John shifted and his head came off his desk. Only the jerk of his body saved him from a painful impact with the edge . He snorted himself awake, blinking rapidly to clear sleep from his eyes.

The details of the case spread about him, one of them stuck to his hand. John sorted the papers back in order, shuffling them them back into their folder to try and bring a semblance of order to the chaos. Squinting at the clock he groaned and stood, gathering all the loose papers to his briefcase before closing it with a familiar and almost comforting snap.

Leaving his study, his footsteps muffled over the hardwood of his flat and he left the briefcase near the door to be ready for his departure in a few minutes. As he stood up John paused, sounds from the kitchen drawing his attention. John walked slowly to the doorway, jaw dropping at the sight of Eve sorting the contents of his refrigerator.

She smiled at him, continuing her work, "You'd be surprised exactly what you can make with the contents of your fridge. Not much but something."

"What are you doing here?"

Eve stood up, carton of eggs in one hand and milk in the other, "Breakfast. So you don't starve and die."

"That milk's gone off."

She took a whiff, grimacing and then gagging, "You're right, that's putrid." Dumping the soured milk down the sink she rinsed the space before tossing the carton in the rubbish, "Well there goes pancakes as an option."

"Why are you digging through my refrigerator to make me food?"

"Because I'm your Guardian Angel and it's come to my attention," Eve was back in the fridge, digging around in the bottom until she found something else, "That you need a lot more hands-on care than I originally anticipated and will you just slide the rubbish bin over here?"

John pushed the bin toward her and Eve took her whole arm to tumble a mess of items into the bin. Within a moment the fridge was starkly bare, "That's better. Fresh start."

"Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself?"

"Ha," Eve thought about the eggs and then tossed them into the bin as well, "I'm an angel, I don't need food."

"Really?"

"It's part of the process. Food's not necessary for my existence anymore though I never say no to a good chocolate cake if I'm being totally honest." She pointed at him, "I know fashion's not your forte or anything but do I really need to tell you that you're wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday?"

John shook his head, "I fell asleep at my desk."

Eve took a seat, crossing her arms and putting one leg over the other and John immediately felt that he was under scrutiny in an interview. "So you work all day and then come home, eat something- probably from a take away carton- before falling asleep while working more?"

John refused to answer, turning on his tap to get cold water into a glass before checking if he had any tea bags to boil. The cupboards were all but bare and he sighed, closing the door. "Shouldn't you know that since you're my Guardian Angel?"

"Technically, yes, but when I'm here I can't exactly be omnipresent. I actually can't be omnipresent at all but since I'm actually on the same plane as you now there are things I don't know as readily anymore. Information I can't just access at a whim. That presence of mind is under development but right now I need to be in the moment for the person who needs me at the moment."

"Do you?"

"It's paramount to the success of my job." Eve nodded, "And that person is you, in case I was too vague."

"I'm thrilled." John swirled the water in the glass, "Too busy down here to stay on top of things?"

"I've got a line to some others who could help me out but they're busy and why ask them when I can ask you?"

"There're more of you?" John rubbed a hand over his face before drinking the cold water down. "All just helping people find happiness?"

"What do you think people do when they die? Play racquetball?"

"How should I know, I've never died." John took a seat at the table, "You mentioned that you got sent here because of some higher power, that's all I've got."

"It's true. It was a direct commission and I don't usually get many of those."

"What kind of commission?"

Eve shrugged, "You're British, you're familiar with A Christmas Carol right?"

"Of course I am."

"Think of this like that… except instead of an old business partner I'm here because a few people prayed really hard and a very loving individual saw fit in His infinite mercy to send me exclusively to you." Eve pointed at him at the end of her statement, "It's a big thing Mr. Bates."

"Weren't you busy with something else?"

"Never too busy to answer a direct order from the Man himself." Eve smiled to herself before looking a bit contemplative, "I do tend to worry about a few people at once. But we all manage. The nature of being an angel is that there aren't as many of us as you'd like to think who can actually do this job."

John leaned over the table, "Oh, and why's that?"

"Without getting too technical into a branch of religion you know nothing about, there are a few requirements for angelic apparition. For a regular message, like Mr. Marley to Mr. Scrooge, that could be anyone. Before they were born or after they died because they just need a sense of corporeal form, not the genuine article. People like myself, on the other hand, need to interact with the physical world." Eve rapped her knuckles gently on John's head, "Like so. Not many people get that privilege and it's a huge responsibility."

"So if I cock it all up for you…?"

Eve frowned, "I don't understand what you're implying."

John pointed to himself, "If I ruin all this what happens to you?"

"Why would something happen to me?"

"Isn't there a consequence if you fail?"

"No. Every man is an agent unto himself and therefore will be judged accordingly." Eve laughed a little, "This isn't a test for me to get my wings or anything if that's what's you're worried about."

"You've seen It's a Wonderful Life?"

"Of course I have. I love Jimmy Stewart." Eve slapped the tabletop, "But you need to shower and change. Get me all your clothes for the cleaners and I'll get breakfast for us on the way back."

