Disclaimer: I don't own Big O, but I love it.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet Heaven's Day story for Heaven's Day. And then it seemed to take on a life of its own...

Still, better late than never!

If you enjoy this story, I hope you'll check out some of my others. I like to get feedback!


"Mommie! Mommie!" The whimpering was barely detectable, even to Dorothy's sensitive ears. The android was on her way home from the market on a cold, grey afternoon a few days before Heaven's Day. She stopped, listening intently. "Mommie, please wake up!" The child's voice sounded terrified. She moved towards the sound, walking quickly. Here in the illegal residential sector, there were too many places where a woman and child could easily come to grief.

Another moment brought her to an alleyway piled with trash, where she found the woman sprawled awkwardly on the ground, her daughter close by. "Wake up, Mommie!" Dorothy quickly set down her basket and knelt by the woman's side, fearing the worst. "My mommie fell and she won't wake up," the little girl told her. "Why won't she wake up?"

"I don't know," Dorothy said gently, and checked for a pulse. To her relief, she found one. It seemed somewhat weaker than it should be, but it was steady. She checked for any obvious signs of injury. The woman didn't seem to have any bumps on her head, but her skin was overly warm to the touch and her face was very pale. "Can you tell me what happened?" Dorothy asked the child.

"We were looking for..." the child suddenly hesitated, her cheeks turning pink... "we were looking for things, and Mommie fell down. Is she going to be okay? Can you wake her up?"

Dorothy looked around and noticed a torn paper bag nearby that had probably been dropped in the child's haste to get to her mother. A half of a loaf of moldy bread and a couple of badly bruised apples had spilled out on to the ground. Apparently they had been picking through the trash to find food. The woman did seem overly thin, and although her forehead was definitely warmer than it should be, it wasn't so warm as to cause alarm. Perhaps she had simply fainted from hunger. She eased the woman into a head-down sitting position, hoping it would help her recover more quickly. "I think she isn't feeling well, and needs to rest," she reassured the child. "Do you live nearby?"

The girl shuffled her feet uncertainly. "I'm not supposed to tell strangers where I live," she hesitated.

Dorothy opened her mouth and then closed it again, thinking hard. Roger Smith, despite his many failings, was adept at dealing with children and they seemed to like him. How would he handle this? "That's a very good rule, and your mother will be proud that you remembered," she said, wishing she could put the same warmth into her voice that Roger could. "I will introduce myself. My name is Dorothy Wayneright. I live in the big corner building down the street," she gestured in the general direction of the mansion. "I live there with Roger Smith. Have you ever seen him? He always wears a black suit, and he drives a very big car."

"A big black car?" the child asked. "Mommie says he's a.. a... ne...nego... negosher?.. I forget the word! She said he helped people."

"Negotiator," Dorothy said.

The little girl nodded. "I know Norman!" she said, a sudden smile lighting up her face. "I bumped into him when we were going to the park--I was running even though Mommie told me not to. I thought he would be mad, but he wasn't. He gave me a cookie and Mommie said it was all right!"

"What do you think we should do?" Dorothy asked. "It's starting to snow, we don't want your mother to catch a chill. If you want, I can go home and get Norman, but we've got to get your mother someplace warm and dry."

"I guess it would be okay for me to tell you," the child said after thinking it over. She went to the end of the alley and pointed. "We live in the brick building over there."

"All right. Let's get your mother home," Dorothy said. The woman groaned as Dorothy carefully helped her to her feet. Dorothy waited for a moment to see if she would fall again. Although she obviously wasn't fully cognizant of her surroundings, it seemed she was capable of putting one foot in front of the other, which made the task of getting her home a lot simpler. "Will you carry my basket?" Dorothy asked. The little girl nodded and together they guided her mother back to the shabby building they called home.

***

Their apartment was tiny but immaculate, and someone had put a lot of work into fixing it up. The plaster on the walls had been patched and sanded smooth, and the old wood wainscoting had been buffed until it gleamed. There were Heaven's Day decorations set up, including a small tree with tinsel on it tucked into one corner. Had there been fuel for the small stove in the corner, it would have been a snug haven from the winter weather.

Even without heat, it was better to be inside than outside. The little girl brought out some blankets while Dorothy helped her mother to the couch. Once the woman was situated, it was time to address the cause of the problem with the two loaves of bread and fresh butter in the basket. Dorothy found a kitchen knife and cut two slices from one of the loaves and added a generous slathering of butter, handing one to the child and bringing the other piece over to her mother, who seemed slightly less dazed now that she was warmer.

