The Christmas Angel (AU,M/L,ADULT) (Complete)
Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2004 2:58 pm
Winner - Round 8

The Christmas Angel
Disclaimer : I, in no way, am associated with the actors, writers, producers, etc. of 'Roswell'. The rights to the show are not mine. Would I treat 'Roswell' the way TPTB did?
Category : M&L
Rating : ADULT (eventually)
Summary : This is in response to a challenge as laid down by 'Faith Evans' at roswellfanfic.com a few Christmases ago. What's Christmas without repeats?
Angels by Robbie Williams
I sit and wait,
Does an Angel contemplate my fate
And do they know,
The placed where we go,
When we're gray and old,
'cos I've been told,
That salvation lets their wings unfold
So when I'm lying in my bed,
Thoughts running through my head,
And I feel that love is dead,
I'm loving angels instead,
And through it all she offers me protection,
A lot of love and affection,
Whether I'm right or wrong,
And down the waterfall,
Wherever it may take me,
I know that life won't break me,
When I come to call she won't forsake me,
I'm loving angels instead
When I'm feeling weak,
And my pain walks down a one way street,
I look above,
And I know I'll always be blessed with love,
And as the feeling grows,
She breathes flesh to my bones,
And love is dead,
I'm loving angels instead,
And through it all she offers me protection,
A lot of love and affection,
Whether I'm right or wrong,
And down the waterfall,
Wherever it may take me,
I know that life won't break me,
When I come to call she won't forsake me,
I'm loving angels instead
***
Part 1 - "Ghosts"
Elsepeth hurried through the billowing clouds of mist that lay along the heavenly paths towards the Great Meeting Chamber, where, as an angel in training, she would receive her final task. The successful completion of this task would result in the ringing of the great bell, and Elsepeth would join the ranks of Guardian Angels. More than anything, this diminutive young girl with the lustrous flowing locks of dark hair wanted to gain her Angel Wings, and go on to become known as one of the greatest Guiardian Angels of all time. But young Elsepeth had a problem. For all her enthusiasm and hard work, she was what is euphamistically known as... a 'klutz'. This would not be Elsepeth's first attempt at passing her final test. Unfortuneately for her, she had tried before... and had failed... miserably. Twice.
Elsepeth first attempt had been the simple task of delivering a little rain to the parched lands surrounding a small farm in Western Australia, struck by a terrible drought. A prayer had been received from the occupants of the farm, begging for water to help not the owners, but the animals that were dying of thirst. Elsepeth's teacher and mentor, Alex, had agreed that it was a simple task that the girl was more than capable of and so this duty had been entrusted to her. But upon arrival in the proverbial dust bowl, Elsepeth felt sorry for the people of the blighted region and decided that she wanted to do more for this unselfish family. She used her blessings to open the rain valves more than she was authorized to open them. Overthinking her task, she had decided that the answer, and her real test, was to fill the reservoirs with water and to ensure that the ground received a thorough soaking so that it would be moist enough to support the growing of crops through the coming year. Everyone would be happy, and God would receive his due thanks and praise. The light rain became a torrential downpour. The hard, sunbaked ground could not soak up the deluge, and unable to close the valve, she flooded the region, turning the once fertile land into a barren waste as the flood tore the topsoil away. She thereby forced the inhabitants to give up farming altogether and move away to the city, where they had turned away from their god. She had failed.
As well as her good heart, Elsepeth had a steely determination. Nothing was more important to her than becoming a Guardian Angel, so she had put herself through the training process a second time. She worked doubly hard to ensure that she would be granted her second chance, throwing her heart and soul into her lessons. For the final task of her second year, Elsepeth had been given an opportunity to use her abilities to prevent a charming old homeless woman from using a derelict building as her shelter for the night. The building was unsafe and she would surely die if she slept there. But while watching over her subject, Elsepeth had overheard the old woman telling a passerby that she used to live in that house, way back when she was married and happy, and was taking a last look before her old home was demolished. Elsepeth decided that she would grant this old woman's wish and had used her blessing to protect her as she entered the dangerous building and walked from room to room, remeniscing. But the ladies presence had attracted a small cat. And its owner, a young child who could not read the danger signs that the house was condemned, had followed that cat into the old building.
The cat had managed to get itself stuck under the rotting floorboards, which caused the girl to burst into tears. Feeling sorry for her, Elsepeth decided to free the young girl's pet. As Elsepeth used her abilities to lift the floorboards so that the cat could jump free, she accidentally lifted one whole side of the house, causing an internal wall to fall down. This in turn tore the floor apat, collapsing into the basement. Elsepeth herself had fallen through a hole, and was half buried by falling debris. Because of where she came from, she was unhurt, and she managed to provide a soft landing for the old woman, who had been surprised to have landed on something other than wood and concrete. The whole ordeal had surprisd Elsepeth and she was unfortuneate to disable her cloak of invisibility. The old woman saw her and demanded to know who Elsepeth was, and from where she had suddenly materialized. Far from freeing it, Elsepeth had scared the cat so much that it had bolted into a dark corner beneath the stone chimney breast that was about to topple over. The little girl was even heading towards the cat to try and rescue it herself. It would have been a disaster, especially as the noise had attracted a number of bystanders, had Alex not call the Angel Rescue Service. It had been the first time in over a century that they had been required. There were a few memories that had to be 'altered' that day, a task that was not often employed and only then in extreme circumstances with the permission of Gabriel himself. Elsepeth had become the first Angel in Training ever to have failed a second time.
Against the advice of Alex, and many other senior Angels who were displeased with the young trainee, Elsepeth enrolled on the Guardian Angel course for a third time. Nothing would prevent her in her desire to become a fully fledged Guardian Angel. But, in spite of her clumsy ways, she was a popular trainee. She always had a smile on her face and her sunny, cheerful disposition was infectious. She never showed the signs of the setbacks she received, or if she did, she never let anyone see. Everyone knew of her burning desire to become an Angel, and so, feeling sorry for the young girl, the powers that be gave their permission for her to try again. Elsepeth worked harder and longer than her peers, all of whom she helped with their own studies, as and when she could. However, for them, it all seemed to come so easy, but Elsepeth, who had been through this twice before, seemed unable to grasp many of the simplest concepts. It seemed that overthinking often overcomplicated things for her. She reached the final test through hard work and dedication alone.
***
"Just close your eyes, count to ten, and go, Max," Max Evans told himself. The tall dark haired young man looked older than his twenty-four years. His features looked drawn and gaunt, while his eyes, which lacked emotion of any kind, were cold and lifeless. He stood by the busy intersection on Fifth Avenue and watched the heavy traffic rushing by. The air was filled with exhaust fumes and the constant beeping of the car horns. Max took a deep breath, and closed his eyes tightly.
"One, two, three," he counted as the traffic continued to roar past.
"Four, five, six," he continued as the honking sounds increased.
"Seven, eight, nine," the traffic sounded louder, heavier.
"Ten."
With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, Max Evans stepped out into the oncoming traffic. Contrary to what he expected, there was no squealing of brakes, no blaring horns and no abusive calls. Neither was there the painful impact that would finally take away his pain. Nothing happened. After he had taken half a dozen strides, Max opened one eye to see what was happening. The pedestrian crossing lights had turned green. Max had the right of way and so the traffic had stopped to allow the thick stream of pedestrians to cross.
"Looks like I won't be joining you today," he sighed, looking upwards.
He dug his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill December air. He continued walking through the large crowds of pedestrians along Fifth Avenue, towards Herald Square. With a rueful backward glance at the traffic that had now begun again, Max continued along the busy street.
"Ho, ho, ho," a large man clad in a red Santa Clause suit bellowed, while swinging a large hand bell up and down. To the sound of his constant bell ringing, he stood in front of a large pot behind which a sign advertised that any donations were going to the needy. People were dropping in loose change as they hurried past and were rewarded with the jolly looking old man calling "Merry Christmas!" to them.
Max walked past the man, looking across the road as though something important had caught his attention. The Santa Clause was not fooled. He had seen this very action performed too many times now, not just as Santa, but as a homeless man down on his luck. If the passer-by pretended that he didn't see you, he would not need to feel guilty for ignoring you.
"What?" he shouted at the young businessman. "You can't even spare a dime?"
He was surprised when the young man turned to face him.
"Excuse me?" Max asked, glaring in sudden anger. He startede walking toward him. "Listen, pal. I pay my taxes, okay? And those taxes help fund homes and refuges for the homeless of this city. And I donate large sums of money to local charities. I give more than my fair share."
"Ooooo," the man raised his hands in mock genuflection. "Well good for you. All taxes and tax deductible, eh? That's real big of you. But what about on your personal level? How much of your own money do 'you' give? Who are you anyway? Ebenezer Scrooge Jr.?"
"I ought to get the cops to take to in, harassing people like this."
"And you don't harass people? I bet every big deal you make is made by harassing people. Well, I'll tell you what, Mr. Scrooge. I won't mind betting that like your namesake, you get visited by a ghost of your own. Perhaps you might get lucky and see the real meaning of Christmas. Maybe you will even get a life!"
"A Christmas Ghost," sneered Max as he turned away from the old man. "Don't make me laugh, old man. What difference would one more make?"
