This story was prompted by an anonymous person on tumblr, who asked me to write about Flynn as an angel. Well, it sparked a story that ended up far more complex and lengthy than either of us were expecting. It will update once a day until Christmas.

I'd also like to make a note that due to the nature of this story, religion plays a heavy role - specifically Christianity. It was not my intention to make this either for or against religion, and the beliefs of the characters should not be taken as my own beliefs, or that any one of them is necessarily right.

Chapter One: Good Tidings for Christmas

"…Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Make the Yuletide gay…"

The radio was set to a low volume, but it filled the silence of the almost-empty shop. It was a cover by some pop singer with too much synth, but Estelle had to admit it was better than some of the other songs that popped up on 24-hour Christmas channels. If she had to listen to "Santa Baby" again, she was going to scream.

The best thing Estelle had to say for Christmas this year was that at least her boss had waited until December first to decorate the shop. Stores in the area had been plastering Santa's face on things since mid-October, but Drake's Books was a classy establishment and that meant Christmas was confined to December. It did not, however, mean that he had the employee base to hire multiple people to put up the decorations. Estelle was the one on shift this evening, so it was her job to finish decorating the store. She'd already hung wreaths on the walls and strung garland around the counter, and all she needed to do now was finish decorating the miniature plastic tree sitting on the counter.

She glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes to eight, and then she was going home whether this tree was finished or not. It had been one of those Mondays and the thought of her warm bed was the only thing keeping her going. She'd already spent the whole day at school and there was a page of calculus in her backpack under the front counter that she wanted to get done before heading to bed. She'd gotten caught up asking her teacher for help with it after school, but his explanation ran long and she wound up missing her bus. This made her five minutes late to work, and Mr. Dropwart did not suffer excuses lightly. There hadn't even been time to change out of her school uniform, leaving her wearing her red plaid skirt and yellow sweater all afternoon.

The bell over the door jingled as a man walked in. Oh, no. She glanced at the clock again and sighed. "We close in six minutes," she called over her shoulder.

"Oh, don't worry about me," he said smoothly. "I'm just looking."

He stood in front of the broad front window, examining the display of picture books, cooking books, and craft books spread across the white cotton. Supposedly, it looked like snow. Teddy bears with Santa hats held cardboard baby books and shining plastic baubles hung from the window frame. Estelle thought it looked quite nice, objectively speaking, but couldn't stop the tremor of resentment as she eyed the festive display. It was because she'd gotten a paper-cut hanging up those posters, she told herself.

Estelle looked back at the ceramic Charles Dickens bust she was hanging on the tree a few branches away from ceramic Edward Allen Poe and William Shakespeare. Maybe I should re-read your book, Mr. Dickens. I'm certainly in the 'bah, humbug!' mood this year. It had only been December for just under twenty hours, and she was ready to shove the entire holiday season in a box in the attic and never look back.

"What a nice tree."

She jolted; the man had snuck up behind her. No, that was rude; she'd been distracted and hadn't noticed him approach. Snuck implied he was being malicious. "Thank you. Can I help you find something, sir?"

"Oh, no, I'm just browsing."

He was an odd-looking fellow. The man was tall and thin, wearing straight black slacks and shiny black shoes. Black was the general theme of the entire ensemble, from the sharp winter coat trimmed in pale purple to the collar poking out. On second glance, he even wore a black necktie, though it blended in with his shirt and made it hard to pick out. Perhaps his plan was to make his face stand out, because he'd dyed his hair an unmissable powder blue and Estelle was certain he'd applied some colour to his lips. Out the window, she spotted a sleek black car on the side of the road.

Estelle affixed a ceramic Agatha Christie to the tree and called it done. The man seemed to be standing unnecessarily close, so she tried not to make it obvious she was avoiding him as she scooted around the counter. It formed a nice barrier between them. "I don't mean to rush you, sir, but we close in three minutes." She maintained her cheerful customer service smile, but internally she screamed, get out of this shop this instant. I'm not staying here a minute past eight. She'd had a sandwich during a break about three hours ago, but she was starting to get hungry again and eager to get home to her kitchen.