She broke off a small section of the bread and handed it to the woman, who immediately devoured it. Dorothy knew that eating too fast could upset the woman's stomach, so she waited a couple of minutes before passing her another small piece. As she waited to dole out the next portion, she considered the situation.

Dorothy thought the family was likely newly-come to poverty. While their small stock of furniture wasn't luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, it was in good condition, and the couch had a new-looking slipcover. The child was well-cared for, her clothing was neat and whole, and her hair was neatly braided into pigtails. Her jacket was a little small, but it was appropriate to the weather and her shoes were in decent condition, and although she was slightly thin for her height, she was nowhere near as gaunt-looking as her mother. The woman had probably been going without to insure the child had enough, and it had dangerously weakened her.

Dorothy caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and realized the child had devoured her food already and was looking at the rest of the loaf hopefully. "You can have another piece in a few minutes," Dorothy promised, handing her mother another small section.

"You're very kind," the woman's voice was soft and a little hoarse.

"Mommie!" the child shouted, launching herself onto the couch. She patted her mother's hair. "Are you sick, Mommie?"

"I'm feeling much better now," the woman hugged her daughter tight. Dorothy cut two more slices of bread, buttered them and handed them over.

"Aren't you hungry too?" the child asked curiously. "You should have some, you're almost as skinny as Mommie is!"

"Rosalie, that's not a nice thing to say, especially when this lady has been so good to us," her mother chided, taking another bite of bread.

"I am not offended by a statement that is perfectly true," Dorothy said. "I don't need to eat--I am an android."

"You must be Dorothy, then," the woman covered the awkward moment with good manners. "I thought you looked familiar! I'm Elsa Hayden, and I'm very grateful for your help."

"Rosalie told me that you met Norman recently," Dorothy said. "Have you been living here very long?"

"For about six months," Elsa said, finishing off her bread. She sounded stronger now. "My husband Jim and I have been trying to get this building repaired--we were hoping to rent out some of the apartments, but..." her voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry," Dorothy said, assuming he had passed away.

"Oh, nothing happened to him," Elsa said hastily. "It's just that the materials to do the repairs cost more than we expected, so Jim picked up some construction work in the big dome--he's supervising a crew there. He was supposed to be back by Heaven's Day, but the job is running about a month behind. He hasn't been able to come home at all because of all the problems they've had on the construction site. I've tried to send him messages, but I don't think he's getting them."

This was potentially a minefield, but Dorothy had to ask. "Did you run short on funds?" she phrased it as delicately as possible.

"It was my own stupid fault," Elsa said, her eyes filling with tears. "We had a contractor here a couple of weeks after Jim left--we needed to replace the stove and Jim had ordered a new one and made arrangements for someone to install it when it came in. I had to get the money to pay him for the work, and he must have seen where I hid it because when I went to get some a few days later it was gone! I realized then that the spare keys were missing from the hook, he probably grabbed the ring when my back was turned... and then I got the note from Jim saying that he probably wouldn't be home until the job was completed. I haven't heard from him since, but I'm sure if anything was wrong, they would have gotten a message to me."

"I'm sure," Dorothy said, although she wasn't sure at all. "Where is the construction site?"

Elsa named an address in the main dome and Dorothy committed it to memory. Perhaps Roger Smith could be coaxed to bestir himself to make a polite inquiry. In the meantime, something would have to be done to help tide them over. "Did you know that the church has a pantry?" she asked.

"Yes, we went there today, but they had to turn us away," Elsa said. "They had nothing left, they've had nothing for nearly two weeks--there's always great need at this time of year."

Dorothy broke the problem down to the essentials. They needed food, then, and coal for the stove. They would need enough to last them for a couple of weeks. Having often helped Norman balance the household books, Dorothy knew that it would cost about fifty dollars to see them adequately provisioned.

As it happened, she had fifty dollars in her pocket at this very moment. She had been planning to go downtown in the next day or two in order to pick out a Heaven's Day gift for Roger. She intended to buy him another ugly but expensive silk tie, but he had plenty of perfectly good ties, and in weighing his need against this family's, the appropriate action was clear. Unfortunately, it was also clear that Elsa was a proud woman who would never accept the money, and if Dorothy tried to give it to Rosalie, she had no doubt that Elsa would return it to Norman the next time she saw him going to market.

