaking his head, "Or we'd have heard from him by now."

"Oh well, you know Egon," called Yvonne nonchalantly from the kitchen. "He was probably kidnapped again."

"Benny!" Kjeld said anxiously, looking up at the tall man for guidance.

"Kidnapped by WHOM, for crap's sake?" Benny asked, annoyed. "We haven't even robbed anyone, recently."

Yvonne came into the room with a tray full of open-faced sandwiches. "Egon is a grown man, I'm sure he's fine," she said cheerfully, setting the tray on the table. "Come now and eat something."

Benny looked out at the snow again, then wandered around the room, feeling helpless. He moved to the Christmas tree, and took some comfort in the glow of the tiny lights that sparkled on the branches. Nothing very bad could happen on Christmas Eve, right? That wasn't allowed….

"All right," he finally said, decisively, "I'm going out to look for Egon." He moved to the hall and collected his heavy winter coat from the hook by the door.

"Shall I come with you?" Kjeld asked, following him.

"No," Benny shook his head, "You and Yvonne stay here, in case he calls. I'll try and check in from a pay phone if I don't find him in the next hour or so." He felt around in his pockets for the keys to the Chevy, then remembered it was out of gas. "Damn," he muttered.

"What's wrong?" Kjeld asked, handing Benny his balaclava and gloves.

"I forgot, the car's dead," he said, tugging on the balaclava, and moving to the door. "I'll have to go on foot."

"Be careful!" Kjeld called after him as Benny ducked out into the snow. As he closed the door, he leaned back against it and closed his eyes, worrying about their leader.

"Please be safe, Boss," he murmured, "Please…."

* * * * *

Cold.

Pain. Cold. Pain in his thigh. He tried to move. More pain in his ankle.

Egon slowly opened his eyes, and then blinked rapidly as snowflakes fell on his face. Very carefully, he pushed himself into a sitting position, and took in his surroundings. There was a streetlamp above, so at least he wasn't in pitch darkness. But he was in a deep, snowy ditch, and he could feel the temperature dropping.

"Wonderful…."

Next, he took physical inventory. His thigh fell like he'd stopped a bullet with it, and he remembered being struck by the car. His body had a myriad of aches and pains from tumbling down the embankment. He would be a mess of bruises, tomorrow.

He gingerly tried to flex his cold feet, and hissed in pain. His right ankle was, if not broken, then badly sprained. On the upside, both his feet, as well as his hands, were getting numb, so the pain was lessening.

Or WAS that an upside? Going numb surely couldn't be a good thing. The cold bit through him, and he shivered, brushing the snow off his clothes and trying to collect his thoughts. He felt around briefly in the snow and located his bowler, and took some small, familiar comfort in settling it on his head.

"Wonderful," he reiterated, and carefully pulled himself onto his belly. Taking care not to bump his bad ankle, he started an Army-style low crawl, wincing as the snow slipped down the front of his coat. He started inching his way up the steep, slippery side of the ditch, but kept backsliding, making very little progress.

He kept at it, and eventually managed to get about halfway up to the sidewalk. But it was exhausting, and his limbs were freezing.

"Hello?" he called weakly, then cleared his throat and tried again, louder, "Hello?! Anyone up there? I need help!" He listened, but all he could hear was the wind whistling, and he shivered again.

"HEY!" he shouted, bracing himself on the snowy incline, "HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE!"

He collapsed onto his belly, wheezing and panting, trying to collect his strength. He was so cold. So sleepy. Maybe if he just took a quick nap, he'd have the strength to climb out….

Egon shook his head, trying to clear it. No! No, he couldn't fall asleep, he remembered that much. If he fell asleep, he was finished.

Rolling onto his back again, he blinked as the feathery, white flakes landed to melt on his flushed face.

He was in trouble. Big trouble. He was trapped, he had only a short time before he froze to death, and not a single soul knew where he was.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 3


"EGON!" Benny bellowed for the twentieth time through his cupped hands, but his voice was swallowed up by the snow and wind. He ran in place for a minute, trying to keep his circulation going, feeling colder with every passing moment.

