There was nothing for it but to follow in the newcomer's wake and hope to warn Jonathan before what felt like an inevitable onslaught, but Blake was waiting inside the doorway as if he already knew. He joined Gethin the moment he stepped across the threshold, just as Kushiel reached the middle of the room and began to look around.

'I think he's looking for me,' Blake said softly from Gethin's side, his voice somehow carrying through the music and background noise. 'Gethin, that's Yuri's Higher...'

The stranger briefly raised haughty brows and the strangely exclusive pool of silence fell around them once again.

'Uriel, his name is Uriel, the one whose work has constantly been interrupted by one not fit to...'

'Sorry about that,' Blake said, sliding his arm through Gethin's as if to draw him aside. 'Geth, never mind this, you need to find your friend Jeff...'

'Jonathan Blake, I heard talk that you were displaying your wings, not for the first time, how dare you contravene all our rules? And why does this human wear a facsimile...?'

'His wings are out because some bastard bloody angels hurt them,' Gethin said, wanting to pull out of Jonathan's grip so he could face this... this... this interfering bastard, how, how could this be an angel? but needing to hold tight to his cariad. 'But they're disguised, and it's a costume party. I think I'm allowed to wear whatever the fuck I like in my own home, not that it's any of your business, but my wings are honouring his.' He looked up into Blake's face. 'Listen, my Jay, I need you, need your help, do you hear me, Blake? Here. Always. '

'I hear you.'

'Hurt? What tale is this...? Don't be ridiculous, what can you know about any of this?'

'Yuri came up to us in the street,' Gethin said with dangerous softness. 'My friend Jonathan had nothing to do with it, and for that his wings were ripped so that he couldn't furl, deliberately, to get him into trouble, and now you come here, looking to blame him...?'

'No matter. Uriel! Where is Uriel...?'

'Gethin,' Jonathan spoke low and urgent into his ear. 'You need to interrupt Jeff, now, this minute...'

'Why? What's he doing?'

The bubble of silence broke as Kushiel moved away from them and outside noise flowed freely once more. From further inside the flat Kushiel's voice rose above the noise of the music.

'Uriel Skystar, I see you there, what in the names of all the Seven Heavens do you think you're doing?'

'What is Yuri doing?' Gethin asked.

'Jeff, and making a very thorough job of it, there'll be wings all over the living room if they don't ease off; I tried to tell you...'
In the corner of the room, causing the wicker peacock chair to creak and protest under the dual weight, Jeff had lost his sheepskin coat and was sitting on Yuri's lap being profoundly kissed. Any lingering guilt Gethin might have felt about the youngster faded; it seemed he had quite happily moved on. That Yuri had heard the voice of his Higher was apparent only by the economically abusive gesture he made with the first two fingers of his right hand; every other part of him was intent on kissing and cuddling the young blond on his lap.

'Uriel, will you stop that and pay attention...'

Holding up his free hand to signal waiting, Yuri ended the kiss with obvious reluctance and gave Jeff a little squeeze.

'That's my boss, I'm afraid, well, my former boss... it might all get a little sweary, why don't you go and find yourself a drink – but not a shepherd, my pretty little agnus dei, or I'll have you shorn by morning...'

Jeff slithered off Yuri's lap with a giggle and a flirt and paused as he sashayed past Gethin to pause and lay a happy hand on his arm.

'You do have the loveliest friends!' he said. 'Pontius the Pilot can fly me anytime...'

Yuri and Kushiel were talking now, voices almost silent, swift and rife with gesticulation, and Gethin, just relieved that Blake was no longer the target for Kushiel's wrath, thought it better to keep out of it. He looked up at Jonathan, saw an anxious cast lingering in his eyes.

'Come on, my Jay. Find you a gin? No point worrying, is there? I'm sure Yuri can keep his boss busy for a bit...' Gethin slid his arm around Jonathan's waist, under his wings, to pull in against him. 'Might even let Roscoe make you some toast, if you like.'

'Now, that's my kind of G&T,' Blake said with a ghost of his usual smile, allowing himself to be led into the kitchen where Roscoe was still serving.

'You go off for a bit, relax, talk to people,' Gethin said. 'Thanks for your help, though.'

'Rel...? Have you seen who's out there? Do you know who that is...?'

'I sort of gathered...'

'Michael! Raphael, where are you?'

Gethin stared as Mikey, Rafe slinking behind him, approached.

'Rafe,' he said, surging with a sense of betrayal he couldn't quite explain. 'Rafe, listen – do what you can for Jonathan? Human asking, here.'

Rafe lilted his mouth in half a smile.

'I would anyway,' he said.

