VI

The Christmas Miracle





Angel stood uncertainly at the edge of a steep precipice. All around him sharp daggers of ice blocked out what little sky he could see through the raging blizzard. Beside him stood the Shadow whose cloak fluttered in the wind. He didn't know whether he was more jealous of the cloak or the twin 45's that gleamed in the man's hands. Even though they were magically protected from the worst of the storm's fury, enough of the chilling wind seeped through to make him not want to stay out in it any more than he needed to.

"Where now?" he asked the crime fighter.

"Ahead," the Shadow answered.

"I guess you haven't noticed that there's a steep drop off there."

"That is only an illusion."

"Right," Angel said doubtfully. "You wouldn't mind leading the way, would you?"

"Not at all." The Shadow passed him and without hesitation stepped off the cliff. He did not fall. In Angel's eyes he appeared to the standing in thin air.

"How the hell did you do that?" Angel asked in amazement.

"It is all an illusion. You only have to see through it," the Shadow said as he returned to Angel's side. "Let me open your eyes," he said, placing a hand on Angel's shoulder.

Suddenly the storm stopped and Angel found himself on a broad snow covered plain. Ahead of them was the unbelievable sight of a small town of steeply roofed cottages surrounding a large building that was a fanciful concoction of golden onion domes and glistening glass. A candy-striped pole bore a sign that said, North Pole. Angel gaped open mouthed in disbelief at the Shadow who without another word led the way.

The tiny village was unexpectedly silent. Beneath softly glowing street lamps along the side of the snow covered road were parked gaily painted sleighs, but all the little houses were dark. A few of them even had their windows shuttered and doors barred. Angel spied a small, pointed-eared head peek out of a gabled window before it was closed with protesting creak.

"What's going on?" Angel asked.

"Great evil," the Shadow answered.

Angel nodded toward the 45's the Shadow held in his gloved hands. "I guess you wouldn't consider letting me borrow one of those, would you?"

The Shadow stopped, shot Angel a quick look for a moment with a raised eyebrow, then continued walking.

Angel shrugged. "I guess that's a no," he said more to himself than to his companion.

"Guns are not what you will need in your battle," the Shadow said.

"What will I need? I'd like to have an idea of what to expect."

"You have everything you need already," the Shadow replied. "You only have to realize it."

"Do you always talk in riddles?" Angel asked.

The Shadow turned to Angel without breaking stride. Angel could almost detect the faint glimmer of amusement in the man's green eyes. "Sometimes riddles are the more accurate answers."

"Thanks, for the enlightenment," Angel muttered.

"No problem,"was the Shadow's unasked for reply.

Connor shook his head trying to clear the grey fog that filled it. He could barely remember who he was never mind where he was or what had happened to him. All he could remember were the barest impressions. Angel, his father, New York City, Cordelia, Fred and Gunn. Gunn. For a moment a memory cleared. Gunn and the museum. And a strange little man. There was a battle. Then the memory disappeared leaving only intense emptiness. And cold. It was so cold. Never had he ever been so cold. It tore into his flesh and chilled him to the marrow of his bones.

"Get along," a voice intruded upon his confusion, "We do not have much time."

"Time? For what?" Connor managed to say. The effort it required just to formulate those simple questions was nearly beyond his abilities.

"You're a strong one," the voice came again, "but not strong enough. You need not be asking questions, boy. You just follow my orders. Just like I tell you. That's all required of you. No need to be thinking. I do the thinking, not you."

Connor forced himself to regard the voice's source. It was a little man, dressed in a strange red outfit. Something told him that he needed to resist, but he couldn't. It was too hard. The little man shoved him roughly, nearly throwing him off balance. A thin thread of anger flashed through him, but it faded before he could grasp it.

"It's dangerous here, boy. Very dangerous. You have an important job to do," the little man said, slyly deciding that bullying was the wrong tack to take with the young man. "We must not dally. Time's a wasting. You must not fail. The world's at stake, you know."

"Danger. World at stake," Connor echoed blindly.

"Aye, boy. Danger. The fate of the world rests on you. You must not fail. Look you there. Do you not see those guardians? You must destroy all four of them. You must not fail," the little man insisted.

Before them stood monstrous creatures dressed like soldiers in high red hats with shiny black bills, blue jackets and white pants. White bandoliers crossed their chests and in their hands where white bayoneted rifles. The creatures moved woodenly, barring their entrance to a palace of crystalline ice.

"Here," said the little man as he handed Connor a double-headed axe. "You must not allow them to stop us."