"Oh God, man, where ARE you?"

He was running out of time and hope. He'd scoured the few blocks around Kjeld's flat, but couldn't find any trace of his danger-prone leader. Any footprints left by the criminal genius had been long-since obliterated by the falling snow.

Maybe Egon was already dead, and he was wasting his time…. Benny pushed aside the depressing thought and continued to search.

* * *

"Egon?"

His brow furrowed. Whose voice was that? It was a lady's voice. He didn't know that many ladies.

"Hey there… wake up, son."

Another voice, male this time. With incredible effort, he opened his eyes, and stared.

His parents were standing over him, smiling gently. His dead parents... whom he hadn't seen since he was four years old. They had both died in a car accident, and shortly after, he'd been sent to an Orphanage on the outskirts of Copenhagen.

"Mom?" he murmured in bewilderment, "D-Dad?" Wait, was that HIS voice? It was a child's voice.

He blinked again, and suddenly he was in his childhood home, sitting in front of a roaring fire, in a room gaily decorated for Christmas. There was a big fir tree in the corner, with presents piled underneath. Smells of cinnamon and evergreen were all around, and candlelight flickered from the wall sconces.

Egon got unsteadily to his feet, and looked down at his chubby little legs. He couldn't be more than four years old, and he was home, and it was Christmas, and he was happy, and he was the center of his parents' universe.

With a wide, gap-toothed smile, he held out his arms, and was scooped up and enveloped in a warm hug from his mother.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed joyously, burying his little face against her perfect, porcelain neck. Her perfume filled his nose, flooding his senses with memories of love and home and safety.

"Oh, my sweet boy," she cooed in her melodic voice, "My baby, how we've missed you!"

"I missed you too," little Egon wept, turning his head to look over at his father, standing there all dapper and smiling, with his dark hair and perfect moustache. The big man reached out, and Egon scrambled eagerly into his arms.

"Hi there, son," the handsome man murmured, hugging him tight, "How's my big boy?"

Down in the ditch, Egon closed his eyes and smiled, feeling strangely warm, despite laying in the snow. He felt himself drifting away… floating… going to join his family. It was so warm, now. He felt he would never be cold, again….


* * *


"EGON!" Benny wailed desperately, breathing hard from running in the cold weather. Tears were beginning to sting his eyes. With every passing moment, his chances of finding Egon alive were dwindling.

He paused at the corner to rest, and all at once, the clarion bells in the church across the street came to life, and 'Silent Night' rang out over the deserted street. Midnight. It was Christmas.

Benny sank down to sit in the snow, folding his gangly arms across his drawn-up knees, resting his brow on his arms. The waves of cold and hopeless despair washed over him, and he wept.

Then, an odd brightness slowly illuminated all around him, and he raised his head. He was bathed in a circle of golden light. He staggered to his feet, shielded his eyes, and looked straight up.

"What the Hell…?"

Was it a star? A helicopter? A searchlight? He couldn't say. But it was a light, and it was focused on him. As he watched in disbelief, the golden orb in the sky moved slowly ahead of him, and he followed.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, as he walked along, "Ridiculous…. There is NO WAY…."

But he had nothing else to go on, at this point, and he was desperate enough to give the ridiculous a try.


* * *

Little Egon clung to his father, snuggling into his soft, warm sweater. Then, abruptly, the man set him down on his feet, and the child looked up in confusion.

"Daddy?" he began, uncertainly.

"I'm sorry, little one," his father said tenderly, stepping away from him, "Your mother and I have to go, now, but don't worry, you'll be fine." He smiled down at his son.

"Wait!" Egon cried, reaching out. He tried to step toward his father, but his feet seemed anchored to the floor, "Daddy, wait! I want to come with you! Mommy!"

"You can't come with us, sweetheart," his mother said gently, backing away, taking her husband's hand, "It's not your time, yet." She smiled as she began to fade from view, dissolving into golden light.

"Wait!" The little boy wailed.