She toyed with the idea of asking Roger to negotiate the situation, but she suspected that if he came to the apartment tomorrow, Elsa would know Dorothy had sent him and she would most likely pretend that she wasn't at home. People didn't like to lose face, and as Roger often remarked, keeping all parties in a negotiation from losing face made up the bulk of his work.

Elsa sneezed several times, breaking into Dorothy's thoughts. She realized it was getting dark, and she needed to leave soon if she was going to make it back to the market to replace the bread and butter. "We aren't going to go and see the lights tonight, are we?" Rosalie asked her mother.

"I'm sorry, Rosalie," Elsa said. "I know I promised I'd bring you, but I don't think it would be a good idea."

"It's all right, Mommie." Rosalie was obviously disappointed but trying to make the best of things. "I don't want you to fall down again."

The child's words gave Dorothy an idea--perhaps this offered an acceptable means to resolution. "Are you talking about the Heaven's Day Village?" she asked.

"Yes, we were going to go and see it tonight," Elsa said, sneezing again.

"I intended to go back to the market, and the Village isn't too far from there," Dorothy said. "I am willing to take Rosalie to see the lights--it sounds like she's been looking forward to it."

"I don't want to impose on you any further," Elsa began, but stopped when she saw the hopeful look on Rosalie's face.

"It wouldn't be any trouble," Dorothy assured her.

"I don't suppose it would do any harm," Elsa mumbled to herself. "It's probably all the Heaven's Day celebration we'll have this year." She was silent a moment more, then finally said reluctantly, "I did promise, didn't I?"

"And a promise is a promise," Dorothy replied.

***

A half an hour later, after a number of admonishments to "be a good girl, and mind Dorothy!", and a frantic search for Rosalie's hat and mittens, the android and child arrived at the market. "Weren't you just here a few hours ago? Surely you didn't eat all that bread and butter already?" the grocer exclaimed when Dorothy went to the counter to pay for her purchases. "Hello there, Rosalie. I thought you might have moved away, it's been so long since I've seen you."

"We ate Dorothy's bread so she has to buy more," Rosalie explained. "We're going to Heaven's Day Village!"

"Roger Smith wouldn't be too happy if he had no bread to eat, would he?" the man said. "Heaven's Day Village? That sounds like fun." He reached into the cold case next to the register and brought a wheel of cheese, cut several thin slices and handed them to the child. "Say, tell me if this is any good," he said. While she was thus distracted, he leaned towards Dorothy and asked softly, "Is there trouble?"

"Apparently," Dorothy nodded. "Mrs. Hayden fainted in the alleyway behind the cafe."

"Is she all right?" the man asked. "We used to see quite a bit of her and her husband, they were working on refurbishing that building down the street. Don't tell me something happened to him."

Dorothy quickly related a brief version of Elsa's story, and the grocer shook his head. "That's a bad, bad business," he said, shaking his head. "I wish she'd come by and spoken to me---we could have worked out some kind of trade for a few groceries. I could use an extra clerk on the weekend when the deliveries come in, it's only a few hours but it would earn her enough food to keep body and soul together. When you and Rosalie go back, you tell Elsa to come by on Saturday morning. I don't mind if she brings the child with her, she just needs to take care of the customers while I'm getting things checked in and put away. Rosalie, child, what are you doing?"

"It's very good cheese and I want Mommie to have a piece too," the child said, still trying to wrap it with the bit of torn paper from her pocket.

"Tell you what," the grocer said. "You eat that piece, and you and Dorothy stop by on the way back and I'll give you some wrapped up all proper for your mother, how's that?" He turned to Dorothy. "Just go to the delivery door," he said, reaching into the cash drawer and passing over a key. "This will let you in, just leave it on the shelf next to the door when you leave."

The arrangement was evidently satisfactory, because Rosalie immediately popped the last of the cheese into her mouth. Dorothy accepted a napkin from the grocer and wiped the child's face. After another brief discussion with the grocer, she handed him her basket and turned to the child. "Are you ready to go?" she asked. "We need to make one more stop and then we can go to Heaven's Day Village."

***

Dorothy had never understood why Heaven's Day was accompanied by elaborate lighting and decorations, but Rosalie was delighted enough for both of them. The child flitted from one display to the next, exclaiming over the colors of the lights and pointing out her favorite characters--she seemed to be particulary fond of "elfs". It was still snowing, but not heavily enough to accumulate on the sidewalk.

