DISCLAIMER: Cyborg 009 is, in no way or form, mine.
A/N: First, I would like to apologise for my long absence. Now that that's out of the way, I would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a belated merry Christmas and a very happy new year. Now, to ring in 2007, a story from me. Consider it my gift to you, my readers:) Enjoy.
XOXOXO
Angels in the Snow.
Dr. Gilmore clutched his mug of hot chocolate tighter as he gazed out the window. The steam rose up out of the mug, fogging up the glass. Sighing, he passed his hand over the glass, clearing away the steam. The snow was falling faster now, and so thickly that it almost obscured the window. Through the silence of the falling snow, he could hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air, and he looked down at the yard. Despite the cold, Joe and Françoise were playing in the snow. Dr. Gilmore smiled and sat down in his chair.
Down in the yard, Joe watched as Françoise twirled about in the snow, performing an impromptu ballet. He laughed and clapped as she completed her dance. Flushed and smiling, she collapsed on the ground, the freshly fallen snow cushioning her fall.
"That was fantastic!" Joe exclaimed. "Do another one!"
Françoise laughed. "Not now, I'm too tired."
"Okay then. Maybe later?"
"Hmm, maybe," she said softly, closing her eyes.
Joe looked at her for a few seconds and then lay down beside her. He glanced up at the sky but almost immediately shut his eyes due to the falling snow. He sighed and turned his head to look at the girl lying next to him. His gaze softened as he watched her, her cheeks rosy and her lips parted slightly in a tiny smile. A few stray strands of golden hair lay across her cheek. He reached over to brush them away. As his fingers touched her face, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him.
"What were you thinking about?" she asked.
"Honestly…I was thinking about how beautiful you were looking just now, your hair around your face, framing it against the white of the snow…just like a golden halo. You looked like an angel."
She smiled and a soft blush crept to her already pink cheeks. "On the subject of angels, have you ever made a snow angel?"
"Sure, lots of times."
"Well have you ever made a perfect angel?"
He moved his eyes to hers. "No. I must admit I haven't."
She sat up. "That's what I was thinking about. Why is it that you can never make a perfect snow angel? You get it pretty near perfect, but when you're getting up, somehow you always manage to leave your handprints in the snow, right in the angel's wings."
Joe sat up as well, and knitted his eyebrows slightly. "Well I've never thought about it…"
Françoise stood up and looked down at him. "Try it now."
He looked into her eyes for a moment, wondering if she was serious. Her face was set and her eyes held no hint of a jest. "Go on," she urged.
Feeling a bit foolish, Joe lay back down and moved his arms up and down, and his legs side to side, creating the likeness of an angel in the snow.
"Alright, that's enough," Françoise said. "Get up."
He obeyed.
"Now look."
Again, he obeyed. There in the snow, in either of the angel's wings, was his handprint.
"See what I mean?"
He looked at her. "Yeah, I do."
She sighed in what seemed to him like frustration. "I just don't get it. An angel is such a holy and beautiful symbol. It can symbolize hope, love, peace, happiness…making snow angels is one way in which we can try to embody all that goodness and miraculous wonder. They're so simple, yet it's so hard to create the perfect one. You always leave your handprint, and that just ruins it. I've tried so hard all my life to make a perfect snow angel and I've never succeeded. It's such a shame! Angels are miracle workers, but it can't take a miracle to make a perfect one, can it?"
Joe couldn't suppress a smile. Her little speech would have seemed so pointless to the average listener, but Joe was certainly, by far, above average. He understood her inside out. "No," he responded, "It doesn't need a miracle."
She looked up at him quickly. He was smiling. "You make an angel now."
Her eyes lingered on him a second longer, and then flew down to the snow. "Okay."
She sank to the ground, lay in the snow and moved her limbs in exactly the same manner as Joe did.
"Alright, now give me your hands."
She looked at him quizzically, but followed his instructions without a word. He grasped her wrists, and pulled her up as if she were no lighter than a feather. Françoise turned her head to look at the angel. It was perfect. A smile lit up her face, and she flung her arms around Joe. Pulling away slightly to look into his eyes, she asked, "How did you figure it out?"
He simply shrugged. "Angels may be miracle workers, but even they need a helping hand in order to be perfect."
XOXOXO
A/N: I have never even seen snow, much less made a snow angel… Just thought I'd let you know lol. Now, this story contains a very important message to you all. This New Year, let's all strive to be the "helping hand". Angels exist all around us, performing their little miracles. But in order for their work to be carried out properly, they need a little help. That's where we can come in. Well I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!o! So, review, and tell me what you thought. Again, Happy New Year! Lataz.
-Giselle-