"Ms. Eve…"

"My name's just Eve. If you're being technically accurate it's Christmas Eve but I find it long winded. It's God given as a name but I prefer Eve. Makes it all a little less awkward at parties."

John stopped a moment, shook his head, and addressed her again, "As kind as I think you're trying to be, you're wasting your time and you should just go and help someone who's not me."

"Someone not hopelessly miserable is that it?"

John threw up his hands, "Why not? Good a description as any."

Eve chuckled, "Because, Mr. Bates, I respond to a higher power. He ordered me here and so you can't get rid of me."

"I can't?"

"There are ways you could but I doubt you'd want to walk that particular path, even for as low as you feel about yourself."

"What if I say I don't want you around?" John stood, holding up his hands, "What would you do then?"

"I'd say that's a lie, because I can tell, and that at the end of the day I'm not here for you."

John blinked, "What?"

"I'm not here for you." Eve enunciated each word, "Clear?"

"No," John shook his head, 'Why bother coming to me if you're not here for me? That makes no sense."

Eve stood, supporting her weight with her arms on the table, "It does if you realize that it's not all about you."

"It isn't?"

Eve snorted, "No, it's not. Despite how far you wedged your head up your own ass, you'd never ask for help on your own so a lot of people asked for you."

"I ask for help."

"No, you don't. Do you know why?" John shook his head slowly, "You don't ask for help because you've believed your whole life that you bring every miserable thing on yourself, not matter how big a lie that was."

"I don't-"

Eve moved so fast John could not stop her. Her palm stuck to his forehead and she grabbed the back of his neck. In a flash John was in the tiny flat in London's east side and Eve was beside him.

He looked across the room and saw a man about his height with a bottle in his fist. A crying boy huddled in the corner while the man took another swig from the bottle before throwing just above the boy's head. It smashed on the wall and the boy covered his head to protect himself from the falling pieces. John flinched and he looked to see Eve stand there.

Pointing to the boy John hissed at her, "Aren't you going to help him?"

"I can't help him." Eve turned to John, "You have to."

"What?"

"Don't you recognize the room?"

John took another turn around the flat and noted the pictures on the mantle. The cracked one tipped over and balancing a small red ball on top of it. He swiveled back to see the man grab the boy and slap him once before removing his belt. John flinched at the snap of the leather and watched the boy tearfully turn toward the wall, dropping his trousers.

The strike of leather on skin had John covering his eyes a moment before he lunged for the man. Just as he was about to grab the swinging man John was tipping over the chair behind him, stumbling to his feet. John grabbed for his chest, breathing hard and leaning on the wall as the snap of leather still rang in his ears.

Eve stepped back, folding her arms, "You believed him. Each and every time, you believed him."

John pointed at her with a shaking finger, "You could've stopped him."

"As I said, every man has their agency. When someone chooses not to listen to the better angels of their nature, though it pains us to our core, we can't interfere. To do so would break the highest law of Heaven."

"But you're here now, interfering."

"This isn't interference because you still have your choice."

"It wasn't my choice to bring you here." John almost spat, "You're interfering on my choice to have you gone now."

"But remember, I'm not here for you." Eve walked around the table to stand in front of John. He batted at her but she stepped back to avoid the misaimed swipe. "I'm here because people on either side of that thin veil separating life from death prayed for me to help you."

"What?"

Eve huffed, "You must really like that word."

"Who prayed for you to come to me?"

"Technically they prayed for you and if I gave out names that would be telling. Prayers are private."

"Who sent you?"

Eve raised her hands, "All questions today."

"I want answers."

"I can tell." Eve sniffed, "But get used to disappointment because I'm not answering. You're just deflecting instead of looking inward. All the answers are there if you want to find them."

John growled, kicking the chair, "You're frustrating."

"You're not the first to say so and that's why I'm your Guardian Angel." Eve folded her arms as John paced the kitchen, "I'm here because people who love you prayed that you'd find happiness."

"Who'd care about my happiness?"

"A lot of people if you'd let them." Eve sighed, "At the end of the day I'm the instrument of their faith and not much more. However, the saddest truth in all this, I've a limited span with you before I've got to give over to God's greatest gift to mankind… after His Son of course."

"What gift?"

"Agency. Free will." Eve shrugged, "I've mentioned it a few times. Please keep up because we'll get nowhere if I'm repeating everything."

"I want you gone." John was still breathing hard, trying to get the sound of his childhood tears out of his ears. "I want you to leave me alone."

"Not until I've given everything I have to achieving the directive given me." Eve straighten her blouse in her skirt, "You could wait me out and spend the rest of your life wallowing in self-imposed misery. But I doubt you want that."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I think you're more of a Saul." Eve pushed off the wall, "Stop kicking the pricks Mr. Bates. It's your choice but I wouldn't want to break the hearts of those good soul soaking their pillows at night praying you actually decide to change."

"Soaking their pillows?"

"There's been a lot of tears shed for you," Eve grabbed her coat, working her arms into the sleeves, "I think we should do something to stop that. If not for yourself, why not do it for them?"

She left the flat and John slumped to the floor in the kitchen. He buried his palms in his eyes but could only focus on the memory Eve opened in his mind.