The man leaned forward and folded his arms on the counter. His eyes darted around and landed on the security camera over her head. The way he minutely frowned made her spine tingle. Estelle had received enough stranger-danger PSAs throughout her childhood to pick up on the major creepy vibes this guy was giving off.

"Do you work here full-time?"

"Part time. I'm still in high-school." If he wanted to hit on her, maybe letting him know she was still underage would put him off.

"Ah, yes, I see from your uniform. Is it a private school?"

"Yes. A good one; students come from all over the city." So it would be useless to use her school's location to narrow down an area she lived in. Of course, Estelle did live not far from her school, but he didn't need to know that.

The man's purplish lips smiled. Maybe he thought it looked stylish, but it just reminded Estelle of someone suffocating. "There's no need to be antsy, my dear. My name is Alexander Cumore. It's nice to make your acquaintance." He stuck out his hand.

Estelle took it slowly. The clock ticked past 7:59. She lightly brushed his fingers in a polite shake that hopefully wouldn't cause a scene, but he tightened his grip and held her firmly. His hands were thin and spindly like spiders, but he had a surprisingly strong grip.

"And what's your name, dear?"

Estelle blurted the first name that came to mind. "Rita."

"What a lovely name, Miss Rita." His lips twitched as he spoke and Estelle got the distinct impression he knew she was lying.

She glanced at the clock again. "Sir, it's past closing time now. I'm afraid you're going to need to leave."

"Ah, so it is. It was very nice to meet you, Rita. Have a safe walk home."

The bell jingled again as he walked out. Estelle didn't move until she watched him climb into his car and drive away. When he was gone, she shuddered and impulsively wiped her hand on her skirt. What a creep.

At least it was time to go home. By now she was starving and her mouth watered as she imagined the delicious leftover pasta in her fridge. She closed up the shop as quickly as she could. Outside, she pulled her jacket tighter and started the walk home. She lived just far enough for it to be a pain to walk it, but not so far that walking to the nearest bus stop and waiting fifteen minutes for the next bus was worth the effort.

There weren't many people on the streets tonight. They'd gotten all the drinking and partying out of their systems over the weekend, and the urge wouldn't build up again until at least Thursday. Her breath fogged as she walked, but it hadn't snowed yet. Estelle hoped they didn't get very much this year; it would make the walk home even more tedious.

As she walked, she went over her calculus homework in her head. This class was going to be the death of her. Math had never been her forte, but she'd foolishly thought taking the advanced placement version of calculus was doable. In part it was because her mom wanted her to, but she also thought it would give her an extra edge on university applications. She couldn't drop out now, or her transcripts would be messed up and she might not get into a top university. She just had to buckle down and figure it out, and invite Rita over to help with her homework whenever she could.

Her path took her between the flat wall of an industrial building and the back of an apartment building. A row of balconies rose above her, but nobody was out tonight. Just before she'd turned the corner, she'd seen some guy up ahead talking on his cellphone, but now the only sign of life she saw were some lights glowing behind curtains high above her head. The sidewalk was narrow and only on one side of the road here. There were other, much nicer, routes she could take home, but this one was both shorter and devoid of the overbearing lights and Christmas decorations strung up along the main roads.

When did Christmas turn into a whole season, anyway? It was supposed to be a day to celebrate the birth of Christ, but it had turned into a three-month-long hullabaloo over a jolly old elf. Of course, it wasn't that Estelle was personally offended Jesus was getting ignored on his own birthday. Well… maybe. She really wasn't sure how she felt about that, actually. Usually at this time of year, her church was getting into the Christmas spirit, too. Estelle had been an angel in the annual nativity play for ten years in a row as a child. But this year, well…

Estelle sighed and her breath turned into a large cloud. It just wasn't a Christmassy year. A car pulled past the intersection up ahead. Estelle paid it no mind, because there were thousands of black cars in Zaphias. She did, however, stop to pay attention when she saw who got out of the car.