'There you are, Gethin!' Josie came up, slightly tipsy, pink cheeked and smiling and getting in the way of his view of Kushiel. 'I didn't tell you, did I, how much I like your Christmas tree? It made me think back to the night Craig and I were decorating ours, only a few weeks ago, and so much has changed. Thank you.'

She reached out impulsively and swathed Jonathan in a hug.

'You don't mind a thank you cuddle, do you? Only things are so much better now... without Craig's dad...' Releasing the angel, she shrugged up her shoulders. 'I suppose I should mind, after all, we've been married twenty years, near enough, but... you think you know someone... and then, suddenly, there was this stranger saying horrible things about my little boy, my baby... it's not going to be easy...' She faltered and a shadow darkened her face for a moment. 'No, but it's going to be better. Happier. No hiding for my Craig, no need to. Because he's still my baby, still my little boy, even now.'

In the background, Craig rolled his eyes. Gethin grinned.

'I'm glad it's working out for you...' lifting his voice a little, 'I'm glad Jonathan was able to help.'

'You too, of course. I was saying to that lovely blond lad we arrived with, what would have happened but for you and your boyfriend helping my Craig... what you've got to realise, I didn't know anything about... this, nobody I knew, well not that I knew I knew, so it's all very... anyway, my Craig's safe. That's all that matters.'

Gethin poured Jonathan a large gin; he looked as if he needed it.

'Keep him here,' he told Roscoe, nodding towards Blake. 'I want to know what's going on.'

He eased out of the kitchen to lounge against the door and try to listen in on the conversation taking place across the room.

'You've heard, I hope?' Yuri was saying to his erstwhile Higher. 'How they value him? How their thoughts sing, Jonathan helped, Jonathan stepped in, Jonathan saved me... And it is about them, is it not? What we think of the instruments is irrelevant. And you wonder why I left, after the stunt Lucius and Decian pulled?'

'Isolated incident...'

'Read the room,' Rafe said. 'If listening to the stories is not enough, hear behind them, hear the silences, the alternatives that are not voiced.'

'None of which takes away from the fact that Blake's wings are being publicly displayed – flaunted – in a room full of humans...'

'But nobody cares,' Mikey said. 'Nor can you call doing all in his power to hide his plumage flaunting...'

With a sudden lithe movement he pulled the shirt off over his head and rolled his shoulders. The area around him filled with feathers, gold, red, bronze and Gethin barely had time to register this when his view was partially blocked by suddenly visible white wings, huge and glossy, almost filling the room and barely avoiding the light fittings.

'Now, this,' Rafe said. 'This is flaunting.'

He looked over his shoulder towards Gethin and grinned, shivering his wings into place and, well, perhaps white wings weren't boring after all, not when they were displayed in support of Jonathan.

Blake's were still the best, though.

Suddenly it was as if the room came awake from a sudden sleep, noise restored, conversations flowing, and now, only now it seemed, people began to notice Rafe and Mikey's transformation. Abruptly cornered behind the archangels by approaching and admiring guests, Kushiel's response was lost in the sudden convergence of people and rise of voices. As the choristers crowded around to comment on design and realism, Yuri sidled from the room unbuttoning his shirt, to reappear a couple of moments later bare-chested and with a pair of creamy wings folded at his back, and Gethin was treated to the sight of Jeff launching himself at the archangel with a squeal of glee.

'Oh, look at you! That's better than your other costume... can I have a little stroke..? And I don't just mean the feathery bits...'

Yuri grinned and put his arm around Jeff's shoulders.

'Sounds like a plan... I think there's a spare room somewhere...'

('You see?' Jonathan muttered, emerging from the kitchen. 'Totally up for it. But that's archangels for you... Well, it might just be Yuri, I suppose...')

'Is that okay?' Gethin asked. 'I mean...'

'Oh, yes, the rules about not hurting humans extend to interacting intimately with them, I'm sure...' Blake fell awkwardly silent for a moment, and when he continued, his voice was diffident. 'I say, Gethin? You... you don't mind, do you? About Jeff, I mean...'

'Daft thing,' Gethin said, recognising insecurity in Blake's hesitance. 'Wouldn't want him hurt at all, but very happy to see him busy elsewhere. Anyway...' He cleared his throat. 'I've got you, I love you, or didn't you realise yet? Oh, God, I didn't mean to say it like that. Oh, fuck, what did I just say...?'

Blake hugged him tight.

'I don't know, I don't care, I'm still hearing you say you love me...'

'I might have... said the 'G' word...'

'Oh. Well, never mind, let's face it, the worse that could happen already has, with him showing up...' He nodded in Kushiel's direction. 'Who'd have thought it, though? Two, no three archangels, standing up for me?' His arms tightened around Gethin again. 'And you saying... saying that... Can I...? Could I kiss you, that is, I...'

'It's your bloody party, of course you can kiss me. If you like.'