If there was any particular time of year that Max had to admit to not liking, it would now. Max Evans hated Christmas.
Quickly putting the demented old man out of his mind, Max continued up the street. He was in Herald Square now, with the famous stores that attracted so many shoppers, and tourists to their city. He glanced enviously at Macy's. Even in daylight, the Christmas decorations, both the ones installed by the city, and the ones put up in the store windows and doorways were very impressive. Many of the pedestrians were walking along, looking this way and that, making gentle 'oooh-ing' and 'aaah-ing' sounds at what they saw. There had even been a few fender-benders in the traffic as drivers had their eyes on the decorations rather than the traffic lights. But Max Evans scarcely noticed. It was not the decorations he felt envy for, but the fact that theirs was a household name, while his was not. He lowered his lifeless eyes back to the sidewalk, swerving to avoid the people in his way, while he cursed the imbeciles who stopped suddenly in front of him, to take a closer look at the cursed decorations.
"I hate Christmas," he spat at no one in perticular.
At last, he reached his destination.
"The car, tomorrow, I think," he said to no one in particular. "Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll crash."
Finally, he walked up the broad steps in front of a grand old building, and walked to the front door of 'ML Evans', one of New York's finest shopping experiences.
"Good morning, Mr. Evans," the uniformed doorman saluted before opening the door to Max.
"Morning," Max grunted as he walked through the door, hardly even noticing the man, let alone thanking him. He walked into the large interior of ML Evans, but hardly noticed a thing. ML Evans was a store on a similar scale to Macy's, perhaps larger, grander, but not quite as famous.
"Good morning, Mr. Evans," the sales clerks all curtsied, or bowed as he walked through to the executive elevators at the back of the store. Max would have preferred to use the staff entrance at the back of the building, but his great grandfather had started the tradition of entering through the front entrance just after he had moved the store to it's current location back in the thirties. Max continued walking through the store, with his eyes fixed firmly on the tiled floor. As always, he ignored each and every one of the employees. He finally reached the elevator, and was soon safely inside, heading to the penthouse offices where he would spend another day wrapped up in the business affairs of his company. Max Evans was the current owner of ML Evans, the role he had inherited on his twenty-first birthday. He often felt stifled by the decades of tradition, and longed to break free of them, but the memory of his parents prevented him.
"Good Morning, Mr. Evans," the young woman met him as he emerged from the elevator. Max knew that the doorman would have called ahead to warn the staff that he was on his way up. As she did every morning, his secretary was waiting for him with his desk diary. She would brief him on his day's events as he walked through to his office.
"Good morning, Miss Sanchez," he replied; though he did not look at her. Max had learned long ago that it didn't pay to ignore his secretary. It didn't make her go away. She woyld wait patiently all day if she had to, until she discharged her duties. It was easier to work with her and she was, after all, very efficient. His father had struck gold the day he had hired her.
"Mr. Evans?" There was a hint of trepidation in her voice. "The girls have asked if they can decorate the offices. You know, make it look festive."
Max looked at her and then at the office, noticing how everyone watched expectantly.
"Only in their time, and only if it stays out of my way. And I will fire the first one who tries to put anything in my office, or on my door. Now, what do I have on for today?"
"Yes Mr. Evans. I'll tell them. We'll keep it simple and discreet. Like last year. And the year before that." She started looking at the open page in the diary. "You have that tour with the Swedish delegation this morning, and this afternoon, you have the meeting for departmental heads. And we need to let The Grand Hotel know the numbers for the staff dinner dance on Christmas Eve. Will you be bringing a date, sir?"
"Firstly," Max sighed. "I am not a sir. Sirs are people from England who get hit on the head with a sword. Secondly, you know very well that I don't attend those things. So no. I will not be bringing a date."
"Just checking sir... ah, Mr. Evans."
"Do I have much on for tomorrow?"
"Let's see," Miss Sanchez flipped to the next page of the desk diary. "No, only your lunch with the Chairman of the Bank. Oh, you will be giving the Mayor's wife the full VIP tour in the morning. And in the afternoon, you have to visit the induction room to greet the new employees. Oh, and we open Santa's Grotto tomorrow, too. Perhaps you would like to..."
"No," Max flatly refused. "Get Valenti to do it. He is the General Manager after all."
"Yes, Mr. Evans, of course," Miss Sanchez paused. "It's just that your father liked to..."
"No!" Max shook his head. "Why must I do everything that reminds me of them, and... that night?"
***
The Great Meeting Chamber was not really a chamber at all, but a large cloud that floated high above the others, giving a terrific view of all the heavens. From the chairs of the great table, carved from pure white marble, one could see Valhalla, Elysium, and even the Happy Hunting Grounds. Any Heaven that was ever believed to exist by mortal man, far below, existed here, and was visible from the Chamber. Every faith, every belief and every mythology was represented in Heaven, and each faith had their own brand of Angels, that were tested in their own ways, at their own times.
As it was approaching the time that the mortals below called Christmas, the senior Angels that represented the Christian world were meeting to allocate the final tasks of their Trainee Angels. One by one, the trainees were named, and the tasks allocated and crossed of the great list of prayers received. Alex was the only nervous teacher there. His nervousness was not so much for his students but because he was quick at mental math. Alex knew that that there were one hundred students currently waiting for their final task, but he could only count ninety-nine prayers on the great list. He had this dreadful feeling that Elsepeth would not be allowed her chance to gain her wings after all. No one else seemed to have noticed the mismatch.
At last, the final task had been allocated. The ChairAngel, Francis, nodded with satisfaction as the last task had been removed from the list. When he glanced down at the list, his face fell.
"Oh my," Francis exclaimed. "We have another name on the list, but we have no task to allocate."
"What?" demanded Richard, a senior Angel, as pandemonium broke out around him. "How can that be? Gabriel himself checks those lists. Surely he would have ensured that the numbers tallied?"
"Who is the last trainee?" asked Joan, their most experienced teacher.
"Elsepeth," Alex offered, not needing to see the list. "The last trainee is Elsepeth."
"He's right," Richard confirmed. "It's Elsepeth."
"Well, that explains it," Brigid offered. "Gabriel has decided that she isn't fit to be an angel."
"That most becoming of you, Brigid," Alex complained. "You know how hard the poor girl has been trying."
"I agree," Brigid smirked. "She's been very trying. Very trying indeed."
"Nevertheless, she has completed the course, and deserves her chance," Alex defended his unfortunate student. "You know how much this means to her. You know how badly she wants to be an Angel. She deserves to be allowed her chance."
"Perhaps we should put it to the vote," Joan mediated. "And if we agree she should have the chance, perhaps we might find some task ourselves."
""But what's the point? No matter how simple the task, she will find some way to fail. Face it, she is not Guardian Angel material."
"But she completed the course." Alex objected.
"I agree with Joan," Richard decided. "We will vote on it."
"That will not be necessary," a newcomer interrupted.
Every angel at the table rose, and bowed as Gabriel himself approached the meeting. "The reason that there was no prayer left on the list, was because we will not be using a prayer for Elsepeth's final task."
"But what shall she do?" objected Alex. "If not the answering of a prayer, what shall she do?"
"I shall send Elsepeth to Earth, as a mortal girl, to help someone find themselves."
"What?" Alex's objection was the loudest. Everyone was shocked. This was not the sort of task entrusted to a trainee.
"But that is usually granted to only the most experienced of Angels. This is an impossible task. Her power is not enough to help her with this sort of task."
"She will not be required to use her power to perform this, for that would be of little use in this case. But fear not, Alex, she will have you watching over her, for you shall accompany her. You will not be visible to the mortals. Though you may assist her in whatever way you see fit, you must not do anything for her task unless she requests it, and you know the limitations that you must work to. No raising the dead and no providing proof. You know. Standard religion stuff. She will have no need for her power, because she shall be tested on how she is able to use her greatest strength, for that will suit her much better for this test.
"And what is her greatest strength?" Alex asked, looking confused.
"Why, Alex?" Gabriel smiled. "You of all people should know that, having worked with the charming girl for three years. Elsepeth's greatest strength is not in her power, or her determination to succeed. It's not even her burning desire to pass the final task and hear that bell ring for her. She has worked so hard at becoming a Guardian Angel, that she has forgotten why. We could remind her, but she must discover this for herself. You see, Elsepeth's greatest strength is her enormous heart."
***
"That was very clever of Gabriel, wasn't it?" Joan asked Richard as the two of them walked back to the common room after the meeting had drawn to a close.
"In what way?" he asked."
"Well, surely you remember what happened last Christmas?"
Richard nodded with frown on his face. Elsepeth's enthusiasm for Christmas was almost as notorious as her clumsiness. And when the two of them mixed, it was a recipe for disaster. Seldom a Christmas Day went by that did not involve Elsepeth and a mountain of broken crockery, and a number of guests with food or drink, or both... spilled over them. To make matters worse, Elsepeth invariably attempted to make amends for her clumsiness, and always ended up inflicting more pain of some kind upon the unfortunate victim.
"I mean," Joan continued, "it's His two thousand and first birthday. You don't turn two thousand and one every day, you know. His Father wants to throw a big party, you know, and invite the other deities and demigods. Can you imagine the chaos Elsepeth would cause? I mean, what if she did something stupid, like trip over Thor's hammer? Or drop one of Zeus' thunderbolts?"