Overall, she was very well behaved. There was a bad moment when she got upset at being refused an enormous piece of chocolate cake layered with whipped cream and covered with hot fudge, but Dorothy was able to convince her that she shouldn't have any sweets until she'd had a real supper. They bought a sausage on a roll from a pushcart, and then they got a second, and then a third. "She must be going through a growth spurt," the vendor smiled when they approached the cart for the last time.

With her belly comfortably full, Rosalie was quite content with an oversized candy cane for dessert, and they took one last look at her favorite displays, visited the ladies' room and then joined the line of parents and children waiting to see Santa Claus.

Rosalie chattered excitedly about telling Santa what she wanted for Heaven's Day, but when it was her turn, she hid behind Dorothy. "Ah, we have a shy one," one of Santa's Helpers said. "Don't you want a picture with Santa?"

"Will you come with me?" Rosalie whispered. "Mommie always comes with me."

"If you wish," Dorothy said, allowing Rosalie to take her hand and lead the way. Apparently it was not entirely uncommon for an android to bring a child for a picture, because one of the Helpers pulled out a cleverly-designed bench that allowed Dorothy to appear to be seated on Santa's lap without actually doing so.

Rosalie's shyness disappeared and she spoke to Santa earnestly, whispering into his ear. "I'll see what I can do, little girl," he said.

One of the Helpers brought over a red stocking cap trimmed with fake white fur and put it on Dorothy's head, much to Rosalie's pleasure. "You look like one of the elfs!" she said with satisfaction.

"All right, smile and say "Merry Heaven's Day", the Helper who was operating the camera instructed. There was a flash and the picture was complete.

"Could we take a second picture?" Dorothy asked on impulse.

"No problem! Merry Heaven's Day!" the Helper gave them their cue and the flash went off again. Rosalie seemed to be tiring, so they went over and sat down on a bench while they waited for the photos to be developed.

A few minutes later, one of the Helpers called them over. Dorothy inspected the pictures, thinking that she looked ridiculous in the stocking cap, but Rosalie seemed pleased. "Now I'll always remember you," she said. Dorothy turned to pay for the pictures, and then she heard Rosalie shout, "Daddy!" Even Dorothy's lightning-fast reflexes weren't fast enough to catch the child. She left the pictures on the counter and hurried after her.

For one awful moment, Dorothy couldn't see her through the crowd, but then she caught a glimpse of her hat. She moved through the knot of people as quickly as she could, and caught the back of Rosalie's jacket just as the child was about to run into the busy street. "Daddy!" she called.

The man Rosalie had been following looked back at the commotion, and the child sat down on the sidewalk and burst into tears. "That isn't my Daddy," she wept. "I asked Santa to send him home for Heaven's Day, and I thought my wish had already come true."

Dorothy was at a loss. "It isn't Heaven's Day yet," she said, picking Rosalie up. She patted her back awkwardly, wishing again for Roger's easy warmth. Rosalie buried her face into Dorothy's shoulder, still crying.

"Poor child, she sounds worn out," a matronly-looking woman said sympathetically.

"It's been a long day," Dorothy agreed. "Why don't we take you home," she said to Rosalie, and turned to leave.

They had barely gone a quarter of a block when Rosalie began to wail again. "The pictures," she sobbed. "We don't have our pictures with Santa!"

Dorothy wanted nothing more than to bring the child home at that point, but she patiently turned around and went back to get the photos. Looking at them seemed to calm the child, and she made no protest when Dorothy said it was time to leave.

They stopped at the market on the way back. To Dorothy's surprise, there was a large, brightly-wrapped package addressed to Elsa and Rosalie in addition to the two bags that she had expected to see. There was also a folding cart with a note for her attached to the handle that said that she was to use it to deliver the packages and return it at her convenience. Dorothy was glad to see the cart. Although she was easily strong enough to carry the packages, their bulk would have made it awkward, especially if she had to carry Rosalie, who looked almost asleep on her feet.

Dorothy carefully arranged everything in the cart, then hoisted Rosalie on to her hip. They made much faster progress since Dorothy didn't have to slow down to accommodate the child, and they were soon back at the apartment building. Fortunately, Elsa had left the door unlocked for them, because she was so deeply asleep that she didn't even stir when Dorothy wheeled the cart into the apartment.

