A Christmas Angel

It's that time of year again; there is the perfect excuse of a seasonal fic to distract me from my other stories, all of which desperately need a chapter adding!

I initially thought this would be a one-shot, after looking at the word count so far, and realising I am not as close to the end as I'd thought. I have decided to make it a short story, of three or maybe four chapters, with the aim to post the final chapter just before Christmas. So, I will save my season's greetings until I meet that challenge! Wish me luck, short stories, other than one-shots, are not something I have tried before. I hope I don't get so carried away that it bridges the gap between two Christmases!

I make nothing nor do I wish to. These wonderful characters, gifted by the Anderson's, are borrowed, loved and placed back with care for others to play with.

For Creative Girl 29, who recently reminded me, it may be good for me to post something new.

I hope you enjoy.

OooOooOooOooOoo

Chapter 1: Hideaway

Jeff watched the flakes of snow dance outside the window of his 34th story office, the white-out giving the impression he was existing in a bubble amongst them. The whole of the Manhattan skyline was greyed out or completely hidden by the storm, not the imposing sight he was used to. The winter sky, for the fourth time in as many days had claimed the earth. It gave a sense of serenity. A feeling in direct opposition to the thoughts reeling around inside his head, as the phone had hit the cradle in the minutes before the window had captured his attention and stayed his anger.

'You get your hide on a plane home Jeff Tracy, or I will drag it back myself!'

His mother had never been known for beating around the bush. Although, in fairness, she had started with gentle persuasion. This was the fifth call on the subject in two weeks and he knew his refusal to budge was wearing on her patience.

"It's the 17th Jeff.. They need to enjoy the run up to Christmas with you, even if you are too stubborn to see it. They need a tree, permission to enjoy the seasonAnd. Your father wants me back home, he deserves more than a wife that just flits into his life when the kids are a school. I cannot pick up your slack for much longer!"

He had returned her plea with assurances that he would be all theirs by the 23rd, the presents had been bought, wrapped and would be shipped back with him. He'd arranged for two weeks leave and then, he'd promised faithfully, family would be his number 1 priority.

"It's not the gifts Jeff, its time you spend with them, traditions are important. And whatever you are thinking right now, it's not about what I want" Her voice had lowered to a whisper "They miss her too, and working from home for a month or so will not cause the company to collapse. What's the use of being the man in charge if you don't call the shots on your own time?"

He had a thousand arguments for that. The legal team were in the middle of negotiating the take-over of a competitor. He had three prototypes in full testing and the launch of his high altitude passenger shuttle scheduled for the end of January. The excuses were primed and ready to trip from his tongue, but they were stalled as he heard a deep intake of breath at the other end of the line.

"Jeff it's been three weeks since you were home, they needed more than the three days you gave them for Thanksgiving. Come home, buy a tree, attend the school performances … above all, BE A FATHER! You have a seven month old who is forgetting what you look like."

That hit him in the guts and the heart in one perfectly aimed punch. Seven months! It had been only seven months since he had gained a son and lost a wife all within an hour. It felt like a lifetime but stung every day like it had happened only the day before. Surely his mother could see how the first Christmas without her …. His gaze got lost in one beautiful snowflake that danced on the wind in front of his window, before catching on the glass and melting into a droplet. It's individuality spoiled by chemistry. He looked away, surveying the four walls that had been his life for the past four months. A life he'd thrown himself into, whatever his mother thought it was not an escape, he was needed here, especially after taking close to five months off in parental leave. The place had gone to shit without him!

He huffed to himself; after all, the re-occurring theme of his mother's argument persuading him to return home had been about the boys needing a tree. A Tree! Nothing she couldn't cope with herself, and that was not his job, it had never been his job. It had always been Lucille's. He paced as the thoughts hit in quick succession, retrieving the boxes decorations from the loft that were labelled, by colour, in her beautifully, bold handwriting, was his sole contribution. Well, apart from filming the tree going from naked as nature intended, to modern art created by several pairs of little hands.