"So you think Gabriel gave her this task to get rid of her? That makes sense, I guess."
"To get rid of her, yes, and to punish her too. I'm told He was really furious that the Angel Rescue Service had to be called. Rumor has it He lost his temper over the memory thing. Apparently, she's not to return until she has succeeded. That's the last we will have seen of her for a while."
"Is her task really that difficult?"
"Didn't you hear? Oh yes, it's difficult, all right. It's impossible. The one she is being set to has relatives up here. His mother has already requested that someone save him. At the time, our best Salvation Angel was put on the job, because these were pretty special people. The angel didn't even come close. He's as hopelessly lost as you can be. It's a shame Alex was made to go with her, though. I was hoping to hear him and his friends play their harps again."
***
In a narrow alley beside a large underground car-parking complex, a doorway appeared out of nothing. The doorway opened, allowing a bright white light to illuminate the alley that had not seen the light of the sun in a number of decades. If anyone had been there to witness this doorway, they would have seen a young strangely dressed girl step through. Because of her clothing, it would have been difficult to put an age to her, but she appeared to be twenty-one. She wore a long, plain colored, woolen dress under a pale brown raincoat, and carried a long, pale green umbrella in one hand and a large, battered suitcase full of similar dresses in the other. Her dark hair was pinned up in a bun. She looked more like an extra from an English Victorian drama than a New York City girl. What the onlooker would not have seen was the young ageless looking man who stepped out beside her.
"Gabriel choose your wardrobe?" Alex asked looking Elsepeth up and down with disapproval. Alex was wearing baggy blue jeans and a bright green bomber jacket open to his waist. His black t-shirt had the legend 'Foo Fighters' printed across his chest. He wore a blue baseball cap with 'NY' stitched to it, with with its peak pointing backwards.
"Yes," she beamed. "He was ever so helpful. He even arranged somewhere for us to live."
"Uh-huh," Alex smirked.
Alex led Elsepeth along the alleyway, towards the road.
"Now be careful, Elsepeth," Alex warned her. "Life down here is not like it is up there. For a start, not everyone is as nice. The place is full of people who do not believe, and they tend to lock people who claim to be angels in a special hospital, so it might be best not to mention this to anyone."
"Okay," Elsepeth smiled. "What else?"
"Well, I know that you are pretty much immortal down here, and they have nothing that can actually harm you, but you mustn't draw attention to yourself. You have to watch out for the traffic."
"What's traffic?" Elsepeth asked, as she stepped out of the shadows of the alley and into a shaft of sunlight that had found its way through the towering buildings. "Ooops." Momentarily blinded by the bright winter sunshine, she tripped over a torn cardboard box, and stumbled out into the street. There was a sudden squeal of locked tyres, the blaring of a high pitched horn, and low, sleek, black automobile slammed into Elsepeth, throwing her back into the alley and into a pile of cardboard boxes."
"Elsepeth, meet traffic," Alex commented dryly.
The driver of the black car, a tall dark haired young man, leapt from the vehicle and rushed to Elsepeth's side. His face was white, filled with a sick dread.
"Oh, god!" he cried with fear in his voice, "Lady, are you all right. Oh please be all right." He was at her side in an instant, pulling the tangled cardboard from her.
"Yeah," she smiled gently. "Yeah, I'm okay. No harm done."
Max stepped back from the young girl who started to rise, and emitted a silent sigh of relief.
"You stupid woman!" he barked, all traces of concern vanishing instantly. "You idiot! Why don't you watch where you going? You could have been killed!"
"Well, maybe you should take more care with your traffic," she replied. "I mean, maybe drive it more slowly."
"Yeah, twist it back on me. I suppose next you'll claim you actually are hurt to try and sue me or something. Well, it will be a long fight, 'casue I have some mighty fine lawyers."
"Believe me," she sneered, something that was definitely uncharacteristic. "I want nothing from you!"
She picked up her suitcase and her umbrella, and walked out of the alleyway. She didn't see the dark haired young man climb back into his car and look into the mirror. She would not have seen how the color was still drained from his face, or how his hands shook violently as he reached for his ignition key. She would not have known that rather than start his engine, the young man had collapsed into a shaking fit of hysterical crying.
***
"Isn't this exciting, Alex?" Elsepeth beamed as she stared out of the subway train's windows at the New York City buildings that glided by. The rest of the passengers, lost in their newspapers, ignored yet another strangely clothed 'loony' who talked to herself in their midst, especially one who kept tripping up other passengers with the umbrella of hers. Three people had already received bruised shins from her suitcase when she boarded the train. "And we still have two weeks till Christmas. Maybe when the job's done, they'll let me stay and watch all the celebrations for His birthday."
"Um, you might want to wait till we're alone before you talk to me, Elsepeth," Alex laughed. "They can't see me, remember?"
"So?"
"So, I think your fellow commuters might think that you are a few stanzas short of a hymn."
"Oh, right," she sparkled. "I see." Elsepeth mimed a zipping action across her lips.
Alex shook his head with a laugh. "You seem to have recovered from your altercation back there," he pointed out.
"With Mr. Arrogance?" she laughed. "Well, I wasn't hurt, after all. I think he came off the worse. But I am sorry I lost my temper a bit. He was just so mean. You were right about people not being nice. Anyway, I have an important job to do, and I won't let petty people like him side-track me."
"Come on," he chuckled as the train drew to a stop. "Washington Heights, this is our stop."
The neighborhood was not what they had expected. The roads, at least the parts not hidden by abandoned cars, were filthy. The buildings were old and in much need of repair. Dotted along the side of the roads were garbage cans with fires burning in them. Men of all origins with nothing better to do stood around the fires, sometimes adding another stick of wood, trying to remain warm in the biting December wind.
"A slum!" Alex accused. "Gabriel has sent us to a slum."
"He said this was a nice district," Elsepeth defended the absent Angel.
"Gabriel needs to get out more," Alex observed dryly. "This was probably a nice neighborhood at the same time that your clothes were in fashion."
"Yeah," Elsepeth observed after looking at some of the clothes that the other women were wearing. "I guess they do seem a little..."
"Antique?"
"Yeah."
"Elsepeth, as soon as you have some money, you are going to change your wardrobe. Now, where are you staying?"
"Oh, here we are, look," Liz pointed up the grimy staircase. "Flat 7C"
"Top floor, huh?" Alex observed looking up the tall tenement building. "I hope the air's cleaner up there.
"Hey, my man, looky, looky," a young man in outlandish clothing drawled as he emerged from the building with two friends. They had the smell of alcohol about them "Hey baby, was happening?"
"Oh, hi," Elsepeth smiled. "I'm just moving in."
The three men moved closer.
"Hey, we can have ourselves a house warming party. I bet you like to par-tay."
"Uhm, no," she smiled. She seemed to have no fear for the situation in which she found herself. "Sorry. I'm not really sure what a par-tay is."
"Well, you can learn," one of them leered.
"Well, I'm afraid I don't have time. I have this important job to do, see, and when I have done it, I'll be going..."
"Now don't go gettin all unfriendly on us," another placed his hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we just take you upstairs and we can show you how we can be real neighborly."
Elsepeth turned to face the man who placed his hand on her shoulder. Her umbrella caught the other man's foot, tripping him over on the icy pavement where he fell down the staircase to the basement entrance, crying out in pain as he bounced.
"Oh, I am so sorry," she exclaimed, turning to see how badly the man had hurt himself. Her umbrella whipped around and stabbed into the first mans groin, causing him to collapse with a scream of agony. The third man ran away, very quickly.
"Leave them, Elsepeth," Alex ordered, as Elsepeth was about to tend to the hurt men. "Just get up into your room."
Safely locked behind the door to her flat, only after Alex had magically locked it, the two of them looked at the disgusting condition their new home was in. The walls were damp, and the floorboards were bare and filled with holes. Old paint was peeling in large strips from the damp walls. There was absolutely no furniture, just upturned crates. It would be impossible to live here.
"It's a little bit..." Elsepeth started.
"I'll find you a new room," Alex said through teeth clenched in anger. "In a better place. You stay here and wait for me."
***
The room that Alex had found for her was in an Area called East Village, on Avenue D.
"It's a much better area then the last one," Alex informed her. "Though it's still an area of some poverty. I believe that you will be safe here, at least."
"Thank you, Alex," Elsepeth smiled, closing the door behind her.
"I wasn't able to do anything about your clothes, though," he continued. "There's a blond living right next door to you. Perhaps, one you've made friends with her, you could go clothes shopping with her."
"I'd like that, Alex," Elsepeth smiled. "Making friends and shopping."
"One other thing, Elsepeth," Alex said in a slow cautious manner. "Your name. It's a little like your clothing, kind of old fashioned. Maybe you should think of something different. You know, to use down here."
"I like my name, Alex," Elsepeth pouted. "Gabriel gave it to me when I arrived in Heaven. I don't want to change it. Why should I?"
"Well, I just think that you should," Alex insisted. "You need to make a good impression, and until you get new clothes, it's going to be hard enough as it is. Old clothes, we can explain."
"I'll think about it."
"Okay, so who is the target. Who's soul do we have to save?"
