The wind was bitter as it whipped through southern California that early winter's night. The entire western half of the United States was locked in a cold snap that was predicted to last out the month of December and linger on into January. Certain areas were even optimistically predicting snow within the week, and millions of dreams of a white Christmas were filling the sleep of the people as they settled down under piles of comforters and blankets each night.

The cold seemed to be affecting one person in a rather strange way. He stood on a deserted street corner, watching the signs and awnings in front of darkened shop windows flutter and flap in the strong breeze. Though not physically disturbed by the temperature, the man hunched deeply into his faded brown leather jacket with a visible shudder. As though tempted by that small sign of discomfort, a particularly powerful gust blew up around him, stirring his long wavy brown hair into a cloud of motion and plucking at his clothes with icy fingers. The man raised his face into the gale, closing his eyes and flinging his open arms out to his sides, seemingly inviting the wind to do its worst. When it died back down again, he opened his eyes and dropped his arms, slumping dejectedly against the hood of the car parked behind him.

A shaft of light filled the street, bathing the lone figure in brightness as a door opened behind him. He turned, raising his eyebrows in mute question as another man, a big teddy bear of a fellow with gray whiskers, a light jacket and an Oakland A’s baseball cap, came bustling through the door and headed straight for him, chafing his arms briskly against the cold.

"Whoo-we! Boy it is colder than a polar bear’s nose out here! Hey, Jonathan, I got the room all squared away. Soon as we grab our stuff out of the car we can settle in and enjoy a whole week of well-deserved R & R." He hurried over to the trunk of the dilapidated gray sedan and popped the trunk, hauling out duffel bags and two plastic grocery sacks, seemingly unaware that his friend had neither moved nor responded. He went on enthusiastically. "Jeez, it sure was nice of The Boss to give us time off for Christmas, wasn’t it? Usually we’re so busy this time of year that we're giving competition to ol’ Saint Nick himself!" The blast of laughter that rang through the air at the mild joke came not from the still-silent Jonathan, but from his friend. Still shaking his head over his own clever observation, the bearded man shut the trunk with a slam and hurried back the way he had come.

Jonathan watched him go, seeming undecided as to whether he would follow.

The other man turned his head to speak again, only then realizing that he was walking by himself. "Hey, you growing roots or something? C'mon!"

Spurred into motion by the smiling invitation, Jonathan shoved his hands deeply into his pockets and shuffled slowly toward the open door.

~*~*~*~*~

The motel room was exactly the same as any one of a dozen such rooms the two men had stayed in over as many weeks in as many cities. The décor never seemed to change one iota from place to place. Same two beds, two chairs, kitchenette with fridge and stove, a desk, a closet and a television on a cheap metal stand. Even the wallpaper seemed no different. Always cheap and always ugly, with what looked like the same two or three watercolors of generic outdoor scenery tacked up to cover the bad spots in the paper. It was depressing to look at, even if a person was not already depressed to begin with as one of these men most certainly was.

"Got any plans, Mark?"

The question was quiet and not especially interested, but it was the first attempt at conversation Jonathan had made in over three hours. Hearing the words seemed to alert Mark to this very suddenly, for he gave a little start of surprise as he finished setting the bags down in the corner and turned to look at his friend, a faint line of worry instantly appearing between his eyebrows.

Jonathan had come into the room and walked straight over to one of the two beds, sitting, or rather plopping down upon it with an air of bone-deep weariness that was completely foreign to him. Mark walked over and took a seat next to him, placing a hand on one slumped shoulder. "Hey, are you all right?"

Shrugging off both the hand and the question, his eyes remaining fixed on his own loosely intertwined fingers, he hedged, "Why shouldn't I be?"

Mark frowned at the evasion. "That's what I'm trying to find out. I've never seen you like this, pal. For the last week or two you've been so withdrawn and, and," he paused, searching for the right term, "moody."

"Have I?" Jonathan asked disinterestedly.

"Yeah!" Mark burst, allowing a little of his frustration to show. "You speak to me when I ask you a question, but hardly at all otherwise, and you don't seem to be handling the assignments like you usually do, either."

A slight look of irritation flickered over Jonathan's face. "I haven't had any complaints, have I?"