That brought the first smile of the day. His attention turned to the screen on his desk. The mouse hovered over his private files, photographs, videos, private e-mails some with snippets of the children's exploits while he was away from home, others most definitely for his eyes only. He hovered over the list, took a deep breath and opened the one Lucille had playfully entitled Treemageddon!, taken exactly a year to the day. He leaned back in his Italian leather chair, today he would take the pain, today, he deserved it.

The file opened. A still shot of his grinning wife cradling her giant bump and rolling her eyes at a Gordon powered tinsel explosion on the lowest three feet of the coniferous giant.

He pressed play.

His family sprung into action to the backing track of an exasperated Virgil trying to gain some symmetry and tidy his brothers offering into a garland effect. Scotty and John were staying out of the ensuing argument, adding balls higher up the tree, laughing at the tinsel war going on below. Lucille's eyes were shining with mirth as she ruffled their youngest child's hair "You know what your brother is like Gordon. He treats the tree like an art project." Jeff snorted. Who was she kidding! As soon as those boys were in bed she would spend the next three hours re-arranging everything until she had a tree fit for the Oval Office! The camera moved closer to his wife's face, the shot dropped to the floor. He knew that was when he had kissed her, an action confirmed by the chorus of 'Ewwe that's disgustin' out of shot. There were tears springing in his eyes at the memory of the soft skin of her cheek, she always turned he head to offer her cheek in the presence of the children. The tears started to fall, blurring the screen. By the time focus had returned, the family were in a line either side of the tree for the topping out ceremony. "Whose turn is it this year?" he heard his own voice question.

"Mine." Scott's demanded, with authority. "Gordon's last year, Virgil did it the year before, before that John, so me!"

The camera exchanged hands. Lucille's playful voice, 'heavy lifting's your remit," which she accompanied with a giggle, "although, my whole existence is heavy lifting at the moment." He pictured her patting her belly out of shot. The elastic effect she'd called it. With each pregnancy her belly seemed to explode more quickly than the last. With Scott she'd only started showing at five months gone, by Alan she'd looked full term with three months to go. The tears returned. He could not see the screen but could perfectly visualise the scene. Scott on his shoulders with 'the angel that had seen better days' in his hand, waiting for the boisterous, FIVE...FOUR...THREE…TWO… ONE! The light switch on, perfectly timed as the angel was placed on the top. The weight bending the crowning glory of the tree, so she looked like she was looking down on them. A purposely positioned fairy light lit her white dress from within, giving the effect of holy light emanating from her being. The one decoration that would make the cut with certainty, remain untouched by his wife's hand until the guardian of the tree was ready to be boxed up again for the following year. This Year!

A cough shook him from the memory. Jeff's pressed pause, and his gaze returned to the window.

"Yes, what is it!" It sounded harsh from the man with the open door policy, but then usually he didn't indulge in things that should be kept private, in the office. At least until the last of his co-workers had left the building.

"I j…just wanted to wish you h…happy holidays Mr Tracy, and to t…thank you for allowing me to spend time with you on your p…project." The man was blushing profusely.

"Take a seat Hiram." The man deserved a little of his time. He studied him. Man was maybe a little strong considering he was only eight years older than his eldest. But, the teen in front of him had worked with them for only four months and made more headway into the clean fuel problem than his overpaid team. If he couldn't claim man, he could certainly claim genius, and future Nobel Prize winner! If Jeff were still a betting man he'd put money on it now. They were launching in January, ahead of schedule, due to his tireless work. Eighteen hours a day for four months, and he had insisted on being paid nothing but expenses for the privilege. For a man juggling the second year of his degree in Cambridge, and what amounted to little more to him than an internship in New York, he sure didn't make any sizable dent in the expense budget that had been allocated him. Jeff felt sorry for the boy; he would miss the launch of a shuttle that would be flying on his hastily patented fuel formula by a matter of weeks. But, this part of his studies was over. University would claim him for at least two more years, and Jeff smelled a doctorate in this one, adding another couple at least, possibly more if they funded research for him. Jeff was certainly going to keep an eye on his career and make a job offer a regular conversation starter. The seat proffered was the least he owed him.