"I don't know," Elsepeth answered. "Gabriel said that I would know him when I bump into him."
"Elsepeth," Alex sighed. "No offence, but you have already bumped into half of New York. It could be anybody."
***
There was an insistent knocking at the door. After a look of confusion at Alex, Elsepeth went to the door, and opened it. The blonde whirlwind did not wait to be invited in. She swept past an amazed Elsepeth.
"Hi," she announced the instant the door was open. "My name's Maria. Maria DeLuca. I live right next door to you, and saw you moving in earlier, but I thought I'd give you a chance to, you know, like settle in before I introduced myself. People... well, not just any people, my dumb ass of a boyfriend really, he says I have a habit of coming on too strong. He says that I don't give people a chance to get to know me before I give them the chance to decide if they really want to be my friend. He says that I'm like, this bull in a china shop. But I say what the hell? I mean, one of us could be struck dead by lightening tomorrow and we would never have been friends, you know? So go for it, I always say. So now your settled... is this all your stuff? I thought I would come and say hi. Hi."
Elsepeth started to laugh, not at this crazy girl, Maria, but at Alex who was walking behind the chattering girl using his hand as a puppet, making chattering motions.
"Too strong?" Maria asked, looking at Elsepeth, clearly upset that she was laughing.
"No, no," Elsepeth smiled warmly. "Don't mind me. I'm, ah... not used to people being so..."
"Talkative?"
"Uhm, no. Sorry."
"No," Maria frowned. She collapsed into one of the two armchairs. She looked miserable. "It's me who should be sorry. Michael's right about me."
"Michael?
"Michael, my boyfriend. He says that when I first meet people, I come on too strong, that I talk too much."
"Well..."
"Look, I'm sorry, I don't even know your name."
"Elsepeth," she answered, glaring at Alex who started to pout.
"Elizabeth?" Maria checked. "Cool name. So, Liz? Your clothes. Do you dress like that for a reason? You and me, we so have to hit the mall."
"Oh, yeah," Liz looked down at her clothing, and sat in the other armchair. "That's going to have to wait. I don't start work till tomorrow, so I won't have any money for a while."
"Tell you what. It's Thursday tomorrow, right? With the rush towards Christmas, it will be late night shopping. How about we go to the mall after work, and use my plastic. You can pay me back when your checks start rolling in."
"Maria, you don't know me from Adam. Why would you do this for me?"
"It's what friends are for."
"But we only just met?"
"And were friends, aren't we? There's something about you. I trust you, Liz. I feel like I have known you, like forever. I know you won't cheat me. Maybe we can get you a few home comforts for in here, too."
There was another knock on the door.
"Maria, are you in there?" a young man's voice called out.
"Michael? Is that you?" Maria called. She turned to Liz. "My boyfriend, do you mind?"
Liz shook her head.
"Come on in, Michael," Maria called again. "Come on in and meet our new neighbor and my new friend.
The young man who entered was tall, with his short, light brown hair, combed upwards in a spiky hair style. He looked a little frightening until he stood next to Maria. He only gave a cursory look at Liz.
"How come you're so late?"
"The 'Grinch' had us working late. He says that productivity has dropped and that just because it's Christmas is no reason to shirk our responsibilities. It won't surprise me to hear that he's cancelled the Dinner Dance on Christmas Eve. He threatens it every year, just cause he can't decide which of his hundreds of bimbos he should take as his date."
"No, he would never do that," Maria shook her head. "His father started that tradition. I know he's a lot of things, but he worshipped the ground his parents walked on. He won't cancel that because it's like a memorial to his dad. Besides, I already have my dress, and let me tell you, it's a killer."
"What's this?" Liz asked.
"Oh,my bad. Where are my manners?" demanded Maria. "Liz, this is Michael. Michael Guerin. He's my boyfriend. Sorta."
"What do you mean, sorta?" he demanded with a smile.
"And Michael, this is Liz. She just moved in today."
"I never even knew the room was empty. Hi Liz, pleased to meet you."
Liz rose to meet Michael who was approaching her. They shook hands.
"I'd offer you some refreshments, but I haven't had a chance to..."
"Oh, well, hey, Liz," Maria started to bounce in her chair. "Why don't you come next door with us? You can have dinner with Michael and I. You don't mind, do you, Michael?"
"No, not at all," Michael confirmed with a pained smile.
"No," Liz shook her head. "I couldn't. Besides, you two wanted to be alone. You've been at work all day, Michael."
"Oh, come on Liz," Maria laughed, standing up and pulling Liz with her to her flat next door, with Michael leading the way.
"Well," Liz smiled, hunching her shoulders at Alex as she passed him.
Maria's flat was different to Liz's in that it contained the little personal touches that made a room home. Like painted walls, carpets on the floor, and ornaments on tables and wall units.
"I'll help you get yours up together," Maria winked, noticing Liz looking around the room.
"Oh, no, really," Liz smiled. "I don't plan on being here long."
"I said that," Maria frowned. "Four years ago when I finished college. Look at me. I'm still here, trying make it big on Broadway."
"Are you an actress?" Liz asked.
"Please!" Maria looked offended. "I'm a singer and dancer."
"My mistake," laughed Liz.
"So what is it you do, Michael?" Liz asked as they were eating their meal. She glanced over at Alex, who was sitting in front of Maria's television set watching a show where some young men where playing strange musical instruments and singing a song about crashing into each other. He was moving his body to the strange beat.
"Uhm, shall I turn the T.V. off so we can talk?" Maria quickly butted in.
Alex spun round and violently shook his head.
"No," Liz smiled. "This is okay, I like it."
"Hmm, well," Maria shrugged. "If you're sure."
"Well," Michael glared at Maria for her interruption. "I'm just a simple security guard at ML Evans." He looked ashamed.
"Why do you say it like that?" Liz asked. "I think it's a grand job."
"The trouble is," Maria moaned, "that until we can earn some real money, we can't afford to get married. And there's no chance of Michael finding more work, on account of his criminal record."
"Thanks Maria," Michael groaned with sarcasm, looking even more ashamed. "Tell her all my secrets."
"Well it serves you right, Michael. I mean, what were you thinking?"
"Look, he didn't tell me what was in it, okay? And do we have to go through this every time? I said I was sorry. And I really am."
While they were having their heated discussion, Liz looked to Alex, who, sensing Liz wanted him, turned away from the television set. Her eyes asked him if he knew what they were talking about. With a regretful glance over his shoulder, he walked over to the table.
"Uh, let's see..." he looked distant. "Michael Guerin, twenty four. Uhh, oh yes. Oh my. It seems that when he was at college, he was caught in possession of a large amount of marijuana, an illegal drug. Uh, he went to jail for a few months, and was kicked out of college."
"Oh," Liz looked mournful. "I can see why Maria is cross with him."
"No, no, Liz," Alex shook his head. "He was innocent. Someone he thought was a friend asked him to look after a package. It seems this 'friend' knew about the raid and passed on the incriminating evidence. Michael here was framed."
"Oh, how awful," she whispered. "Poor Michael."
"Yeah, and he would have been on the scrap heap but for a man named Philip Evans. He was in charge of ML Evans back then, and gave Michael a break. He hired him as a security guard, initially. He had promised that he would help him move into the field he wanted to work in, but unfortunately, Mr. Evans died before he could do anything about it. Maria wants to give up her dream of making it on Broadway, so she can find a paying job, and earn the money so they can marry, but Michael said that one broken dream between them was enough."
"Oh, that's sweet," Liz wiped away a tear. "But what about Michael? What will become of him?"
"I don't think that he is your concern Liz. I mean, I suspect that he will always be just a security guard, but they have each other. They are happy. Sort of. Just concentrate on what you have to do Liz."
The argument drew to a close, and Liz turned her attention back to her hosts.
"Sorry about that," Maria gave her an awkward grin. "You'll get used to it. We always fight. It's part of our charm."
"Oh, that's okay," she gave a gentle smile.
"So, Liz?" Michael asked, keen to turn the attention away from himself. "What about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Oh," she grinned with excitement. "I find out tomorrow."
"I don;t understand," Michael looked puzzled.
"I only just arrived here today. I have to go to this agency tomorrow, to see about a job."
On the whole, the rest of dinner didn't go too badly. Liz only managed to break one plate and two glasses and only hurt Michael once. After dinner, Maria was quite insistent that Liz need not help with the washing of the dishes.
***
Max Evans carefully checked that the locks of all the windows and doors were securely fastened, before he finally went up to his bedroom. The old brownstone house on Park Lane was way to big for him, but he refused to move. It had been hios home for too many years. No matter how many old ghosts remained in this house, it held too many happy memories to just abandon it. Max Evans needed all the reminders that he was once happy that he could get. His few remaining friends had suggested that he might rent it out, and move into a modern apartment in one of the new complexes that had recently been built, but Max always refused. After his shower, he climbed naked into his bed, and folded his arms behind his head. It had been an eventful day, one in which he had almost taken the life of that strange young woman. He had never felt so relieved that she was unhurt, and he felt bad that he had been so rude to her, once he had know that she was okay. And her eyes! Why did he still see her eyes, even though he had glanced at them only once? Max Evans groaned, twisted over, punched his pillow, and pulled the blankets over his head.