"No, but you sure don't seem to be getting much enjoyment out of it," Mark told him bluntly. "You do your job, but you don't seem to care. About anything! I thought sure you'd perk up when you found out the Boss was giving us this week off, but you don't even seem happy about that. What is it? Is it me? Did I do something to upset you? Cause if that's it, then I can certainly come up with something else to do this week! I mean, you don't have to hit me over the head to make me see what's right in front of me, and…"

"Mark! I'm not mad at you." Jonathan's sharp tone cut his increasingly excitable companion off mid-word. The other man blinked, caught off guard as he realized that whatever was wrong, it had nothing to do with him. "I'm not mad and I don't need you to leave."

"Then why'd you ask if I had any plans?"

Jonathan shrugged, bending forward to rest his arms on his knees, so that he could look at the floor rather than his friend's face. "I just thought you might have some idea of what you wanted to do with your vacation," he muttered. "You’ve really been looking forward to having the holidays off."

"Well, sure I have," Mark agreed. "It’s been a long time since I had the chance to kick back and enjoy the season. Don’t forget though, pal, this isn’t my vacation, it’s ours. You did say that we weren't getting an assignment until after Christmas, didn’t you?"

He nodded, a hint of a scowl darkening his features.

Mark’s eyes narrowed. "Then why aren’t you happy? I mean, I don’t get it, Jonathan. Even angels deserve to take a break once in a while, don’t they? You’ve worked really hard this year, and for every other year since I’ve known you. This time you’re just getting a little reward from Him." He gestured sharply upward as he spoke. All he got in answer was a small derisive snort, so he waited, silently urging his friend to fill him in, and at last his patience was rewarded. Jonathan raised his eyes, but the sadness and the naked longing expressed in them shocked Mark to the core, making him instantly sorry to have pushed.

"A reward?" Bitterness and strain cracked through the angel’s voice as he spoke, matching the expression on his face. "Is that what you call this? The entire week of Christmas with all the time in the world, and absolutely nothing to fill it with except a few old memories?"

The sight and sound of him tore at his partner's heart. "I don’t understand. I figured you’d just overworked yourself and were counting down the days like I was. You usually seem to get such a kick out of the holidays and I…" Mark gestured helplessly, not knowing what to say, but sensing that now was not the time to pry any further. He again placed a hand on the other man's slumped shoulder and this time it was allowed to remain. "Is there anything I can do?"

The angel shook his head, unconsciously drawing his arms up around his ribs in a self-defensive gesture, as though he could physically pull back a hurt he had never intended to let show. "There’s nothing anyone can do," he whispered. When Mark continued to look at him with more sympathy than he felt he could withstand at the moment, Jonathan abruptly rose. With his back turned toward his friend, he removed his jacket and pitched it onto one of the chairs, taking a moment to compose his features into something resembling a smile as he briskly rumpled his thick mane of hair and turned back around. "Hey, I'm sorry. Guess I'm just in a bad mood tonight. Let's just forget it, okay? "

"You sure?" Mark asked gently.

He nodded and sat back down on the opposite bed. "Sure. Say, here's an idea. Why don’t you break out some of that hot chocolate you bought at the grocery store and I’ll have some with you. I’ll even turn on the t.v. and find one of those awful old movies you like so much.

Mark grunted, recognizing the all too obvious attempt to change the subject, but he went along willingly. "There must be something wrong for you to make an offer like that," he chided. "You gotta promise me you’re gonna drink that hot chocolate and not just hold it if I fix you some though. You know how I hate to waste a perfectly good pouch of processed chocolate powder."

With a slight but still genuine laugh, he nodded. "I’ll drink it, I promise."

For a minute or two, Jonathan simply watched his friend bustle around the tiny kitchenette, heating water and rummaging for cups, then he remembered his promise and switched on the television set, idly flipping through the channels in search of something halfway interesting. A series of commercials for products he neither needed nor wanted, late news broadcasts, and a rerun of a old sitcom were rapidly flicked past. Then he halted, attention captured by a black and white image of Loretta Young looking wistfully into a store window.

"Oh, this is a great one!" Mark enthused as he caught a glimpse. He handed a cup of lukewarm brown liquid to his friend and resumed his place on his own bed, stacking two pillows against the headboard and eagerly scrunching back against them. "You’ll like this one, Jonathan. It’s right up your alley."