It had been an accident. He hadn't intended to bounce the ball so hard. He knew he wasn't supposed to bounce it in the house but he thought it wouldn't be a problem against the wall. But he had thrown it a tad too hard.

The ball had flown across the room and crashed into the picture. It cracked the glass and before he could retrieve it the door to the kitchen flew open, banging off the wall. His father, roused by the noise from his drunken stupor on the table, swayed toward him with the bottle still in his fist.

Even cowering in the corner, crying, he knew he could only wait. A few years ago he might have soiled himself in fear but he was stronger now. Wetting his trousers would only mean more straps. He ducked as the bottle hurtled toward his head, shattering above him to rain the brown glass down into his hair and clothes and his arms shielding his head.

"Get up!" The growl wafted toward him, the whiskey strong even from a distance as he worked his way up the wall to stand. Glass shards tinkled to the floor as they fell from his clothes and when he slipped a little he felt shards bury themselves in his bare feet. The man grabbed him, a large hand slapping across his face to leave his cheek red and throbbing.

"Show me your ass boy!"

He sniveled, the tears running new paths down his cheeks as snot dribbled from his nose. His fingers fumbled at his own belt when the snap of his father's made him flinch. He dropped his trousers as he turned, cutting his feet open on the glass and digging pieces further into his feet.

The first strike was the hardest of them all. With his father unsteady on his feet it was all he could do to even hit his target. Some of the slaps of the belt struck his back or legs. All left him sobbing harder but only a few left real welts.

What hurt more were the words he felt sting him, slung on whiskey-tainted breath. "You're always causing trouble. Everything is your fault. How could I raise such a useless son? You're bringing this on yourself. If only you'd learn your lesson. Grow up. Stop crying. Be a man."

Eventually his father teetered to one of the chairs and slumped into it, the belt dropping from his grip. He lifted his trousers, buckling them back in place and stepping gingerly over the glass on the floor. Smears of blood spread over the floor as he went to the kitchen to find a cloth.

With his feet bleeding he gathered the glass into the bin, washing his way backward over the floor to the sound of his father's snores in the chair. All the glass was off the floor, the blood cleaned, and he had a pair of tweezers to pick out the bits of glass when his mother came through the door. She took one look at his feet and grabbed for a frying pan.

He huddled in the corner of the kitchen, crying anew at the sound of shouting and yelling from the next room, picking the glass from his feet. There was a slamming door and John's mother returned to the kitchen. The frying pan shook in her hand before she put it in the sink. Her arms shook where they held the counter a moment before she turned back to him.

"It'll be alright Johnny." She tried to smile but he could see the bruise forming on her cheek, her shirt and hair disheveled, and the tears in her eyes. "We'll be alright, you'll see. We'll make do. You and me. We'll be fine."

John looked up as Eve reentered the flat. She teetered a minute, shutting the door with her foot, and brought the groceries into the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, she saw John on the floor, and then set the bags on the table.

Kneeling down she took his face in her hands, "He was wrong."

"He left that day. I drove him from the house."

"No, he drove himself from the house and you know what I say to that?" Eve waited but John had no answer for her, "Good riddance to bad rubbish. Dickhead."

"We were always one step from destitute after that. My mother worked herself to the bone because I forced my father from our home." John wiped at the tears in his eyes, "I gave my mother more grief."

"You made your mother strong." Eve grabbed his shoulders, "Do you know how many times she lay in bed at night, while your dad was out drinking or looking for prostitutes, just praying for the courage to leave him?"

John shook his head and Eve answered, "I do because I've met your mother and I was there then. I saw what she endured day in and day out because she thought only of you. But, at the end of the day, when she came home to see you picking glass out of your feet she realized it had to end."

"She gave up safety for me."

"And?" Eve smiled, "She was never happier than when she was with you and you made her so proud. When you came home in your army uniform she was so pleased. And when you became prosecutor for the Crown she was full to the brim with untamable joy. She'd go around your neighborhood talking to everyone about how incredible her son was."

"I failed her."

"You made mistakes, like we all do." Eve stroked a hand over John's cheek, "She died proud of you Mr. Bates. Never forget that."

Eve stood up, "Now, you need to shower, I need to make you food and put the rest away, and then we need to go bring justice to the world." She extended her hand, "Are we in this together Mr. Bates?"

John looked up at her hand, "I don't know if I can do it."

Eve paused then licked her lips, "Do you know the carol The Holly and the Ivy?" John nodded, "It's an older one. Not sung as much unless it's a choir performance and they gave all the solos to Silent Night and O Holy Night but it's interesting because it doesn't really talk about the ivy. You get all these descriptions of the holly and how it's components relate to Christmas but nothing about the ivy."

"I just remember a lot of references to a deer."

"That too," Eve pointed at him, "But notice the ivy only appears in the first and last verse but it's there the whole time."

"And?"

"You think you caused your mother all this pain and torment because you only focus on the negatives. You forget the ivy of your experiences, all those happy times because there were some. Maybe not as many and maybe they didn't loom as large but they were there." Eve opened her hand to him again, "Let's find that ivy Mr. Bates."

John nodded and took her hand.