Her heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was a coincidence. After all, there was no way Cumore could have followed her. Still, Estelle slowed down her pace when she saw Cumore round the vehicle. When he started walking down her road, she spun around. There was no way he just happened to have business on this same stretch of deserted road. She didn't want to run, because then he would start running too and he could likely outrun her. If she could just stay calm and walk at a brisk pace until she reached the other road, everything would be fine. There were people on that road, like the guy on his cellphone. She had no idea who he was, but he wasn't actively threatening her so she pegged her hopes on flagging him down for help. At the very least, he could call 911 on his phone. Her own phone was buried in her backpack, and she didn't have time to stop and dig it out before Cumore caught up with her.

Footsteps came closer and she quickened her pace. She was so close to the other street now. A glance over her shoulder showed how near Cumore had gotten, and she broke into a run. Her black school shoes were not the best for running and her backpack, full of textbooks, thumped against her back and slowed her down. Then the straps yanked backward as Cumore grabbed it and pulled.

Estelle gasped and slipped out of the straps, but not fast enough. A bony hand clenched around her bicep and pulled her back. Her heart drummed and she struggled to breathe through the panic. She tried to scream but it came out as a whimper.

Cumore yanked her back and shoved her against the corrugated metal of the industrial building. Even the freezing metal wasn't colder than the look in Cumore's eyes. She had thought she knew exactly what this man wanted from her, but she didn't see lust in those eyes. Nothing but an emotionless determination bore into her as he locked his eyes on her and raised his hands to her throat.

His thumbs dug into her windpipe and Estelle gasped. Rational thinking flew out the window. She clawed at his hands, digging her fingernails in and struggled to overpower him. His cold iron grip dug into her neck and cut off all air. It was impossible to coordinate an escape with her mind in such panic, so her arms and legs flew at him in a wild rush. Her lungs starved for air and her mouth instinctively flapped to try to suck in oxygen. Nothing could get past his fingers, though, and her vision was already growing fuzzy. She smashed her head against the metal wall with a loud clang! Maybe that would alert someone! It was her only chance. She kicked again as her vision faded, but it was weaker this time. Her hands grasping at his arms barley jarred him now.

Please… it can't end like this…

Her eyesight tunnelled. The hands just squeezed tighter and tighter until it felt like he would pop her head right off. She thought she heard footsteps pattering on the cement, but it might just be her imagination.

Then something happened that she knew was a dying hallucination. Through the fog of looming unconsciousness, something glowed. Golden light fell from the sky and she could have sworn she saw a person silhouetted against the light. Then the fog grew dark and she slipped into blackness.

"Hey," came a soft voice. A gentle hand rubbed the side of her head. "Can you hear me?"

Estelle blinked. Everything was still blurry, but she saw a lot of navy blue and a smidgen of red. Her eyesight cleared and the red solidified into a band around a brimmed cap. The blue was a navy jacket, as well as hair. It wasn't the pastel blue of Cumore, though, but a dark indigo. "I'm…" she coughed and put her hand to her aching throat. "F-fine." She had never been so happy to see a police officer. "Where…?" Talking hurt, so she tried to keep her questions down. That was a problem, because she had a lot of questions.

The woman kneeling in front of her was obviously a cop, but the two men standing behind her were obviously not. One of them had long black hair and a leather jacket and seemed vaguely familiar. Cellphone guy! He wore loose jeans and carried what looked like a metal baton over his shoulder. Next to him was a young man with golden hair, wearing khaki pants and a plain white t-shirt. Despite the freezing temperature, he wasn't shivering at all.

"We've arrested the man who attacked you," the police officer said. "My partner just took him to our car." She held out her hand and smiled sweetly. "I'm Constable Judith Hermes, but you can call me Judy."

Estelle loosely took her hand and shook it in a daze. Judy didn't seem to be too much older than her, with dark eyes and a friendly smile. She was some form of East Asian, though Estelle was in far too much shock to guess exactly what country.

"Yuri," Judy looked over her shoulder, "call an ambulance. She's hurt pretty badly."

"No," Estelle managed to get out and sat up. Her throat hurt, but it was only a bruise. An ambulance would mean a trip to the hospital, and who knew how long the doctors would want to keep her? She hated hospitals, and she was already desperate to get home. "I'm fine," she forced out to prove that she was. Her voice was scratchy, but understandable.

"Ya don't sound fine," said a new voice. Another police officer strolled toward them. This was an older man with brown skin and dark hair. He grinned when he reached them. "Constable Raven Altosk, nice ta meet'cha. You sure you don't wanna go ta the hospital, darlin'?"