Deliberately and rather self-consciously, Jonathan mimicked relaxation, settling back and swinging his legs up to rest in front of him on the mattress. He took a sip of the chocolate and swished it around in his mouth. He rarely ate or drank, having no physical need for such things, but it felt kind of nice just now to pretend. "This really isn't too bad," he commented.

Misunderstanding, Mark pointed at the television. "Wait'll you see the next part. I'm telling you, buddy, this is a classic!"

Smiling at the enthusiasm, he said, "It seems vaguely familiar to me, like I must have seen it before, but I can’t place this movie."

"It's called, The Bishop’s Wife," Mark told him. "Cary Grant is an angel who’s sent down to help a minister and his wife. The minister thinks that he’s been praying for a big cathedral on a hill, but what he really wants is to spend more time with his wife, just loving and being happy the way they used to."

"Now I remember," Jonathan said faintly. His improved mood dissipated in an instant and his voice suddenly sounded hoarse and filled with strain again. "I don’t want to watch this, Mark."

Surprised, the human demanded, "Why not? I’m telling you, Jonathan, it’s a great movie!"

Slamming his cup down with sudden ferocity, causing some of the liquid to slosh over the side onto the table between the two beds, he snapped, "I don’t care! I said I don’t want to see it and I mean it. You finish watching it if you want. I’m going out." Launching himself off the bed, Jonathan grabbed his jacket and pulled it on as he stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

Mark sat in stunned silence, mouth open as he wondered what could have caused the sudden burst of anger he had just seen. His enthusiasm for the film disappeared and he shut off the television with a defeated sigh.

~*~*~*~*~

Jonathan Smith walked. For the next hour and half he walked, not caring where he was going or how fast he got there, only filled with a need to move far enough to escape his own tumbling emotions. Finally, he found himself standing on a bridge, idly overlooking a slow cascade of late traffic. Waves of weariness such as he should not have been capable of feeling washed over him; a reaction to the turmoil in his troubled soul.

Raising his eyes to the stars, a tear slowly trickled down one cheek as he spoke into the quiet night. "What’s wrong with me? I had no reason to snap at Mark like that. He was only trying to help me and it was just a stupid movie." He brushed impatiently at the wetness on his face, but more tears slid down to join the first. "Why do I keep feeling like this? I don’t want to. I know it's not right, but I can’t seem to help myself."

The answering silence seemed to Jonathan to be heavy with condemnation. "Please, help me," he pleaded. "I'm not blaming you for the way I feel. I even understand why things have to be this way. It’s just…"

A shaky sigh finished the sentence for him. It was just so hard sometimes.

He continued to stand on the bridge for a long, long while, staring into the darkness and allowing his thoughts to drift and his tears to fall. Finally, even the emotion drifted away, leaving numb silence in his heart. With a soft sigh, Jonathan turned away and began slowly walking back toward the motel.

"I wish…" he whispered, then shook his head and left the rest unspoken.

~*~*~*~*~

Mark Gordon woke grudgingly, faintly aware that the room felt very cold. He didn’t want to get out of bed, and opened one eye to check the clock on the bedside table. 7:30am, it read. He smiled and burrowed his nose back into the covers. It was much too early to get up, especially since there was no place he had to be. A moment later, he opened both eyes and sat up, a frown creasing his brow as a strange fact registered in his sleep-clouded brain. Jonathan had come back some time during the night, but instead of standing and watching out the window, or lying back staring at the ceiling communing with his maker as he often did, he looked for all the world as if he were asleep.

Muttering, "Nah," Mark leaned closer to take a better look.

Jonathan's breathing was slow and steady, and a sound that was not quite a snore was coming from his slightly open mouth. As Mark watched, the still face resting atop one loosely fisted hand twitched, then frowned and the angel mumbled something too soft to make out as he shifted partway over onto his back, and settled down again. There was no doubt about it. Jonathan was sound asleep.

Much as he was dying to get to the bottom of the unusual sight, Mark felt very reluctant to disturb his peacefully slumbering friend. Instead, he edged away from the beds and gathered his things, sneaking into the bathroom for a quick shower. He was just about bursting to know what was going on by the time he emerged, and this time patience gave way to curiosity.