***

The Christmas Angel
Disclaimer : I, in no way, am associated with the actors, writers, producers, etc. of 'Roswell'. The rights to the show are not mine. Would I treat 'Roswell' the way TPTB did?
Category : M&L
Rating : ADULT (eventually)
Summary : This is in response to a challenge as laid down by 'Faith Evans' at roswellfanfic.com a few Christmases ago. What's Christmas without repeats?
Angels by Robbie Williams
I sit and wait,
Does an Angel contemplate my fate
And do they know,
The placed where we go,
When we're gray and old,
'cos I've been told,
That salvation lets their wings unfold
So when I'm lying in my bed,
Thoughts running through my head,
And I feel that love is dead,
I'm loving angels instead,
And through it all she offers me protection,
A lot of love and affection,
Whether I'm right or wrong,
And down the waterfall,
Wherever it may take me,
I know that life won't break me,
When I come to call she won't forsake me,
I'm loving angels instead
When I'm feeling weak,
And my pain walks down a one way street,
I look above,
And I know I'll always be blessed with love,
And as the feeling grows,
She breathes flesh to my bones,
And love is dead,
I'm loving angels instead,
And through it all she offers me protection,
A lot of love and affection,
Whether I'm right or wrong,
And down the waterfall,
Wherever it may take me,
I know that life won't break me,
When I come to call she won't forsake me,
I'm loving angels instead
***
Part 1 - "Ghosts"
Elsepeth hurried through the billowing clouds of mist that lay along the heavenly paths towards the Great Meeting Chamber, where, as an angel in training, she would receive her final task. The successful completion of this task would result in the ringing of the great bell, and Elsepeth would join the ranks of Guardian Angels. More than anything, this diminutive young girl with the lustrous flowing locks of dark hair wanted to gain her Angel Wings, and go on to become known as one of the greatest Guiardian Angels of all time. But young Elsepeth had a problem. For all her enthusiasm and hard work, she was what is euphamistically known as... a 'klutz'. This would not be Elsepeth's first attempt at passing her final test. Unfortuneately for her, she had tried before... and had failed... miserably. Twice.
Elsepeth first attempt had been the simple task of delivering a little rain to the parched lands surrounding a small farm in Western Australia, struck by a terrible drought. A prayer had been received from the occupants of the farm, begging for water to help not the owners, but the animals that were dying of thirst. Elsepeth's teacher and mentor, Alex, had agreed that it was a simple task that the girl was more than capable of and so this duty had been entrusted to her. But upon arrival in the proverbial dust bowl, Elsepeth felt sorry for the people of the blighted region and decided that she wanted to do more for this unselfish family. She used her blessings to open the rain valves more than she was authorized to open them. Overthinking her task, she had decided that the answer, and her real test, was to fill the reservoirs with water and to ensure that the ground received a thorough soaking so that it would be moist enough to support the growing of crops through the coming year. Everyone would be happy, and God would receive his due thanks and praise. The light rain became a torrential downpour. The hard, sunbaked ground could not soak up the deluge, and unable to close the valve, she flooded the region, turning the once fertile land into a barren waste as the flood tore the topsoil away. She thereby forced the inhabitants to give up farming altogether and move away to the city, where they had turned away from their god. She had failed.
As well as her good heart, Elsepeth had a steely determination. Nothing was more important to her than becoming a Guardian Angel, so she had put herself through the training process a second time. She worked doubly hard to ensure that she would be granted her second chance, throwing her heart and soul into her lessons. For the final task of her second year, Elsepeth had been given an opportunity to use her abilities to prevent a charming old homeless woman from using a derelict building as her shelter for the night. The building was unsafe and she would surely die if she slept there. But while watching over her subject, Elsepeth had overheard the old woman telling a passerby that she used to live in that house, way back when she was married and happy, and was taking a last look before her old home was demolished. Elsepeth decided that she would grant this old woman's wish and had used her blessing to protect her as she entered the dangerous building and walked from room to room, remeniscing. But the ladies presence had attracted a small cat. And its owner, a young child who could not read the danger signs that the house was condemned, had followed that cat into the old building.
The cat had managed to get itself stuck under the rotting floorboards, which caused the girl to burst into tears. Feeling sorry for her, Elsepeth decided to free the young girl's pet. As Elsepeth used her abilities to lift the floorboards so that the cat could jump free, she accidentally lifted one whole side of the house, causing an internal wall to fall down. This in turn tore the floor apat, collapsing into the basement. Elsepeth herself had fallen through a hole, and was half buried by falling debris. Because of where she came from, she was unhurt, and she managed to provide a soft landing for the old woman, who had been surprised to have landed on something other than wood and concrete. The whole ordeal had surprisd Elsepeth and she was unfortuneate to disable her cloak of invisibility. The old woman saw her and demanded to know who Elsepeth was, and from where she had suddenly materialized. Far from freeing it, Elsepeth had scared the cat so much that it had bolted into a dark corner beneath the stone chimney breast that was about to topple over. The little girl was even heading towards the cat to try and rescue it herself. It would have been a disaster, especially as the noise had attracted a number of bystanders, had Alex not call the Angel Rescue Service. It had been the first time in over a century that they had been required. There were a few memories that had to be 'altered' that day, a task that was not often employed and only then in extreme circumstances with the permission of Gabriel himself. Elsepeth had become the first Angel in Training ever to have failed a second time.
Against the advice of Alex, and many other senior Angels who were displeased with the young trainee, Elsepeth enrolled on the Guardian Angel course for a third time. Nothing would prevent her in her desire to become a fully fledged Guardian Angel. But, in spite of her clumsy ways, she was a popular trainee. She always had a smile on her face and her sunny, cheerful disposition was infectious. She never showed the signs of the setbacks she received, or if she did, she never let anyone see. Everyone knew of her burning desire to become an Angel, and so, feeling sorry for the young girl, the powers that be gave their permission for her to try again. Elsepeth worked harder and longer than her peers, all of whom she helped with their own studies, as and when she could. However, for them, it all seemed to come so easy, but Elsepeth, who had been through this twice before, seemed unable to grasp many of the simplest concepts. It seemed that overthinking often overcomplicated things for her. She reached the final test through hard work and dedication alone.
***
"Just close your eyes, count to ten, and go, Max," Max Evans told himself. The tall dark haired young man looked older than his twenty-four years. His features looked drawn and gaunt, while his eyes, which lacked emotion of any kind, were cold and lifeless. He stood by the busy intersection on Fifth Avenue and watched the heavy traffic rushing by. The air was filled with exhaust fumes and the constant beeping of the car horns. Max took a deep breath, and closed his eyes tightly.
"One, two, three," he counted as the traffic continued to roar past.
"Four, five, six," he continued as the honking sounds increased.
"Seven, eight, nine," the traffic sounded louder, heavier.
"Ten."
With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, Max Evans stepped out into the oncoming traffic. Contrary to what he expected, there was no squealing of brakes, no blaring horns and no abusive calls. Neither was there the painful impact that would finally take away his pain. Nothing happened. After he had taken half a dozen strides, Max opened one eye to see what was happening. The pedestrian crossing lights had turned green. Max had the right of way and so the traffic had stopped to allow the thick stream of pedestrians to cross.
"Looks like I won't be joining you today," he sighed, looking upwards.
He dug his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill December air. He continued walking through the large crowds of pedestrians along Fifth Avenue, towards Herald Square. With a rueful backward glance at the traffic that had now begun again, Max continued along the busy street.
"Ho, ho, ho," a large man clad in a red Santa Clause suit bellowed, while swinging a large hand bell up and down. To the sound of his constant bell ringing, he stood in front of a large pot behind which a sign advertised that any donations were going to the needy. People were dropping in loose change as they hurried past and were rewarded with the jolly looking old man calling "Merry Christmas!" to them.
Max walked past the man, looking across the road as though something important had caught his attention. The Santa Clause was not fooled. He had seen this very action performed too many times now, not just as Santa, but as a homeless man down on his luck. If the passer-by pretended that he didn't see you, he would not need to feel guilty for ignoring you.
"What?" he shouted at the young businessman. "You can't even spare a dime?"
He was surprised when the young man turned to face him.
"Excuse me?" Max asked, glaring in sudden anger. He startede walking toward him. "Listen, pal. I pay my taxes, okay? And those taxes help fund homes and refuges for the homeless of this city. And I donate large sums of money to local charities. I give more than my fair share."
"Ooooo," the man raised his hands in mock genuflection. "Well good for you. All taxes and tax deductible, eh? That's real big of you. But what about on your personal level? How much of your own money do 'you' give? Who are you anyway? Ebenezer Scrooge Jr.?"
"I ought to get the cops to take to in, harassing people like this."
"And you don't harass people? I bet every big deal you make is made by harassing people. Well, I'll tell you what, Mr. Scrooge. I won't mind betting that like your namesake, you get visited by a ghost of your own. Perhaps you might get lucky and see the real meaning of Christmas. Maybe you will even get a life!"
"A Christmas Ghost," sneered Max as he turned away from the old man. "Don't make me laugh, old man. What difference would one more make?"
If there was any particular time of year that Max had to admit to not liking, it would now. Max Evans hated Christmas.