"You wife is beautiful s…sir."

Jeff looked at the freeze frame. Lucille, head on to the camera with light in her eyes, "Yes, she was." She'd turned the camera on herself, her playful wink captured. He knew she was already planning the covert tree redecoration that would happen while little eyes were firmly closed.

"Sorry s…sir I didn't know, and didn't m…mean to interrupt…." He was still standing, uncertain if the seat had been offered as a hastily adopted conciliatory courtesy, or if it was genuinely meant.

Jeff took the ambiguity away, opened his bottom draw, brought out two glasses and graced their bottom with the amber liquid of choice.

Hiram shook his head while taking the seat, "I won't s..sir. I just wanted to say b…before I leave, that it has been an h…honour to w…work with you."

The company would miss him, "The offer's there Hackenbacker, I'll take a call night or day if you change your mind. I could do with a man like you. I'll fund your studies this side of the pond." Jeff was starting to feel grateful for the return of 'Jeff the business man'. This world had nothing missing from it, and he was a fully functioning man he recognised.

"I have y…years of s…study ahead." His associate responded, taking the glass of water now offered instead of the alcohol.

"Promise me first refusal." Jeff ventured.

"That, I can m…most definitely do!" Hiram smiled at him across the desk, "I'd l…like to w…watch the launch on the c…company feed if you will allow me to a…access it."

Ah, the reason for the visit, behind the subtext of goodbye and thank you. He wanted to watch his work come to fruition. And, Jeff couldn't blame the man for that.

"Allow it! I insist upon it!" Jeff drained his glass, stood and offered his hand, "It is I that has been honoured to work alongside you. Are you travelling home today?"

The young man in the glasses nodded.

Jeff picked up the telephone.

"Sandy," He covered the mouthpiece "JFK?"

Another nod to the affirmative.

"Sandy, please arrange Mr Hackenbacker a taxi on account to JFK. If his flight's not first-class, upgrade him, and if it's delayed due to the weather, book him into the Hilton."

"You d…don't n…need to do t…that S…sir." Hiram stuttered more noticeably, showing pinking signs of embarrassment at the fuss he was creating.

"I don't need to, but I do want to." Jeff assured to the retreating enigma.

Jeff watched the man leave; he met many men that made little or no impression on him. He was certain he would be thinking about this man for many years to come.

He drained the already poured second glass, his eyes searching the still shot of his wife. The draw to the once comfortable but now uncomfortable past was just too much, he could feel a familiar itch to make a dent in the bottle and wallow in pain. He pressed play, a further thirty seconds of footage before the video ended with his wife turning the camera on herself again and whispering "Jeff, these are the memories that will keep us warm in our old age," With that she puckered up and kissed the camera and her lips were frozen in time.

His wife had just reinforced everything his mother had tried to tell him. He sat up in the chair, placed the bottle back where it belonged, "I hear ya honey, I hear you."

He picked up the telephone "Sandy, reschedule all my appointments to the New Year. I will be leaving tomorrow for the holidays, fend all but the most urgent of calls….And Sandy … You can work from home, Merry Christmas!"

He knew is PA well, she would of course put in the hours where needed but not within family time. On home-working days, she was the midnight mailer, the call maker to the background noise of a playground, the pre-dawn spreadsheet designer. He should've taken a leaf from her book on his return. When it came to home-working she delivered for him, and did not forget her other, more important, responsibilities. Her understanding, and totally besotted husband, David, the twins Grace and Jackson six years old and full of cheek, just like their mother. Jeff would ensure that suitable gifts for all were sent to her home address. She deserved it after the year his moods had put her through, and he'd been in work for only half of it!