Perhaps it wasn't one of the most passionate kisses they'd shared, but it was sweet and heartfelt and somehow romantic, first kiss after confessing... of course, Jonathan hadn't said, but that didn't matter...

'Didn't I?' The angel frowning after the kiss ended, his hands resting on Gethin's hips. 'Thought I had, maybe just implied it... but I do, you. You know. Love. You.'

'Pleased to hear it. Now, if we can just get rid of this bloody gatecrasher, we can enjoy ourselves...'

Steph came up, her face puzzled.

'Gethin,' she began. 'There's someone downstairs says he wants a word; I asked him in but he said he'd wait for you, posh sort of bloke. Looks like someone's dad. Nice, though. Don't think he's a shouty neighbour or anything...'

'Okay, I'll go and see.' Gethin eased out of Jonathan's touch. 'Keep an eye on my boyfriend for me, will you? Make sure you keep singing his praises, if anyone asks...'

'Already done that, the blokes in the angel costumes...'

Downstairs, through the party guests starting to spill out now, clustering in the hall and on the landing, to the street door and there, waiting with urbane patience, Jonathan's patron.

'Or Roscoe's organ-grinder, if you prefer. How are you, Gethin?'

'I'm... better now I have Jonathan in my life. Would you like to come in?'

'Thank you; I intended a visit in a few days but then I heard about certain developments...'

'He's okay, sir, Jonathan, he's just a bit sore...'

'Wait; what do you mean?'

'I thought you... when you said...'

'That he's been seen, shall we say, in all his splendour? Love your interpretation, by the way...'

'Oh, thanks. Jonathan made them for me... don't blame him, will you? It's really not his fault, he was... well. Come up. Do you know someone called Kushiel, by any chance?'

'Ah. Yes, I do, in fact, and that rather explains some of the unsettled energies... good evening,' Blake's mentor said, passing between two choral ladies. 'Ah, yes...'

'What would you like to drink?' Gethin asked. 'Bar's through here...'

'Later, thank you, dear soul. It seems I have a jurisdictional matter to sort out first... and whatever are the archangels up to tonight...?'

'Wouldn't like to say about Yuri, sir. But Rafe and Mikey... moral support for my Jonathan.'

'Our Jonathan; he is under my wing, so to speak... You'll forgive me if I suggest you mingle with your guests while I speak to our friend?'

'I left him in the kitchen with Roscoe...'

'Kitchen. Thank you.'

Trying not to mingle in the direction of the kitchen but to leave Blake's mentor to it, Gethin deliberately made his way back out onto the landing where he remembered seeing the two similarly-dressed men Jonathan had pointed out as the gerbil-minders.

'What's your Jonny story?' one of them, ah... Ray, asked.

'Sorry?'

'Jonathan. Story. Everyone seems to have one...'

'Us, it was because of him we started a new career,' Reggie said. 'Rodent Rescue.'

'We take in hamsters and gerbils that people don't want any more...'

'Guinea pigs, too...'

Gethin repressed a shudder. Guinea pigs? It was an eye-watering thought...

'My Jonathan story, right... um... customer friend found him somewhere, brought him to the shop. Next thing I knew he was chatting to the customers and...' He shrugged. 'He's part of the place now. Part of my life, he's had a lot to learn...'

'Oh, tell us about it!' Reggie laughed. 'The questions he asked...'

'Not exactly tactful,' Ray shrugged. 'It's how you learn, though, I suppose.'

'Glad you could come tonight.'

'Yeah. Thanks. And, you know, didn't realise the shop was even here...'

'Ah, fairly new venture...'

Talking about the shop, and the back room meetings, and the notice board, kept Gethin busy for a good few minutes but didn't completely stop him from wondering and worrying. But finding himself almost pushed aside as Kushiel exited in a frown of shadowy fury, down the stairs and out with a slam of the street door, he breathed a sigh of relief.

'What was up with him?' Ray muttered.

'Gatecrasher. You two okay for drinks? Need a top up?'

'Er... yes. Thanks...'

Jonathan's mentor was talking quietly and softly to him in one corner, Rafe and Mikey part of the conversation, occasionally gesturing, speaking, but Gethin kept his attention on self-appointed task, leading Ray and Reggie towards the kitchen and its makeshift bar.

He took over from a wide-eyed Roscoe and found them drinks. Ray nodded thanks and the two wandered off, leaving Gethin alone with the angel.

'You all right Roscoe?'

'Did you see? No, you didn't, you weren't here, well, he went up to him, to Kushiel, and said something, and Rafe and Mikey spoke up, and then there was this...well, our Higher, he sort of... of loomed and Rafe and Mikey shrugged and turned away from Kushiel, and knelt to our chap – changed allegiance, that's sort of like, they quit, and so he – Kushiel – left...'