Quickly putting the demented old man out of his mind, Max continued up the street. He was in Herald Square now, with the famous stores that attracted so many shoppers, and tourists to their city. He glanced enviously at Macy's. Even in daylight, the Christmas decorations, both the ones installed by the city, and the ones put up in the store windows and doorways were very impressive. Many of the pedestrians were walking along, looking this way and that, making gentle 'oooh-ing' and 'aaah-ing' sounds at what they saw. There had even been a few fender-benders in the traffic as drivers had their eyes on the decorations rather than the traffic lights. But Max Evans scarcely noticed. It was not the decorations he felt envy for, but the fact that theirs was a household name, while his was not. He lowered his lifeless eyes back to the sidewalk, swerving to avoid the people in his way, while he cursed the imbeciles who stopped suddenly in front of him, to take a closer look at the cursed decorations.
"I hate Christmas," he spat at no one in perticular.
At last, he reached his destination.
"The car, tomorrow, I think," he said to no one in particular. "Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll crash."
Finally, he walked up the broad steps in front of a grand old building, and walked to the front door of 'ML Evans', one of New York's finest shopping experiences.
"Good morning, Mr. Evans," the uniformed doorman saluted before opening the door to Max.
"Morning," Max grunted as he walked through the door, hardly even noticing the man, let alone thanking him. He walked into the large interior of ML Evans, but hardly noticed a thing. ML Evans was a store on a similar scale to Macy's, perhaps larger, grander, but not quite as famous.
"Good morning, Mr. Evans," the sales clerks all curtsied, or bowed as he walked through to the executive elevators at the back of the store. Max would have preferred to use the staff entrance at the back of the building, but his great grandfather had started the tradition of entering through the front entrance just after he had moved the store to it's current location back in the thirties. Max continued walking through the store, with his eyes fixed firmly on the tiled floor. As always, he ignored each and every one of the employees. He finally reached the elevator, and was soon safely inside, heading to the penthouse offices where he would spend another day wrapped up in the business affairs of his company. Max Evans was the current owner of ML Evans, the role he had inherited on his twenty-first birthday. He often felt stifled by the decades of tradition, and longed to break free of them, but the memory of his parents prevented him.
"Good Morning, Mr. Evans," the young woman met him as he emerged from the elevator. Max knew that the doorman would have called ahead to warn the staff that he was on his way up. As she did every morning, his secretary was waiting for him with his desk diary. She would brief him on his day's events as he walked through to his office.
"Good morning, Miss Sanchez," he replied; though he did not look at her. Max had learned long ago that it didn't pay to ignore his secretary. It didn't make her go away. She woyld wait patiently all day if she had to, until she discharged her duties. It was easier to work with her and she was, after all, very efficient. His father had struck gold the day he had hired her.
"Mr. Evans?" There was a hint of trepidation in her voice. "The girls have asked if they can decorate the offices. You know, make it look festive."
Max looked at her and then at the office, noticing how everyone watched expectantly.
"Only in their time, and only if it stays out of my way. And I will fire the first one who tries to put anything in my office, or on my door. Now, what do I have on for today?"
"Yes Mr. Evans. I'll tell them. We'll keep it simple and discreet. Like last year. And the year before that." She started looking at the open page in the diary. "You have that tour with the Swedish delegation this morning, and this afternoon, you have the meeting for departmental heads. And we need to let The Grand Hotel know the numbers for the staff dinner dance on Christmas Eve. Will you be bringing a date, sir?"
"Firstly," Max sighed. "I am not a sir. Sirs are people from England who get hit on the head with a sword. Secondly, you know very well that I don't attend those things. So no. I will not be bringing a date."
"Just checking sir... ah, Mr. Evans."
"Do I have much on for tomorrow?"
"Let's see," Miss Sanchez flipped to the next page of the desk diary. "No, only your lunch with the Chairman of the Bank. Oh, you will be giving the Mayor's wife the full VIP tour in the morning. And in the afternoon, you have to visit the induction room to greet the new employees. Oh, and we open Santa's Grotto tomorrow, too. Perhaps you would like to..."
"No," Max flatly refused. "Get Valenti to do it. He is the General Manager after all."
"Yes, Mr. Evans, of course," Miss Sanchez paused. "It's just that your father liked to..."
"No!" Max shook his head. "Why must I do everything that reminds me of them, and... that night?"
***
The Great Meeting Chamber was not really a chamber at all, but a large cloud that floated high above the others, giving a terrific view of all the heavens. From the chairs of the great table, carved from pure white marble, one could see Valhalla, Elysium, and even the Happy Hunting Grounds. Any Heaven that was ever believed to exist by mortal man, far below, existed here, and was visible from the Chamber. Every faith, every belief and every mythology was represented in Heaven, and each faith had their own brand of Angels, that were tested in their own ways, at their own times.
As it was approaching the time that the mortals below called Christmas, the senior Angels that represented the Christian world were meeting to allocate the final tasks of their Trainee Angels. One by one, the trainees were named, and the tasks allocated and crossed of the great list of prayers received. Alex was the only nervous teacher there. His nervousness was not so much for his students but because he was quick at mental math. Alex knew that that there were one hundred students currently waiting for their final task, but he could only count ninety-nine prayers on the great list. He had this dreadful feeling that Elsepeth would not be allowed her chance to gain her wings after all. No one else seemed to have noticed the mismatch.
At last, the final task had been allocated. The ChairAngel, Francis, nodded with satisfaction as the last task had been removed from the list. When he glanced down at the list, his face fell.
"Oh my," Francis exclaimed. "We have another name on the list, but we have no task to allocate."
"What?" demanded Richard, a senior Angel, as pandemonium broke out around him. "How can that be? Gabriel himself checks those lists. Surely he would have ensured that the numbers tallied?"
"Who is the last trainee?" asked Joan, their most experienced teacher.
"Elsepeth," Alex offered, not needing to see the list. "The last trainee is Elsepeth."
"He's right," Richard confirmed. "It's Elsepeth."
"Well, that explains it," Brigid offered. "Gabriel has decided that she isn't fit to be an angel."
"That most becoming of you, Brigid," Alex complained. "You know how hard the poor girl has been trying."
"I agree," Brigid smirked. "She's been very trying. Very trying indeed."
"Nevertheless, she has completed the course, and deserves her chance," Alex defended his unfortunate student. "You know how much this means to her. You know how badly she wants to be an Angel. She deserves to be allowed her chance."
"Perhaps we should put it to the vote," Joan mediated. "And if we agree she should have the chance, perhaps we might find some task ourselves."
""But what's the point? No matter how simple the task, she will find some way to fail. Face it, she is not Guardian Angel material."
"But she completed the course." Alex objected.
"I agree with Joan," Richard decided. "We will vote on it."
"That will not be necessary," a newcomer interrupted.
Every angel at the table rose, and bowed as Gabriel himself approached the meeting. "The reason that there was no prayer left on the list, was because we will not be using a prayer for Elsepeth's final task."
"But what shall she do?" objected Alex. "If not the answering of a prayer, what shall she do?"
"I shall send Elsepeth to Earth, as a mortal girl, to help someone find themselves."
"What?" Alex's objection was the loudest. Everyone was shocked. This was not the sort of task entrusted to a trainee.
"But that is usually granted to only the most experienced of Angels. This is an impossible task. Her power is not enough to help her with this sort of task."
"She will not be required to use her power to perform this, for that would be of little use in this case. But fear not, Alex, she will have you watching over her, for you shall accompany her. You will not be visible to the mortals. Though you may assist her in whatever way you see fit, you must not do anything for her task unless she requests it, and you know the limitations that you must work to. No raising the dead and no providing proof. You know. Standard religion stuff. She will have no need for her power, because she shall be tested on how she is able to use her greatest strength, for that will suit her much better for this test.
"And what is her greatest strength?" Alex asked, looking confused.
"Why, Alex?" Gabriel smiled. "You of all people should know that, having worked with the charming girl for three years. Elsepeth's greatest strength is not in her power, or her determination to succeed. It's not even her burning desire to pass the final task and hear that bell ring for her. She has worked so hard at becoming a Guardian Angel, that she has forgotten why. We could remind her, but she must discover this for herself. You see, Elsepeth's greatest strength is her enormous heart."
***
"That was very clever of Gabriel, wasn't it?" Joan asked Richard as the two of them walked back to the common room after the meeting had drawn to a close.
"In what way?" he asked."
"Well, surely you remember what happened last Christmas?"
Richard nodded with frown on his face. Elsepeth's enthusiasm for Christmas was almost as notorious as her clumsiness. And when the two of them mixed, it was a recipe for disaster. Seldom a Christmas Day went by that did not involve Elsepeth and a mountain of broken crockery, and a number of guests with food or drink, or both... spilled over them. To make matters worse, Elsepeth invariably attempted to make amends for her clumsiness, and always ended up inflicting more pain of some kind upon the unfortunate victim.
"I mean," Joan continued, "it's His two thousand and first birthday. You don't turn two thousand and one every day, you know. His Father wants to throw a big party, you know, and invite the other deities and demigods. Can you imagine the chaos Elsepeth would cause? I mean, what if she did something stupid, like trip over Thor's hammer? Or drop one of Zeus' thunderbolts?"