"It's OK, son," his father said, fading slowly away into the warm glow, "That's my big, brave boy, now. We'll see you again, soon."

"No!" Egon pleaded, as his parents slowly vanished before his eyes, "Please, don't leave me alone again! Don't leave me! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

"We'll always be here for you, darling," the disembodied voice of his mother soothed, "Don't be afraid."

"Please don't leave me…."


* * *


Benny was running now, trying to keep the mysterious glowing ball of light in view. Suddenly, he thought he heard a sound amidst the howling wind. A voice. Someone shouting. He paused, and listened, waiting, but whatever the sound was had stopped.

The light moved on a little further, then paused, hovering at the side of the road, just beyond the guardrail.

Rallying his strength, the tall man continued toward the odd beacon. As he neared the sidewalk, he noticed a large dent in the guardrail, and his heart began to pound….

"Don't leave me… don't leave me… please…." The faint, plaintive voice floated up from the ditch below.

"EGON!"


* * * * *


CHAPTER 4

"No, Fie, no word, yet," Yvonne said softly into the phone, trying to keep her voice down, "We'll keep you informed."

She hung up, and moved to stand over Kjeld, who sat silent and despondent on the couch. Gently, she gathered up the afghan from the back of the couch, and draped it over her husband's shoulders. Kjeld looked up, his face pale and drawn, and gave her a bleak smile as he tugged the warm blanket around himself.

"Thank you, honey," he murmured quietly.

Yvonne sat down on the couch and wrapped a comforting arm around him, not knowing what to say. What could she say? With every passing minute, Egon's chances of survival dwindled further and further, and now Benny was unaccounted for, too.

"Um… Merry Christmas?" she said tentatively, pointing at the clock. It was a quarter past midnight, and officially Christmas Day.

Kjeld buried his face in his hands and leaned against his wife, as she softly rubbed his back. Then, suddenly, there was the sound of someone kicking against the front door, and they both jumped to their feet. Kjeld charged out into the hall, unlocked the door and threw it open.

Gasping for air and coughing, Benny staggered into the hall, caked with snow. He had Egon cradled in his arms, all wrapped up in Benny's big coat. The gangly man's legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees.

"Benny, give him here!" Kjeld said sharply, and he and Yvonne gathered Egon's motionless form between them and carried him over to the couch. They laid him down there, and Yvonne leaned over him.

"Egon?" she called, "Egon!" she reached down to touch his face. "Oh, his skin is like ice!"

"W-warm…" Benny wheezed as Kjeld supported him over to the fireplace, "Must… get him warm… NOW!"

Yvonne quickly moved to the hearth and threw a few more logs onto the fire, then used the bellows to coax the flames higher.

"Blankets!" Benny gasped, stripping off his snowy clothes, "Get him out of… wet clothes!"

"I'll get them!" Yvonne dashed out of the room to collect the requested items.

Kjeld worked like mad, first removing Benny's heavy coat, and then Egon's coat underneath. Next, he began unlacing the ice-encrusted black shoes.

"Careful of his right foot," Benny warned from his place in front of the fire, sitting there unashamed in nothing but his boxers and undershirt, finally catching his breath, "Seemed to be hurting him, ankle's probably either broken or sprained."

"Yeah yeah," Kjeld said with a sharp nod. He carefully removed Egon's right shoe, then stripped off the soggy sock. He gently palpated the swollen ankle, wincing at the ugly, purple-red bruise that spread from the small man's toes to halfway up his calf. "Ouch, that's a bad sprain, all right. I'll bet that hurts…."

"Yvonne!" Benny called toward the bedroom, as he continued to warm himself by the fire, "An elastic bandage would be useful, if you have one!"

"I do!" came the reply from the master bedroom.

"He's got a nasty bruise on his thigh," Kjeld said as he pulled the black pinstriped trousers off Egon's skinny little legs.

"I'm pretty sure he was struck by a car," Benny said, "There was a new dent in the guardrail right next to the ditch where I found him."

"New?" Kjeld asked, "How could you tell it was new?"