"I'm sure."

Raven shrugged. "Well, we can't force the lady."

Estelle turned her eyes on the two men standing back. "Um… who are they?"

Judy smiled and gestured at the dark-haired one. "That's Yuri Lowell, a good friend of mine. He's the one who saved your life."

Yuri nodded. "I heard a scuffle and checked it out. Lucky for you, I happened to be on the phone with Judy at the time. She and Raven hot-footed it over here as soon as I tipped them off."

"And then you beat a man half to death with a music stand." The blond man crossed his arms and stood apart from the others.

Yuri smirked. "Yes, there was that. You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It does seem particularly violent."

"Oh, give me a break. You were going to stab the guy."

"I wasn't going to beat him with a blunt instrument, and I'm not a civilian! I was doing my job, you were playing Catman!"

Yuri smacked his forhead. "For the last time, Flynn, it's Batman! You are so out of touch! And no, I'm not trying to be Batman. I saw someone in need and I helped. It's as simple as that." He noticed Estelle watching them in confusion and added, "Sorry. This," he jerked his thumb, "is Flynn. He's an old friend of mine. He helped, too."

"I… see." She really didn't. Yuri was a good Samaritan with an iron pole - that baton in has hand was a collapsed music stand, she realized - but Flynn was apparently not a civilian. "Are you…" she paused to cough and painfully swallow, "a cop?"

Yuri snorted while Flynn smiled soothingly. "Something like that."

"What's your name?" Judy asked, still kneeling on the cold ground beside her.

"Estelle Heurassein."

"And how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Ok. I'm going to need to talk to you to get a complete statement for my report, but you sound like your voice could use a bit of a rest."

Estelle nodded gratefully.

"Can you meet with me sometime tomorrow? I could pick you up around lunch."

She nodded. "That's-" cough - "fine."

"Sure, I can do that. I see what school you go to from your shirt, so I'll look it up on Google Maps. Here," she held out a cellphone, "can you type in your number? I'll text you tomorrow to confirm."

Estelle nodded and keyed her number into the blank space. The rest of the contact information had already been filled out, and she wasn't sure how she felt about her name being listed as 'Estelle (strangled wit)'.

"Do you live far from here?"

"Couple blocks."

"I'll drive you," Yuri said.

"I can escort you," Flynn immediately offered.

Yuri elbowed him. "You don't have a car, stupid."

Flynn's face fell. "Well…"

Estelle gave him a hesitant look. Supposedly he'd saved her life, but supposedly he was also a weirdo who carried a music stand around and used it to beat people up. After Cumore, the idea of getting in a car with a weird stranger seemed particularly unappealing.

Judy saw her trepidation and said, "I can't give you a ride because your attacker is in the back of the car and there's nowhere else for you to sit. But, I can personally vouch for Yuri." She pulled out her badge. "See this? The city of Zaphias has officially trusted me to protect its citizens, and there is no one I would feel safer leaving you with than Yuri. Come hell or high water, he will get you home safely."

Judy, at least, seemed trustworthy. As weird as Yuri was, it would be better to get a ride home than to spend the rest of her walk jumping at every shadow, and after all, he had saved her. "Ok," she whispered.

Judy gave her a hand and helped her to her feet. "I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

Estelle nodded, barely. Anything else hurt her neck.

Judy and Raven walked toward the squad car parked just down the street, and then Yuri said, "I'm parked the other way."

"I'll come with you," Flynn said, falling into step beside them.

Yuri rolled his eyes. "You're not needed. I have this under control."

"I'm going to follow my orders."

"Fine, be that way, but Estelle gets shotgun."

Estelle was more confused about Flynn than almost anything else this evening. Yuri was just a weirdo with a music stand and a hero complex, and Cumore was a homicidal maniac, but she didn't know what to make of Flynn. He didn't seem to be cold even though his arms were exposed and the temperature hovered just below zero, and he spoke about orders and doing his job. He wasn't a cop, but 'something like that'. A special kind of cop? But why wasn't he in a uniform? And just what had been that weird glow she'd seen just before passing out?