"So you think Gabriel gave her this task to get rid of her? That makes sense, I guess."
"To get rid of her, yes, and to punish her too. I'm told He was really furious that the Angel Rescue Service had to be called. Rumor has it He lost his temper over the memory thing. Apparently, she's not to return until she has succeeded. That's the last we will have seen of her for a while."
"Is her task really that difficult?"
"Didn't you hear? Oh yes, it's difficult, all right. It's impossible. The one she is being set to has relatives up here. His mother has already requested that someone save him. At the time, our best Salvation Angel was put on the job, because these were pretty special people. The angel didn't even come close. He's as hopelessly lost as you can be. It's a shame Alex was made to go with her, though. I was hoping to hear him and his friends play their harps again."
***
In a narrow alley beside a large underground car-parking complex, a doorway appeared out of nothing. The doorway opened, allowing a bright white light to illuminate the alley that had not seen the light of the sun in a number of decades. If anyone had been there to witness this doorway, they would have seen a young strangely dressed girl step through. Because of her clothing, it would have been difficult to put an age to her, but she appeared to be twenty-one. She wore a long, plain colored, woolen dress under a pale brown raincoat, and carried a long, pale green umbrella in one hand and a large, battered suitcase full of similar dresses in the other. Her dark hair was pinned up in a bun. She looked more like an extra from an English Victorian drama than a New York City girl. What the onlooker would not have seen was the young ageless looking man who stepped out beside her.
"Gabriel choose your wardrobe?" Alex asked looking Elsepeth up and down with disapproval. Alex was wearing baggy blue jeans and a bright green bomber jacket open to his waist. His black t-shirt had the legend 'Foo Fighters' printed across his chest. He wore a blue baseball cap with 'NY' stitched to it, with with its peak pointing backwards.
"Yes," she beamed. "He was ever so helpful. He even arranged somewhere for us to live."
"Uh-huh," Alex smirked.
Alex led Elsepeth along the alleyway, towards the road.
"Now be careful, Elsepeth," Alex warned her. "Life down here is not like it is up there. For a start, not everyone is as nice. The place is full of people who do not believe, and they tend to lock people who claim to be angels in a special hospital, so it might be best not to mention this to anyone."
"Okay," Elsepeth smiled. "What else?"
"Well, I know that you are pretty much immortal down here, and they have nothing that can actually harm you, but you mustn't draw attention to yourself. You have to watch out for the traffic."
"What's traffic?" Elsepeth asked, as she stepped out of the shadows of the alley and into a shaft of sunlight that had found its way through the towering buildings. "Ooops." Momentarily blinded by the bright winter sunshine, she tripped over a torn cardboard box, and stumbled out into the street. There was a sudden squeal of locked tyres, the blaring of a high pitched horn, and low, sleek, black automobile slammed into Elsepeth, throwing her back into the alley and into a pile of cardboard boxes."
"Elsepeth, meet traffic," Alex commented dryly.
The driver of the black car, a tall dark haired young man, leapt from the vehicle and rushed to Elsepeth's side. His face was white, filled with a sick dread.
"Oh, god!" he cried with fear in his voice, "Lady, are you all right. Oh please be all right." He was at her side in an instant, pulling the tangled cardboard from her.
"Yeah," she smiled gently. "Yeah, I'm okay. No harm done."
Max stepped back from the young girl who started to rise, and emitted a silent sigh of relief.
"You stupid woman!" he barked, all traces of concern vanishing instantly. "You idiot! Why don't you watch where you going? You could have been killed!"
"Well, maybe you should take more care with your traffic," she replied. "I mean, maybe drive it more slowly."
"Yeah, twist it back on me. I suppose next you'll claim you actually are hurt to try and sue me or something. Well, it will be a long fight, 'casue I have some mighty fine lawyers."
"Believe me," she sneered, something that was definitely uncharacteristic. "I want nothing from you!"
She picked up her suitcase and her umbrella, and walked out of the alleyway. She didn't see the dark haired young man climb back into his car and look into the mirror. She would not have seen how the color was still drained from his face, or how his hands shook violently as he reached for his ignition key. She would not have known that rather than start his engine, the young man had collapsed into a shaking fit of hysterical crying.
***
"Isn't this exciting, Alex?" Elsepeth beamed as she stared out of the subway train's windows at the New York City buildings that glided by. The rest of the passengers, lost in their newspapers, ignored yet another strangely clothed 'loony' who talked to herself in their midst, especially one who kept tripping up other passengers with the umbrella of hers. Three people had already received bruised shins from her suitcase when she boarded the train. "And we still have two weeks till Christmas. Maybe when the job's done, they'll let me stay and watch all the celebrations for His birthday."
"Um, you might want to wait till we're alone before you talk to me, Elsepeth," Alex laughed. "They can't see me, remember?"
"So?"
"So, I think your fellow commuters might think that you are a few stanzas short of a hymn."
"Oh, right," she sparkled. "I see." Elsepeth mimed a zipping action across her lips.
Alex shook his head with a laugh. "You seem to have recovered from your altercation back there," he pointed out.
"With Mr. Arrogance?" she laughed. "Well, I wasn't hurt, after all. I think he came off the worse. But I am sorry I lost my temper a bit. He was just so mean. You were right about people not being nice. Anyway, I have an important job to do, and I won't let petty people like him side-track me."
"Come on," he chuckled as the train drew to a stop. "Washington Heights, this is our stop."
The neighborhood was not what they had expected. The roads, at least the parts not hidden by abandoned cars, were filthy. The buildings were old and in much need of repair. Dotted along the side of the roads were garbage cans with fires burning in them. Men of all origins with nothing better to do stood around the fires, sometimes adding another stick of wood, trying to remain warm in the biting December wind.
"A slum!" Alex accused. "Gabriel has sent us to a slum."
"He said this was a nice district," Elsepeth defended the absent Angel.
"Gabriel needs to get out more," Alex observed dryly. "This was probably a nice neighborhood at the same time that your clothes were in fashion."
"Yeah," Elsepeth observed after looking at some of the clothes that the other women were wearing. "I guess they do seem a little..."
"Antique?"
"Yeah."
"Elsepeth, as soon as you have some money, you are going to change your wardrobe. Now, where are you staying?"
"Oh, here we are, look," Liz pointed up the grimy staircase. "Flat 7C"
"Top floor, huh?" Alex observed looking up the tall tenement building. "I hope the air's cleaner up there.
"Hey, my man, looky, looky," a young man in outlandish clothing drawled as he emerged from the building with two friends. They had the smell of alcohol about them "Hey baby, was happening?"
"Oh, hi," Elsepeth smiled. "I'm just moving in."
The three men moved closer.
"Hey, we can have ourselves a house warming party. I bet you like to par-tay."
"Uhm, no," she smiled. She seemed to have no fear for the situation in which she found herself. "Sorry. I'm not really sure what a par-tay is."
"Well, you can learn," one of them leered.
"Well, I'm afraid I don't have time. I have this important job to do, see, and when I have done it, I'll be going..."
"Now don't go gettin all unfriendly on us," another placed his hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we just take you upstairs and we can show you how we can be real neighborly."
Elsepeth turned to face the man who placed his hand on her shoulder. Her umbrella caught the other man's foot, tripping him over on the icy pavement where he fell down the staircase to the basement entrance, crying out in pain as he bounced.
"Oh, I am so sorry," she exclaimed, turning to see how badly the man had hurt himself. Her umbrella whipped around and stabbed into the first mans groin, causing him to collapse with a scream of agony. The third man ran away, very quickly.
"Leave them, Elsepeth," Alex ordered, as Elsepeth was about to tend to the hurt men. "Just get up into your room."
Safely locked behind the door to her flat, only after Alex had magically locked it, the two of them looked at the disgusting condition their new home was in. The walls were damp, and the floorboards were bare and filled with holes. Old paint was peeling in large strips from the damp walls. There was absolutely no furniture, just upturned crates. It would be impossible to live here.
"It's a little bit..." Elsepeth started.
"I'll find you a new room," Alex said through teeth clenched in anger. "In a better place. You stay here and wait for me."
***
The room that Alex had found for her was in an Area called East Village, on Avenue D.
"It's a much better area then the last one," Alex informed her. "Though it's still an area of some poverty. I believe that you will be safe here, at least."
"Thank you, Alex," Elsepeth smiled, closing the door behind her.
"I wasn't able to do anything about your clothes, though," he continued. "There's a blond living right next door to you. Perhaps, one you've made friends with her, you could go clothes shopping with her."
"I'd like that, Alex," Elsepeth smiled. "Making friends and shopping."
"One other thing, Elsepeth," Alex said in a slow cautious manner. "Your name. It's a little like your clothing, kind of old fashioned. Maybe you should think of something different. You know, to use down here."
"I like my name, Alex," Elsepeth pouted. "Gabriel gave it to me when I arrived in Heaven. I don't want to change it. Why should I?"
"Well, I just think that you should," Alex insisted. "You need to make a good impression, and until you get new clothes, it's going to be hard enough as it is. Old clothes, we can explain."
"I'll think about it."
"Okay, so who is the target. Who's soul do we have to save?"
"I don't know," Elsepeth answered. "Gabriel said that I would know him when I bump into him."