"No rust," Benny replied, "Damaged metal rusts very fast in this part of the country."

"Wow… you're like Sherlock Holmes, or something," Kjeld said, impressed. "How DID you find him, anyway?"

"Wellll," Benny said, "I'm gonna need a few minutes before I can explain that," He ran a hand over his wet hair, "Especially since I'm not sure I believe it myself, and I was THERE."

As the two men finished stripping Egon down to his undershirt and boxers, Yvonne came hurrying back into the room with her arms full. She went to Benny first and handed him his bathrobe, then moved to kneel beside the couch, setting down the rest of her burden.

Kjeld picked up a folded blanket from the top of the pile and shook it out, before draping it over Egon and tucking it in all around his pale, cold body. He repeated the motion with a second, and then third blanket, until the criminal genius was swaddled up with nothing but his face exposed.

Benny took the bandage from Yvonne's hands and bound up Egon's injured ankle, before carefully tucking his foot back under the blankets.

"Don't leave me!" Egon suddenly cried out from beneath the nest of blankets.

Everyone froze. It was the first time the diminutive man had spoken since Benny had brought him home.

"Benny?" Kjeld said softly, motioning to the tall man.

Benny quickly came over to the couch and laid his hand against Egon's brow. He was still only semi-conscious, but it was clear he was starting to awaken.

"Egon?" the tall man called gently, stroking the wet, silvery hair, "Boss, can you hear me?"

"M-Mom… Dad... please…!" Egon pleaded, tears streaming from beneath his closed eyelids, "Don't leave me…."

"Shh," Kjeld breathed, leaning close. "Shh, Egon… it's OK… it's OK… we're right here, and we're not going to leave you."

"Come back… come back…," Egon moaned.

"What's wrong with him?" Yvonne whispered to Benny. The tall man just shrugged.

"He's delirious," Kjeld explained, "I've read about it. It happens sometimes with hypothermia, when the brain starts to warm up. The fact that he's talking is probably good, though."

He heavyset man leaned down and gently tousled his boss's hair. "Come on, Egon… wake up," he murmured.

Egon's brow furrowed, and his eyelashes trembled on his cheeks. He took a deep breath, and shifted slightly under the blankets.

"That's it, old friend," Benny coaxed, taking Egon's cold hand in both of his and rubbing it, "Come back to us, now."

The small man's heavily-lidded, blue-gray eyes fluttered open, and he glanced around with uncertainty at the faces leaning over him.

"What… what happened?" he murmured, "Where are my parents?" He tried to sit up, but Benny gently held him down with a hand on his chest.

"Easy Boss, take it slow," the younger man ordered, "You were hypothermic and hallucinating. Just rest. Just breathe."

The older man looked around in confusion.

"Do you remember anything that happened?" Yvonne asked, picking up a pillow and tucking it gently under Egon's head.

"A car," the safecracker said softly, "It skidded in the snow, knocked me over the guardrail, and I woke up at the bottom of a ditch."

"Right," Benny said, nodding, "That's where I found you."

"I tried to climb out," the older man continued, "But I was so cold, and I couldn't get much traction. So, I decided to rest for a little while."

"Do you remember anything else?" Benny asked quietly, cupping Egon's cold cheek in his big hand.

"I… thought I saw my parents," the criminal genius replied, "They spoke to me… hugged me… kept me warm. But then they just… faded away, into this sparkling, glowing…."

"Ball of golden light?" Benny finished, with a smile.

Egon's eyes widened slightly, and he nodded.

"Wait, Benny? Were you hallucinating, too?" Yvonne asked, looking over at him. She watched as the gangly man stood up and ran a hand over his hair.

"OK… I have a story to tell you all," he began, biting his bottom lip in uncertainty, "And I know how it's going to sound, so just… just bear with me…."

* * * * *

Once it was clear that Egon was out of danger, Yvonne called Fie back to let her and Børge know the older man was safe. Benny told them all the story of the mysterious light that had guided him to Egon. Nobody could explain it.