"Must not allow them to stop us," Connor echoed as he approached the gigantic figures. He swung the axe, slicing through the arms of one of the soldiers. The others immediately attacked, swinging their wooden rifles, trying to impale Connor upon their razor sharp bayonets. Connor dodged and leaped, nearly missing being struck by one, quickly rolling out of the way of another. He swung his axe, sending wooden splinters flying everywhere as he sliced through wooden legs, arms and anything else that he could reach. Then there were no more.

"You did well, boy," the little man said as he shoved a massive iron key through a lock into the thick wooden door before them. "There are more tests before you. More before we reach our final goal."

"Goal?" Connor echoed, managing to turn it into a question, feeling somehow that he needed to know something.

"Aye, our goal, boy. Let me worry about that. You have enough to worry about. Look about you."

All around them were more huge creatures. These resembled stuffed toys and rag dolls with red yarn hair. For a breath they seemed frozen, waiting for something. Then suddenly they all turned as one toward the pair. "There be work for you to do," the little man commanded, "but do it quickly. Time passes," he urged as a smiling rag doll lunged for him.

Connor swung the axe, shearing off one of the creature's arms, sending cotton stuffing flying around them like snow. More attacked, until Connor was immersed in stuffing, fragments of red yarn and brown mohair fur. He was starting to tire, swinging mechanically at anything that moved. The gigantic toys were slowing their attack, but did not retreat. Suddenly a small, stuttering biplane appeared overhead. It swooped over Connor, firing suction-cup tipped bullets at them. Harmless, they struck Connor in the head and about his body. The distraction was enough to give a large Teddy bear the chance to grab Connor in a furry embrace. He was helpless. His arms were pinned to his sides as the bear lifted him high up into the air. The bear's grasp slowly began to tighten. Far below him the little man impotently sliced and stabbed at the bear's legs with his candy cane sword.

Suddenly another little man appeared in the middle of the chaos, "What are you doing, Foxx Redd? Why are you and this stranger attacking us?"

Foxx Redd turned to the newcomer with a hiss. "No one would listen to me, Forrest Greene. Not even Santa. I warned you all what would happen if we let things keep on going on the way they have been going. Everyone has forgotten the true meaning of Christmas. All everyone thinks about is buying things. It's gotten insane. Christmas decorations are going up before Halloween. I told you it must be stopped. But did anyone listen to me? No! No one!"

"This is not the way!" Forrest Greene protested.

"There is no other way!" Foxx Redd screamed, lunging for Forrest Greene, impaling him with his sword.

Forrest Greene fell against the remnants of doll's arm. His blood stained the soft white fabric as he gasped out, "You were his right-hand elf."

As if its strings had been cut, the Teddy bear released its hold on Connor. It was a long way to fall, but the stuffing covered floor was soft as he rolled to break the impact of his fall. Suddenly he found himself staring into the shiny toes of a pair big black boots. He rose to his feet to face a tall, white-bearded man dressed in a long red dressing gown edged with white fur. Sky blue eyes regarded him with infinite sadness. "So this is the boy who would destroy Christmas?" the man said.

"Strike him," Foxx Redd screamed at Connor. "The time is near past. The deed must be done now!" He threw the dropped axe to Connor. "Do it quickly. They come. It must be done now!"

His mind finally clear of confusion, Connor regarded the little man and the axe that had landed at his feet. "No," he said.

"Boy, you will do as I say!" Foxx Redd screamed. "The deed must be done."

"Not by me!" Connor yelled back at him. "Not by me, not by anyone!"

"It is ended, Foxx," Santa said to the little man. "He sees the truth now."

"I will not have it!" Foxx screamed. In his hand appeared a snow globe, "You will be mine again!" he said throwing the globe at Connor.

Connor backhanded the globe away from him, but found instead the elf's blade buried into his belly.

"No!" Angel screamed seeing the elf pulling his sword out of Connor's body.

The Shadow's twin 45's spat fire, catching the evil elf, sending him flying across the room.

Santa knelt next to the stricken boy. He pressed a hand against the wound in Connor's stomach as he brushed a lock of brown hair out of the boy's face. Angel collapsed to his knees next to him, "Connor," he whispered.

"I can heal him," Santa said, "But only you can bring him back from where he journeys now."