Yuri's car was parked just around the corner. There was a pub down the street that he'd probably been heading to when he heard the commotion. The car itself was beige - mostly. There were parts that were grey, and around the wheels it was decidedly rusty brown. He unlocked it manually and then leaned across from the driver's seat to unlock the passenger side door. Estelle reached for the handle herself, but Yuri jumped out and jogged around the car to get the door for her. Estelle set her backpack on the floor and sat on a seat much squishier than it was supposed to be.

Flynn sat in the middle seat behind them, and then the car jolted to life. Yuri kept one hand on the clutch, easily manoeuvring the bucket of bolts down the vacant streets.

"Yuri, you're going too fast," Flynn said from the back.

"I am not, now shut it."

"I just saw a speed limit sign!"

"Going five kilometres over the speed limit isn't going to hurt anyone."

"I can't believe your best friend is a police officer with that kind of attitude."

"And I can't believe you - oh, wait, never mind, I can totally believe you're an obnoxious stick in the mud."

"I am not a stick in the mud."

Yuri leaned over to Estelle and loudly whispered, "That's what all sticks in the mud say."

"Just because I followed my duty and didn't betray everyone, I'm a stick in the mud?"

Yuri's grip on the wheel tightened at the mention of betrayal, but he kept his voice light. "Yeah, pretty much."

Estelle wasn't following any of this. She'd obviously been drawn into an old feud and would rather get home and relax after this terrifying night. "Turn here," she rasped. After going a few minutes without talking, her voice was getting hoarse again. It was only a couple more turns before they pulled up in front of her building.

"Would you like me to walk you to your door?" Flynn offered.

"No, thanks, I got it." She glanced at front of the car for the time, but Yuri's car didn't have a clock. It must be nearing nine at least, and her stomach rumbled. Usually a small dinner during her break was enough to tide her over, but ever since Cumore entered the shop, she'd been ravenous.

"I hope your parents aren't too worried about you coming home so late," Yuri said.

"Oh, um, it'll be fine." She hopped out of the car and hesitated before closing the door. "Thank you very much for helping me."

"It was my pleasure," Yuri grinned.

"I am always happy to assist," Flynn said. "Please take care."

Estelle closed the door, waved, and hurried into her building. After the frightening night, the brightly lit lobby was a comfort. She pressed the button for the elevator and took a deep breath (or, as deep a breath as she could manage through her sore, swollen throat). Everything about Cumore had been so strange. This clearly wasn't an average case of random street crime. He'd scoped her out first, and she was sure now that he'd been checking the security cameras in the shop. If they hadn't been there, would he have assaulted her right there? If he had, Yuri wouldn't have heard her in trouble and he wouldn't have been able to contact Judy and Raven… she shuddered to think what might have happened. Although, how had Flynn known to show up? She thought about the bright flash of light again, and how it had looked like a person silhouetted in front of two huge swaths of golden light. Almost like… wings. That was, of course, ridiculous, and probably a hallucination brought on by her dying brain starving for oxygen.

The elevator binged and the doors slid open. She had almost reached her floor when she suddenly realized her back felt empty. She'd left her backpack in Yuri's car! She groaned in frustration and trudged off the elevator and into her hallway. Her phone had been in there, too, so she couldn't even call him to bring it back. Well, at least she had already arranged to meet with Judy tomorrow. She'd ask her to get it back from Yuri, since they were apparently good friends. On her way to her apartment, Estelle tried not to feel guiltily happy that at least this meant she had an excuse to skip her calculus homework.

Estelle unlocked the door to her apartment and then hung her coat in the front closet. "I'm home, Mom," she said softly as she walked into the living room. The portrait on the sideboard smiled back. She was hungry, but first she sank into the couch. After a few minutes of resting, she realized her hands were still trembling. She grabbed a pillow and squeezed it against her chest as she stretched across the cushions. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to ordinary girls like her. It was like something out of a crime novel, except usually the young woman in those situations turned up as the case to be solved. The fact that she had very nearly been a mystery corpse for the police to find made her chest tighten. If Yuri hadn't been walking just around the corner….

Estelle squeezed the pillow tighter and buried her face in it. Her apartment had never felt so empty. I really wish you were here, Mom.