After making sure that Elsa was indeed sleeping, Dorothy set to work. She had Rosalie wait at the kitchen table while she unpacked the cart. She put the smaller bag on the table and brought the large bag over to the stove. In a few minutes, she had a fire going, and she filled the kettle with water and put it on top of the stove.

When the water was heated enough to be comfortably warm, she helped Rosalie to wash up and get into her nightclothes. They had a brief debate as to which picture Rosalie preferred, but with that decision out of the way, the child was quite happy to be tucked into bed, and it was only a few seconds before her eyes closed and she was sleeping as soundly as her mother.

Dorothy refilled the kettle and put it back on the stove, then put away the food from the other bag. The Heaven's Day present was put under the tree for Elsa to see in the morning. By then, the apartment was at a much more comfortable temperature, so after adding a bit more coal, she banked the fire so that it wouldn't go out during the night.

After propping the picture Rosalie had chosen on the mantel, Dorothy gathered her things and left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

***

"I'll see to it that Master Roger makes an inquiry," Norman said after hearing about Dorothy's evening. "I think you did the right thing, although I must admit I was beginning to worry about you." He sipped his tea, thinking for a moment. "Before you go looking for what you need at the mall tomorrow, let me check the storeroom," he said. "I think I have just the thing."

***

Roger turned up the gas fire and stretched his toes out to the warmth, taking a sip of his drink with a sigh of satisfaction. The case he was on had looked like it was going to involve a ridiculous amount of legwork, but in a satisfying piece of synchronicity, his own manservant had handed him the key that had unraveled the whole mess and everyone got to be home for Heaven's Day Eve. The only thing that had been missing was the pretty paper and bow. Of course, Dorothy would be seeing to that part in a little while, he was quite sure. He'd be getting another tie, no doubt, for all that he already had twenty identical ones. He had enough ties, in fact, to last him the rest of his natural lifetime.

Still, he knew how important it was to her to exchange gifts. This year he had gotten her a pair of tickets to Paradigm City's annual charity ball. Their friend Instro was one of the featured soloists, and he thought she would enjoy it. He made a mental note to tell her she needed to visit the dressmaker at least two weeks in advance so she would have a suitable gown.

He savored the taste of the whiskey, letting it warm him up inside the way the fire was warming his frozen toes. There had been flurries for the past three days, but early this morning, it had begun snowing in earnest, and there were several of inches on the ground. Fortunately, thanks to Norman, he hadn't had to slog through it.

Roger had been investigating a slowdown at a construction site in the main dome--the owner suspected sabotage. Critical materials had gone missing, others had been damaged, and there had even been a minor fire at the site. The first day he spent gathering information at the site. The foreman, Jim Hayden, had almost panicked when he was told he couldn't leave until the investigation was complete. It was late by then and Roger had only spoken to him briefly, but the man had claimed that he had a message from his wife that there had been trouble and he needed to return home to make sure all was well.

The original plan for the next day had involved Roger interviewing all the workers, but when he had gone home, Norman had mentioned a woman in the neighborhood whose husband was working at the very construction site that Roger was investigating. The elderly butler quickly confirmed the man's story--apparently he had heard about his wife running afoul of a dishonest contractor.

It hadn't taken any effort whatsoever to get the name of that contractor--Roger had simply asked. A few more interviews revealed that one of the men on the crew often partnered with the very same contractor who had robbed the foreman's wife, and a short while later, it came out that the contractor was angry that he'd been passed over for the foreman's job. The pair had sabotaged the site hoping to make Hayden look bad. The theft from his wife had been a simple crime of opportunity, and although the money was long gone, Roger made a point of seeing to it that Hayden collected a nice bonus for his help in identifying the saboteur.

The site owner was very satisfied with the quick results, and gave the crew the wages that he'd held pending the resolution of the investigation and sent them off to their holiday. Roger had personally delivered Jim Hayden to his family, who were overjoyed at his return. They were in far better circumstances than either Jim or Roger had expected, his wife and daughter said they had been visited by one of Santa's elves, who had brought them food and fuel and even taken the child to see the Heaven's Day Village.

They invited Roger in, but he was tired and cold and his feet were wet, so he politely declined. Roger heard Dorothy's familiar tread on the stairs, and he stood up, quickly concealed the envelope holding a holiday card with the tickets. "It's Heaven's Day Eve, Roger Smith," Dorothy said.

"Why so it is," he said, noticing that the package she carried wasn't the same shape and size that it usually was. Could she possibly have gotten him something different? Perhaps she had noticed he needed more handkerchiefs? He studied the package. It was the right size and shape for handkerchiefs. Perhaps Norman had gently suggested that she not get another tie.