____



At first Connor could not believe his eyes. He found himself in a room dominated by a tall Christmas tree decorated with lit candles and fragile glass ornaments. Gaily wrapped presents were piled beneath the tree. Set in a wall between two windows was a brick fireplace holding a fire that happily snapped and crackled. Tall brass candlesticks in the windows held white tapers that flickered brightly. Through the windows he could see large snowflakes floating against a blue-black night sky.

"Merry Christmas, Connor," said a beautiful blonde woman dressed in a long red satin gown.

Connor smiled and ran into her arms. "Mommy," he said happily. Then stopped, confused at the squeak of his voice. Then he looked down at himself. Instead of the body of an eighteen year old, he found himself in the body of a ten year old dressed in flannel pajamas. "How?"

Darla smiled, "Isn't this the Christmas you've always wanted?" she asked.

"Yes," Connor admitted. "But how?"

"This is the granting of your Christmas wish," Darla answered. She gave a present to Connor. "Open it up," she said.

Connor opened the present, rapidly tearing away the bright foil paper and satin ribbon. He pulled out a snow globe with a golden angel inside it. He turned it upside down then right side up. Glittering flakes floated around the angel. "How long?" he asked his mother.

"Forever," she said, "Or as long as you want."

Connor smiled, "Forever," he breathed.



____



"What do I need to do?" Angel asked Santa.

"The Shadow can show you the way," Santa replied.

"Shadow..." Angel said turning to the black cloaked crime-fighter.

"Tis the season," the Shadow responded placing his hand on Angel's shoulder, "Think of your Christmas wish," he instructed.



____



The first thing Angel saw was Darla sitting before a fireplace. She had on a full skirted red gown that was trimmed in white lace. Her long blonde hair caught up with a silver comb tumbled around her face and slender neck in large soft curls. It had been a very long time since she had seen her so beautiful.

Next he noticed was the young boy in her arms. Although he was only ten, he knew automatically that the boy was Connor. This was Connor's dream and as he looked around the cozy room with the Christmas tree, the soft hissing gas lamps, the sigh of snowfall outside, he realized it was also his dream. This might have been his life if he had not become a vampire.

"Darling," Darla said, rising to greet him, "I'm so glad to see that you've come home. Connor has been waiting all evening for you to return."

"Of course," Angel replied, "I'm sorry if I'm late."

"No problem, dear," she said as she stooped, then brought out a gift from under the tree. "Here is your gift," she said, handing it to him.

Angel opened the gift to find a ring inside it. The ring was of two hands holding a heart.

"I know you lost it some time ago and missed it. I hope you like it," she said.

Angel studied the ring for a few minutes, remembering the girl he had given a ring much like this one to. It would be so good to forget the past, to live only in this dream.



____





"What will happen if the boy dies while Angel is still within?" the Shadow asked Santa worriedly. Time was passing quickly and he could feel Connor's heart slow beneath his hand.

"Then Angel will never return to us. He will die with his son."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Nothing," Santa replied.

____



"Do you like it?" Darla asked.

"It's very nice," Angel replied.

Connor ran to him and he knelt to receive his hug. He gazed into the boy's innocent blue eyes "What do you think of all this, son?"

Connor the child looked back at him seriously. Angel could see the Connor of Quor-toth in his eyes. "It's very nice here," he said. "I have you and I have my mother. I've always wanted it like this."

"So have I," Angel admitted, "But we can't stay here.".

Connor shook his head. "I don't want to leave."

"You have to. We both have to."

Connor stomped his foot peevishly, "No! I don't want to. Ever!" He ran into Darla's arms. "Mommy! I want to stay with you!" he protested.

Darla looked at Angel. "Let him stay. I've been so lonely. I want him with me. I want you with me, too," she urged.

"We can't stay," Angel answered.

"No!" Darla protested, "Stay with me."

Angel grasped Darla by the shoulders, then tilted her chin up so that he could gaze into her eyes. She was so beautiful. Maybe if she had not become a vampire, if he had not. If fate had been different. If they had met in a different time and a different place... Tears glistened in her eyes. "We have to go. If we don't Connor will die. And so will I."

Darla pulled out of his grasp. Hugging herself, she said sadly, "I've been so lonely..."

"I know. So have I," Angel replied. "But you know what you must do."

"Mommy?" Connor demanded, pulling on Darla's skirts.

Darla knelt down and hugged Connor tightly. "You have to go, sweetheart."

"I don't want to."

"You have to, baby."

"I'm not a baby," Connor protested childishly.

"I know you aren't." Darla gently ran her fingers through Connor's fine hair, "I know you aren't a baby. You're a fine young man. Be brave for me and go with your father. That's where you belong."