'Barged past me on his way out, good riddance.' Gethin helped himself to a drink. 'So... since everyone else has... why don't you get your wings out, join the fun?'

'Oh, don't!' Roscoe said with a shudder. 'So far nobody's noticed me yet; I think I'd like to keep it that way!'

'You could never be overlooked, Roscoe!' Blake's mentor, Higher, whoever, smiled from the doorway. 'No matter. Keep doing the things you do with honest intent and you won't go far wrong... Gethin, you suggested Uriel is here too...?'

'Yes, but... he found a friend and...'

'Of course he did!' The Higher smiled. 'Typical... they're not all like him, I'm glad to say, we would never get anything done... Well, Gethin, I've had the whole story now, I think... and while I have no jurisdiction over those who injured Jonathan, nor does Kushiel have jurisdiction over our friend... I have reminded him of the fact, Rafe and Mikey have decided they would rather work for me than him, and... I understand Yuri is currently without a Higher... not that I am entirely sure he would be an asset... But that is for another day, you promised me a drink, if you remember?' He smiled. 'Roscoe will help me; go to your friend; I think he needs a little reassurance...'

Blake had found a perch on the arm of the sofa, his wings making it difficult for him to sit on it properly. The seat was empty, however, and Gethin eased himself into it and slid an arm across Blake's lap.

'Hi, Jay.'

'Hi, yourself.' Blake smiled, tremulous. 'Well, that was... scary.'

'Still, you're safe now.'

'Yes.' Jonathan leaned in to put an arm round Gethin's shoulders. 'And you said you love me.'

'And you nearly said it back.'

'Oh.' Jonathan leaned closer still and pressed a chaste kiss to Gethin's temple. 'I say, Gethin ...?'

'Yes, Jonathan?'

'I love you.'

'Pleased to hear it. Love you, too, my Jay.'

'Jonathan!' Mike, the Northerner, waving from across the room. 'Get over here will you, settle something for us...?'

'I won't be long,' Jonathan said.

He jumped up and bounded across the room like a puppy towards the summons. A great, big, golden puppy with wings, true, but...

Silence rippling out from around Gethin and he found Jonathan's Higher slipping into the seat next to him.

'Look at him, after everything, running up to see if he can help...'

'Like a young Golden Labrador, all paws and curious.' Gethin voiced his thought.

'A nice analogy. You know I said we'd see how he got on, that I'd review his performance, as it were, at epiphany?'

'Yes, but listen, please, he's just a puppy, a big, soft angel puppy, and you can't... they say, a dog, it's not just for Christmas, it's for life... you mustn't...'

'See how happy he is, how easy with them? He's doing so well now, he could go anywhere, do anything... I could find him a coveted place in a phalanx tomorrow, if he wanted it...'

'I... Oh. If it's what he wants...' Gethin's voice dropped to a whisper. You can't, he wanted to say. You can't bring us together and then smash us apart, not now, not after everything... 'But... he can come back here, right? On his days off?'

'It seems a coveted phalanx placement is no longer what he wants,' the Higher said. 'I already offered it to him; his answer was succinct: "Must I?"... and of course, no, not if he doesn't want to...'

Gethin only realised as he exhaled that he'd been holding his breath. And that he was shaking.

'He wants to be here, with you, he said. Which is fine, yes, we can arrange that; he will need a job, of course, he can't just be wandering around randomly... I'll return to talk career vectors with him at some point... he will continue to get his odd hunches and feelings and behave with apparent randomness...'

'It's part of his charm, really.'

'You understand though, do you? You'll be responsible for his care here, for keeping him safe from the onslaught of human impressions; they might threaten to overwhelm him, sometimes...'

'I can do that.'

'Yes... although you must realise... and I think you do, but I have to say it so that there's no doubt... how did you put it? Jonathan Blake, your Christmas angel – it cannot be just for Christmas, it really is for life...'

Gethin squared his shoulders and got to his feet.

'Let's hope I live a very long time then, shall we?' he said.

He went over to his not-just-for-Christmas angel, put his arms about him and reached up to kiss his cheek.

'Not just for Christmas, forever,' he said. 'If that's all right with you, cariad.'

'That sounds perfectly fine to me, Gethin... I say, Gethin...?'

And now he did sigh, felt he'd earned to right to pretend to be less patient than he was...

'Yes, Jonathan...?'

'You know the tree in the hall...? Could that be not just for Christmas too, do you think...?'

'No, Jonathan,' Gethin said, making his voice stern even though his face was smiling so much it hurt. 'Not the tree. The angel, yes, we can find somewhere for him, but the tree? No.'

'Oh, well, worth a try, I suppose... but as long as you can make space for an angel in your life...'

'Only if you're that angel. And as long as you realise – this – us – you and me – we're not just for Christmas either.'