The snow finally stopped at around half-past-one in the morning. As soon as it did, the huge, heavy Copenhagen city snow plows were hard at work, rumbling and scraping paths through the streets, spitting salt and sand in their wake.

Kjeld helped Egon change into his pajamas and robe, while Yvonne made him some soup. Soon, the diminutive safecracker was bundled up in a blanket at the corner of the couch, sipping from a mug. His bad ankle was propped up on the coffee table, wrapped in an ice pack.

Benny announced he would sleep on the floor in Egon's room, to be close by in case the older man needed anything in the night. Egon tried to persuade him otherwise, but the faithful getaway driver wasn't having it. Egon didn't have the strength or the will to argue.

Now, the gang was quietly recuperating together in the sitting room, Yvonne and Kjeld snuggled together on the couch beside Egon, and Benny lounging, half-asleep in the armchair.

"God, I'm tired," Kjeld said, yawning, and stretching, "So I can only imagine how you and Egon feel, Benny!" He leaned toward his wife and they shared a kiss. He smiled at her, and nuzzled her nose with his own.

"Why don't you two go to bed?" Benny murmured, "It's late, we should all get some sleep."

"You don't need anything?" Yvonne asked drowsily, yawning.

"We're good," Benny said, with his eyes closed, head tilted back, "I'll be here if Egon needs me."

"OK, then," she acquiesced, getting to her feet with Kjeld. She leaned down and kissed the top of Egon's head, then came to Benny and kissed his cheek, making him blush and smile. "Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight!" Egon and Benny said in unison, and the couple disappeared into their bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"What's up with her?" Egon asked, cocking an eyebrow. "She's never kissed me before."

Benny shrugged. "I think she's a little tipsy," he confided. "But to be honest, we were all really scared we would lose you, tonight."

Egon just nodded, smiling slightly to himself.

Benny came to join him on the couch, and they sat there in a warm, companionable silence for a few minutes, both exhausted by the ordeal of the last few hours.

"Some night, eh?" the older man muttered, with a chuckle.

"No kidding," his right-hand man replied, stretching his arms back over his head, "How's the ankle? Need more painkillers?"

"I'm fine," Egon said, fondly, "You really went above and beyond the call of duty tonight."

"Thanks, Boss," the younger man said with a grin.

"Well I can't speak for the room," Egon yawned, "But this is definitely one Christmas I personally won't forget."

"And we didn't even open our gifts, yet," Benny pointed out.

"Gifts!" Egon exclaimed, sitting upright. "Ohh, DAMN it!"

"What's wrong?" Benny asked.

Egon shook his head sadly. "I wasn't able to get you and the others anything! I tried to go shopping and then the car hit me, and…." He trailed off, looking utterly miserable.

"Don't worry about it," Benny said comfortingly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," the mastermind said sadly, shaking his head, "You each got me something. All I wanted… was to give you something… anything… in return."

Benny slid over and gently pulled the older man into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Egon said again, sniffling, leaning into him.

"Hey," the tall man said softly, "Getting you back, safe, was the best gift any of us could ever hope for."

"Really?" Egon whimpered, returning the hug, pressing his face into the younger man's shoulder.

"Well, yeah," Benny murmured. "You're like the glue that holds us all together…. We love you, Boss." He turned his head to press a brief, brotherly kiss into Egon's hair.

The older man sniffled harder, and Benny just held him tighter.

"You're squeezing my tears out, you nitwit," Egon mumbled, tearfully.

Benny busted out laughing, reaching up to cradle his friend's head in his big hand.

* * * * *

Throughout Christmas Day, the gang enjoyed themselves with spirits, beer, chocolates, sandwiches, cigars, and opening their gifts. Egon received a small box of fine cigars from Yvonne. From Kjeld, he got a humidor in which to keep said cigars. From Benny, he got a hardhat, which sent everyone into peals of laughter.

A few hours later, the house was filled with the aroma of roasting turkey, wafting from the kitchen. The gang was crammed together on the couch like sardines, watching a marathon of Christmas films on the television and enjoying a case of wine that Børge and Fie had sent over. They had started out with glasses, like civilized people, but after a few refills, they had taken to just passing around the bottles.