"But..." Connor protested tearfully.

Tears falling freely down her cheeks, Darla rose to her feet and taking Connor's hand in hers, led him to Angel's side. She placed Connor's hand in Angel's. "Take good care of our son," she said.

"I will," Angel answered, "On my life, I promise I will."

"Connor," Darla said, "I'll always be with you. Look in your heart and I'll always be there."

"Are you ready?" Angel asked Connor.

Connor swept the tears from his eyes, then nodded sadly, "Yeah."

____





Angel found himself surrounded by the Shadow, Santa, and Santa's elves. "Connor!" he said looking down at his son in his arms.

Connor opened his eyes. There were tears in them. "Mom!" he cried like a lost child.

Angel hugged Connor, "It's okay. She'll always be in your heart." Angel placed his hand over Connor's wound. It was healed.

Santa nodded. "It's Christmas morning. It's time for the three of you to go home," he said with a twinkle in his eye.



In a blink of time Angel found himself and Connor back in New York City. The sun was shining brightly through the soft falling snow. It did not burn. Angel wrapped his arm around Connor who returned the favor. "How about we walk back? I'd like to get an idea of what the city looks like in the day."

"Sounds good to me," Connor replied.











As the plane flew into L.A. Cordelia breathed a sign of relief. "I never thought I would say it, but I am so glad to be going back home."

"Me too," Gunn replied. "Give me palm trees and sunny beaches any time. They can have that damn snow."

"Oh, Gunn," Fred said, giving Gunn's arm a squeeze, "It wasn't so bad."

"Hmph," Gunn groused. "I never thought we'd leave. It was a miracle that the storm cleared at the last moment."

"Speaking of miracles," Cordelia remarked, "I can't believe that we were able to get tickets back to L.A. on Christmas day."

"We could've stayed another day," Fred mentioned to Cordelia.

"No way," Cordelia said, "L.A.'s my city. I'd rather spend the rest of the week in my own home and in my own bed."

"Ditto," Gunn remarked.

"How about you?" Angel asked Connor, "Are you glad to be back in L.A.?"

Pulling his eyes away from the fascinating sight below of cars changing from toys to full size, Connor turned to Angel. "Yeah," he replied. "I'm glad to be back home too."

"Home?" Angel remarked.

Connor smiled. "Yeah, home." He nodded to himself. "Home," he repeated, "You know, I like that word." He gazed at Angel thoughtfully, "I'm sorry the miracle isn't going to last very long."

"Miracle?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, you know. You being able to be out in the daytime. I guess today's the only day."

Angel shrugged. "Having you safe, and well is the bigger miracle to me."





"Home sweet home," Cordelia said as she breezed into the hotel's lobby. Then she stopped cold awestruck. Sweet-smelling pine garlands were draped from pillar to pillar and in the middle of the room was a Christmas tree that nearly touched the high ceiling.

Lorne sat comfortably on an overstuffed chair with his feet up on a hassock, holding a cup of steaming apple cider. "Hi, folks. Back from the wars?" he asked.

"You might say that," Gunn replied. "You do all this?"

"No way, man. Decorating's not my thing." Lorne held up a card in his hand, "Let your big, brown eyes take a look at this, Angel sweetheart."

"Gimme," Angel said with a grin as he snatched the card out of Lorne's hand. One side of the business card was a present-filled sleigh. One the other in ornate cursive writing was S. Claus.

"Looks like you've made yourself some influential friends," Lorne remarked. "I have got to hear the story. But first..." Lorne waved his hand and music filled the lobby. "I'm in for some Christmas carols. What'd you like to hear first folks?" he asked, grabbing up a mike from his chair.

Lorne began to sing; Rocking around the Christmas tree, at the Christmas party hop. Mistletoe hung where you can see every couple tries to stop

Rocking around the Christmas tree, let the Christmas spirit ring. Later we'll have some pumpkin pie and we'll do some carolin



As he listened to Lorne sing, Angel reached under the Christmas tree for a small gift labeled To Connor from Angela. "Here," he said to Connor. "Why don't you open this. I'm kind of curious about what it could be."

"Sure," Connor replied as he began opening the box. Then he showed what was inside to Angel. It was a picture of Angel and Darla next to a Christmas tree. Grinning happily between them stood a ten year old Connor.

"Merry Christmas, Son," Angel said.

Connor looked up at the angel at the top of the Christmas tree. It had long blonde curls and a full skirted red dress. He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Dad," he said.