"So what have we here?" he asked. "It looks like a Heaven's Day present."

Dorothy's eyes narrowed. "You state the obvious, Roger Smith."

He smiled at her, knowing, the sarcastic answer was only tradition. "Would you like your gift first, or would you like me to open mine?" he asked.

She looked around, puzzled. "I see no Heaven's Day Gift other than the one in my hand, Roger Smith."

"That's because some gifts are too small to put in a box," he said, reaching for the envelope. "Happy Heaven's Day, Dorothy."

She eyed the envelope with a dour expression before opening it. "It's a very nice card," she said, very polite. "Thank you, Roger."

"Dorothy," he said patiently, "you're supposed to read the card."

"Oh!" Dorothy looked surprised. Dorothy looked pleased. It was one of the most satisfying moments Roger Smith had ever experienced.

"You're welcome to ask anyone you like to accompany you, but I'm hoping you'll invite me," Roger said. "Merry Heaven's Day, Dorothy."

There was a tiny hint of a smile on her face as she passed over his package. "Merry Heaven's Day, Roger," she said. His guess that it was handkerchiefs couldn't be correct, unless they'd begun making handkerchiefs out of lead. What on earth had she given him? He tore off the wrapping paper and stared in shock at the nicely framed picture within.

"I was going to get you a tie," she said when the silence stretched out to the point of discomfort, "but I happened upon a woman and a little girl..."

"Who had been robbed by the contractor who installed their stove, and were in desperate need of assistance," Roger murmured.

"How did you know?" Dorothy asked.

"I gave Jim Hayden a ride home today," he said. He opened the stand on the frame and put the picture in a prominent position on the mantel and stared at it. "You know, I don't think I ever explained why I disliked Heaven's Day," he said. He paused to take another sip of his whiskey, then continued, "I'm not sure if we'll ever know what the holiday was for originally, although everyone seems to agree that part of it is the giving of gifts. But there are gifts and then there are gifts."

Dorothy looked slightly puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"There are two kinds of gifts," he said. "One kind is mostly about quantity. How many gifts you were given," his lip curled in distaste. "How much the gifts cost. How much better your gifts were than someone else's. Gifts that are simply a commodity, approached from a purely material standpoint. Unfortunately, it seems to me that more and more, Heaven's Day is about those kinds of gifts."

"And the other kind?" she asked.

"The other kind I'd call gifts of... gifts of self," he said. "Sometimes it's doing something for someone, like Norman making a special dinner for my birthday. Sometimes the gifts can be purchased, of course, but it's not the price that matters, it's the thought, like that bottle of whiskey Dan gave me. He knows I like good whiskey, he knows my favorite kind, so he gets me that rather than giving me a fancy bottle of something just because it looks expensive. Sometimes it's just noticing a little thing and taking care of it, like the tool belt I gave Norman. Do you remember how pleased he was? His old one was worn out, and he kept mending it and it kept falling apart, and he kept forgetting to get a new one."

Dorothy looked down at the floor. "But my gift isn't anything like that," she said. "I don't think you really needed a picture of me in a silly hat."

"I disagree," he said.. "This picture tells me that you know what really matters to me, and I think it's the nicest Heaven's Day present anyone has ever given me."

***

On the afternoon of Heaven's Day, Jim Hayden stopped by the mansion to thank Dorothy and Roger again for their help. To Dorothy's surprise, Roger invited Jim to come back with the family for dinner, and a very merry Heaven's Day was had by all. Three months later, with the help of the bonus, the Haydens were able to complete the repairs of the first few apartments in the building. Three months after that, they had acquired enough tenants to fix up more apartments, and with the reputation the building had as a clean safe place where rents were reasonable, within two years it was fully refurbished and occupied. One apartment on the first floor wasn't rented out, but it often had tenants who had found themselves in desperate circumstances..

***

On the day after Heaven's Day, the pastor at the church answered a knock at the rectory door and was shocked to be the recipient of enough food to completely restock the church's empty pantry. Smaller donations arrived after that at one month intervals, and he was never forced to turn anyone away again.

***

On the eighteenth of January, Roger and Dorothy attended the Paradigm City charity ball, which raised nearly twice as much money as it had the year before.

***

Roger received some new handkerchiefs, and, even better, a morning of blissful silence on his birthday.

***

We have come to terms.