Here is a new story. I own nothing, but the plot. This is meant for WFOL and is a s3 narrative. I hope the readers who have come enjoy it.

Angels of Ice

Moonlight glowed gently across Central Park. Its warm glow reflected against the open snow-

covered lawns. White crystals seemed to dangle from the once barren trees. Beneath the fumes of the city, a sense of freshness hung in the air. The tall skyscrapers twinkled like stars in the distance. On a night like this, the city famous for its active nightlife slept. Many more were caught in the merriment and fun with friends and loved ones. Stories of Santa Claus and slumbering children, including his three-year-old son, Jacob, kept the magic of innocence in the air.

And the park was nearly empty.

He pulled a scrap of paper from within the dark cloak he had donned and held it in his hands. A small haiku filled the sheet; its words a written map to his destination

Vincent

Catch a reflection

To see oneself leap and fly

In a starlit sky

Diana

What was the young detective doing now? Over the past three years, he had found that Diana enjoyed offering him cryptic messages or showing some case evidence from work to see how he would deduce them. She would often compare such looks as when one had to peer between the lines of a poem or piece of fiction to find the truth or the author's intentions. He was not certain the analogy worked quite that well, but in the same breath he found he enjoyed the mysteries she presented to him. There was a great satisfaction one got when the final clue fell into place, completing the larger picture which at first had just been a blur of images or facts.

Where are you having me go this time, Diana? Vincent looked down at the poem again. What type of reflected surface could catch the skylight? Such feats as the poem conjured, he had only imagined for his beloved Catherine. They had only danced once at Winterfest, but she was now forever in the stars watching over him and Jacob.

He strolled forward, pondering the message with each turn he took.

A thud sounded in the stillness.

His ears perked at the sudden disturbance as he turned to the right. His keen eyesight caught a glimpse of red lying upon the snow. Fear overtook the caution he held most of the time Above as he rushed forward. Diana lay on her side, half buried. Her porcelain skin seemed to merge with the white blanket covering her, the red mane of hair the color of blood, perhaps hiding some further injury he could not detected yet.

Vincent growled lightly and moved Carefully, he picked her up, cradling her in his arms. "Diana, are you all right?"

His heart slowed as he felt the breath of life against his chest. Only a moment later, she sat up and began to dust herself off.

"That could have gone better," Diana muttered to herself.

"Diana…?"

"Oh." Her shoulders tensed, the only sign she had been startled by his presence. "You're here early."

"If you say so. Are you certain you're well?" Vincent asked.

Diana nodded. "Yes, it takes more than a fall to stop me."

"What were you doing out here?"

He helped her to stand as she explained. "I was…practicing. It seems I'm a little rustier than I thought."

Vincent paused, studying her. He saw no scars or bruises upon her. The snow must have blanketed her fall. Carefully, his gaze took in her full appearance. An old green jacket buttoned up to the collarbone. Gray pants complemented the jacket and her more athletic, slim build. But her normal sneakers had been replaced with…

"Skates?" Vincent inquired.

Diana bit her lip briefly, but then nodded. "Yes, it's your Christmas surprise."

Vincent opened his mouth when she touched his arm and pointed off to the right. He followed her arm and gasped lightly at what his keen eyes had missed. The snow bank Diana had fallen into bordered a vast ring of ice, its silver surface a mirror to catch the starlight as the poem had suggested. While Below got cold, he had only known the sleek form of icicles along the rock walls. A frozen lake had been a fantasy to his young mind and the openness of the area had kept him away even as an adult.

Vincent drew his cloak around him and turned back to her. "What are you doing?"

"I wanted to go skating and wanted a partner. It's an ice rink."

Vincent smiled softly. "Oh, is that what this is?"

"Hm…" Diana pretended to be somber, but he caught the playful tone in her voice. "Yes, I guess Shakespeare never wrote anything about ice skating. That would've been a feat to have in the Globe."

Vincent's smile grew as he tried to imagine such a thing. "And how did you accomplish such a feat as to have this place at such an hour?" Like the old carousel, he imagined the ice rink had a time limit for its use.

"I called in a favor," Diana said casually. "Two years ago, I saved the little girl of the man who works here. It's ours for an hour or an hour and fifteen, since you're early. Did the poem make sense?"

"It did though I admit I hadn't taken you for a poet."

Diana shrugged. "I'm not really, but you like it. And it was better than my attempt at anything Shakespeare."

Vincent nodded. "It is good to have variety in what one reads."

"Or in one's activities." Diana took a few steps back out onto the ice. Her arms wind-milled only a few seconds before she got her balance. She glanced over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

"Diana, this…is a wonderful thought. But…" His blue eyes swept over the thin surface of the ring. "But…I fear it will not be safe if I accompany you. The ice will not hold under my weight."

"How do you know?" She skated in a circle and then placed her hands on her hips facing him. "Have you ever tried it?"

"No, I admit it was not a tradition for me in childhood."

"Well then, come and try it." The young detective spun again and glided out toward the center.

"Diana, this isn't fair; what if something should-"

"Are you scared, Vincent?" Diana called.

Vincent frowned. "You've been talking to Devin, I see."

Diana shrugged. "Maybe. Think of it this way: if you do it, you can have a new story to tell Jacob."

Vincent watched from the bank as she took off. The rigidness which seemed to cloak Diana slid off as she glided over the lake. He had thought Lisa's dancing was how one flew, but Diana had a gracefulness even the ballerina could not touch. Lisa tried to fight the gravity which bound her to earth. And Catherine was only all too aware of the gravity beneath her, accepted it even, with a heavy heart, not unlike himself. But Diana was earth and spirit combined, finding a balance, as she spun and glided.

It was a balance Jacob would need to find for himself one day.

I can show him. Carefully, Vincent stepped out onto the ice. Instinct kept him from falling on his face, but it was as if his feet were still stuck in the snow banks.

Stuck in one place.

Moments later, Diana moved to his side. Stray pieces of red hair fell into her bluish green eyes as she watched him.

"Let me help," Diana said, slipping her arm around his.

Vincent gave a tiny nod and tentatively followed. His shoes, more used to the firm dry floors of packed earth and cement, slid. But Diana, as she had done since they first met, refused to let him fall. Her grip on his arm was gentle but firm as they walked further onto the ice.

Gradually, the movement came to him. He and Diana took turns guiding each other across the lake at quicker and more graceful speeds. He felt a gentle breeze blow through his own golden mane; whispering of the magic this night brought. It was if he was flying, no longer bound to the earth. At a spin, he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

Skylight winked upon the icy surface as two angels danced.

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