Egon was at one end of the couch, his ankle propped up on the coffee table, with ice packs piled on. At the other end of the couch, Yvonne perched daintily, with her legs pulled up under her. Next to her was Kjeld, and Benny was in his usual spot at Egon's side, with his arms around both of them.

"Who's got the Red?" Yvonne asked, and Egon passed the Cabernet Sauvignon across Benny and Kjeld. She took a long pull on the bottle and then burped loudly.

"Bravo," all three men said in perfect unison, and the four of them laughed.

The late afternoon sun was just starting to filter in through the curtains, bathing the whole room in a rosy pink glow, when there was a knock at the door. Yvonne handed the wine to Kjeld and rose from her spot on the couch to answer it.

"Come on in," her voice floated in from the foyer, "I need to go and check on the turkey, but the guys are in the sitting room, just through here."

"Merry Christmas, everybody!" a familiar voice said, cheerfully.

Kjeld, Benny and Egon all turned to see Dynamite Harry Frandsen standing in the doorway, his smiling face ruddy from the cold.

"Harry!" Benny exclaimed with a smile, rising from the couch to hug his brother. "What a nice surprise!" He guided the other man to the armchair and motioned for him to sit.

"So how has everyone's Christmas been, so far?" The explosives fanatic asked, smiling and nodding politely as Yvonne placed a beer in his hand.

"Surreal," Benny replied, sitting back down on the couch and glancing at Egon, who was puffing away contentedly on one of his new cigars. "Wait until you hear THIS story!"

"Love to hear it, Benny," the fuzzy-haired man said, holding up a hand, "But first, I have some business to discuss with Egon."

Egon blinked in surprise, and cocked an eyebrow. "What? With me?"

"Yeah yeah!" Harry said in excitement, moving from the chair to kneel at Egon's feet. He reached inside his coat and produced a flat box, and laid it reverently in the older man's lap.

"It's not going to explode, is it?" Kjeld asked nervously, shifting a bit further away on the couch.

"No, no, no," Harry said, chuckling, "It's just a stack of documents someone dumped in the alley behind my shack. But there's some very interesting information in there, that I think Egon could put to good use!"

Egon took the wad of papers out of the box and leafed through them, his eyes growing wider with every page. He looked up at Harry, aghast. "You say you found this in an ALLEY?" he asked in disbelief.

"Pretty interesting, isn't it?" Harry said, bobbing his eyebrows. "It would be one hell of a coup…. If you're up to it, I mean."

Egon was quiet for a long time, chewing on his cigar as his eyes darted over the pages in his lap. At last, he looked up, nodded his thanks to Harry, and turned to Benny and Kjeld.

"Egon?" Benny asked, leaning close. "What's up?"

The older man smiled slyly, his blue-gray eyes sparkling with renewed energy.

"I have a plan."


MAY YOUR HOLIDAYS BE MAGICAL
Love, Morphofan

THE END

(If anyone wants to translate this story, please feel free.)
Thunder
Beiträge: 38
Registriert: 03.03.2009, 02:34

Re: Fanfiction: "An Olsen Gang Christmas"

Beitrag von Thunder »

Hallo!
Schöne Geschichte-Danke dafür!! Schöne Weihnachten euch allen!
morphofan
Beiträge: 16
Registriert: 18.11.2019, 20:21
Land: Vereinigtes Königreich

Re: Fanfiction: "An Olsen Gang Christmas"

Beitrag von morphofan »

Thank you! I'm sorry, I thought I said thank you already. :D
morphofan
Beiträge: 16
Registriert: 18.11.2019, 20:21
Land: Vereinigtes Königreich

Re: Fanfiction: "An Olsen Gang Christmas"

Beitrag von morphofan »

Jeg har oversat min Olsen Banden-julehistorie på dansk med Google Translate, her. Sandsynligvis nogle fejl, fordi Google Translate ikke er perfekt. :-)

EN OLSEN BANDEN-JUL

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623637
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