"Elsepeth," Alex sighed. "No offence, but you have already bumped into half of New York. It could be anybody."
***
There was an insistent knocking at the door. After a look of confusion at Alex, Elsepeth went to the door, and opened it. The blonde whirlwind did not wait to be invited in. She swept past an amazed Elsepeth.
"Hi," she announced the instant the door was open. "My name's Maria. Maria DeLuca. I live right next door to you, and saw you moving in earlier, but I thought I'd give you a chance to, you know, like settle in before I introduced myself. People... well, not just any people, my dumb ass of a boyfriend really, he says I have a habit of coming on too strong. He says that I don't give people a chance to get to know me before I give them the chance to decide if they really want to be my friend. He says that I'm like, this bull in a china shop. But I say what the hell? I mean, one of us could be struck dead by lightening tomorrow and we would never have been friends, you know? So go for it, I always say. So now your settled... is this all your stuff? I thought I would come and say hi. Hi."
Elsepeth started to laugh, not at this crazy girl, Maria, but at Alex who was walking behind the chattering girl using his hand as a puppet, making chattering motions.
"Too strong?" Maria asked, looking at Elsepeth, clearly upset that she was laughing.
"No, no," Elsepeth smiled warmly. "Don't mind me. I'm, ah... not used to people being so..."
"Talkative?"
"Uhm, no. Sorry."
"No," Maria frowned. She collapsed into one of the two armchairs. She looked miserable. "It's me who should be sorry. Michael's right about me."
"Michael?
"Michael, my boyfriend. He says that when I first meet people, I come on too strong, that I talk too much."
"Well..."
"Look, I'm sorry, I don't even know your name."
"Elsepeth," she answered, glaring at Alex who started to pout.
"Elizabeth?" Maria checked. "Cool name. So, Liz? Your clothes. Do you dress like that for a reason? You and me, we so have to hit the mall."
"Oh, yeah," Liz looked down at her clothing, and sat in the other armchair. "That's going to have to wait. I don't start work till tomorrow, so I won't have any money for a while."
"Tell you what. It's Thursday tomorrow, right? With the rush towards Christmas, it will be late night shopping. How about we go to the mall after work, and use my plastic. You can pay me back when your checks start rolling in."
"Maria, you don't know me from Adam. Why would you do this for me?"
"It's what friends are for."
"But we only just met?"
"And were friends, aren't we? There's something about you. I trust you, Liz. I feel like I have known you, like forever. I know you won't cheat me. Maybe we can get you a few home comforts for in here, too."
There was another knock on the door.
"Maria, are you in there?" a young man's voice called out.
"Michael? Is that you?" Maria called. She turned to Liz. "My boyfriend, do you mind?"
Liz shook her head.
"Come on in, Michael," Maria called again. "Come on in and meet our new neighbor and my new friend.
The young man who entered was tall, with his short, light brown hair, combed upwards in a spiky hair style. He looked a little frightening until he stood next to Maria. He only gave a cursory look at Liz.
"How come you're so late?"
"The 'Grinch' had us working late. He says that productivity has dropped and that just because it's Christmas is no reason to shirk our responsibilities. It won't surprise me to hear that he's cancelled the Dinner Dance on Christmas Eve. He threatens it every year, just cause he can't decide which of his hundreds of bimbos he should take as his date."
"No, he would never do that," Maria shook her head. "His father started that tradition. I know he's a lot of things, but he worshipped the ground his parents walked on. He won't cancel that because it's like a memorial to his dad. Besides, I already have my dress, and let me tell you, it's a killer."
"What's this?" Liz asked.
"Oh,my bad. Where are my manners?" demanded Maria. "Liz, this is Michael. Michael Guerin. He's my boyfriend. Sorta."
"What do you mean, sorta?" he demanded with a smile.
"And Michael, this is Liz. She just moved in today."
"I never even knew the room was empty. Hi Liz, pleased to meet you."
Liz rose to meet Michael who was approaching her. They shook hands.
"I'd offer you some refreshments, but I haven't had a chance to..."
"Oh, well, hey, Liz," Maria started to bounce in her chair. "Why don't you come next door with us? You can have dinner with Michael and I. You don't mind, do you, Michael?"
"No, not at all," Michael confirmed with a pained smile.
"No," Liz shook her head. "I couldn't. Besides, you two wanted to be alone. You've been at work all day, Michael."
"Oh, come on Liz," Maria laughed, standing up and pulling Liz with her to her flat next door, with Michael leading the way.
"Well," Liz smiled, hunching her shoulders at Alex as she passed him.
Maria's flat was different to Liz's in that it contained the little personal touches that made a room home. Like painted walls, carpets on the floor, and ornaments on tables and wall units.
"I'll help you get yours up together," Maria winked, noticing Liz looking around the room.
"Oh, no, really," Liz smiled. "I don't plan on being here long."
"I said that," Maria frowned. "Four years ago when I finished college. Look at me. I'm still here, trying make it big on Broadway."
"Are you an actress?" Liz asked.
"Please!" Maria looked offended. "I'm a singer and dancer."
"My mistake," laughed Liz.
"So what is it you do, Michael?" Liz asked as they were eating their meal. She glanced over at Alex, who was sitting in front of Maria's television set watching a show where some young men where playing strange musical instruments and singing a song about crashing into each other. He was moving his body to the strange beat.
"Uhm, shall I turn the T.V. off so we can talk?" Maria quickly butted in.
Alex spun round and violently shook his head.
"No," Liz smiled. "This is okay, I like it."
"Hmm, well," Maria shrugged. "If you're sure."
"Well," Michael glared at Maria for her interruption. "I'm just a simple security guard at ML Evans." He looked ashamed.
"Why do you say it like that?" Liz asked. "I think it's a grand job."
"The trouble is," Maria moaned, "that until we can earn some real money, we can't afford to get married. And there's no chance of Michael finding more work, on account of his criminal record."
"Thanks Maria," Michael groaned with sarcasm, looking even more ashamed. "Tell her all my secrets."
"Well it serves you right, Michael. I mean, what were you thinking?"
"Look, he didn't tell me what was in it, okay? And do we have to go through this every time? I said I was sorry. And I really am."
While they were having their heated discussion, Liz looked to Alex, who, sensing Liz wanted him, turned away from the television set. Her eyes asked him if he knew what they were talking about. With a regretful glance over his shoulder, he walked over to the table.
"Uh, let's see..." he looked distant. "Michael Guerin, twenty four. Uhh, oh yes. Oh my. It seems that when he was at college, he was caught in possession of a large amount of marijuana, an illegal drug. Uh, he went to jail for a few months, and was kicked out of college."
"Oh," Liz looked mournful. "I can see why Maria is cross with him."
"No, no, Liz," Alex shook his head. "He was innocent. Someone he thought was a friend asked him to look after a package. It seems this 'friend' knew about the raid and passed on the incriminating evidence. Michael here was framed."
"Oh, how awful," she whispered. "Poor Michael."
"Yeah, and he would have been on the scrap heap but for a man named Philip Evans. He was in charge of ML Evans back then, and gave Michael a break. He hired him as a security guard, initially. He had promised that he would help him move into the field he wanted to work in, but unfortunately, Mr. Evans died before he could do anything about it. Maria wants to give up her dream of making it on Broadway, so she can find a paying job, and earn the money so they can marry, but Michael said that one broken dream between them was enough."
"Oh, that's sweet," Liz wiped away a tear. "But what about Michael? What will become of him?"
"I don't think that he is your concern Liz. I mean, I suspect that he will always be just a security guard, but they have each other. They are happy. Sort of. Just concentrate on what you have to do Liz."
The argument drew to a close, and Liz turned her attention back to her hosts.
"Sorry about that," Maria gave her an awkward grin. "You'll get used to it. We always fight. It's part of our charm."
"Oh, that's okay," she gave a gentle smile.
"So, Liz?" Michael asked, keen to turn the attention away from himself. "What about you? What do you do for a living?"
"Oh," she grinned with excitement. "I find out tomorrow."
"I don;t understand," Michael looked puzzled.
"I only just arrived here today. I have to go to this agency tomorrow, to see about a job."
On the whole, the rest of dinner didn't go too badly. Liz only managed to break one plate and two glasses and only hurt Michael once. After dinner, Maria was quite insistent that Liz need not help with the washing of the dishes.
***
Max Evans carefully checked that the locks of all the windows and doors were securely fastened, before he finally went up to his bedroom. The old brownstone house on Park Lane was way to big for him, but he refused to move. It had been hios home for too many years. No matter how many old ghosts remained in this house, it held too many happy memories to just abandon it. Max Evans needed all the reminders that he was once happy that he could get. His few remaining friends had suggested that he might rent it out, and move into a modern apartment in one of the new complexes that had recently been built, but Max always refused. After his shower, he climbed naked into his bed, and folded his arms behind his head. It had been an eventful day, one in which he had almost taken the life of that strange young woman. He had never felt so relieved that she was unhurt, and he felt bad that he had been so rude to her, once he had know that she was okay. And her eyes! Why did he still see her eyes, even though he had glanced at them only once? Max Evans groaned, twisted over, punched his pillow, and pulled the blankets over his head.
***