Almost afraid to touch him, Mark poked two fingers into his shoulder, then shook him a little more firmly when that failed to work. Beyond rolling away from the intrusion, Jonathan showed no sign of obliging his friend by waking up.

"I know what'll get you going," the human muttered. A tried and true method for getting most people out of bed in the morning was the scent of fresh coffee, bacon and eggs.

Pulling out the supplies he had placed in the small refrigerator the night before, Mark started cooking and sure enough, within just a few minutes his friend stirred and opened his eyes, blinking into the brightening light of the room in confusion.

"Good morning," Mark greeted cheerfully. "Have a nice sleep?"

Rubbing his eyes groggily, Jonathan sat up and yawned. "Sleep?"

Mark’s grin got bigger. "That’s sure what it looked like from here. I thought you didn’t do that kind of stuff."

"So did I." Jonathan frowned, stifling another yawn as he pulled his knees up and rested his chin on his arms. "I don’t understand what happened. The last thing I remember is walking back here thinking that I owed you an apology for the way I acted. Then a kind of dizzy feeling hit me and that's all until right now."

"Nothing else?" Mark asked in concern. "How about getting back here? Do you know what time it was or how you got here? Anything?"

Jonathan's face was troubled as he shook his head. "It's like I went from that moment straight to this one. What time did I get back?"

"I don’t know. I went to bed after you stormed out of here, and when I woke up you were here, asleep."

Both men started in surprise when Jonathan’s middle suddenly gave a noisy rumble. He pressed a hand to it, eyes going wide. "This can't be happening. First I'm sleeping and now I’m hungry? Mark, it's gone! He took away the Stuff."

"Why would the Boss want to take your powers away?" Mark sat down at the foot of his friend’s bed and fixed him with a penetrating stare. "You didn’t go and do something to make him mad at you after you left here last night, did you?"

A startled look filled Jonathan’s face as he shook his head in all too uncertain denial. It was obvious that he had not forgotten the last time he had been faced with sudden humanity.

It had been almost three years before. Jonathan’s wife Jane, from his mortal life as Arthur Thompson, had died. Jonathan had wanted to leave his angelic duties behind to spend eternity with his beloved but God had refused, ordering him to resume his work. Filled with anger and pain over what he viewed as undeserved cruelty, the angel had rebelled and as a result his powers had been stripped from him. He had driven Mark away, vowing to never speak to God again or to forgive him until allowed to be with Jane once again.

Almost immediately, his life had taken an unexpected turn when he had encountered a woman trying to commit suicide in the Pacific Ocean. Jonathan had saved both her life and her desire to live, and in return the woman, Jennifer, had taken the homeless wanderer into her home and heart. They had fallen in love, much to Jonathan’s dismay, for he had felt guilty for wanting to feel close to anyone but Jane. Eventually, the love had overcome the guilt and Jennifer had helped her fallen angel find his way back to God. Only later, after she had secretly arranged a reunion between he and Mark, did Jonathan learn the truth about his new love. Jane and Jennifer were one and the same person. His wife had been sent back to him in disguise to show him how much he was still needed on Earth. She had disappeared from his life again, leaving behind a note that promised they would someday be permitted to be together forever.

"Did you?" Mark pressed, bringing his friend back to the present.

"I don’t think so," Jonathan offered hesitantly, trying to recall if he had said or done anything worthy of punishment. "I talked to Him last night, said I was sorry for feeling so resentful, but I only asked for help to stop feeling the way I do. I don’t know why he chose to answer this way."

"Well, I’m no expert on God," Mark said, offering him a smile, "but maybe He’s decided to give you a full-on break from duty for a few days. A chance to sort of recharge your batteries and remember what human life is all about. What do you say we have some breakfast, get you ready to face the day and go see what this town has to offer? It might make you feel better."

Jonathan responded to the encouraging tone with small smile. He got out of bed, somewhat surprised to find himself fully dressed except for shoes, and made his way slowly over to the folding table Mark had set up between two chairs in the small kitchen area. Gratefully, he accepted an offered cup of coffee and sipped it, allowing the warmth of the liquid to dispel a little of the icy coldness filling his body. He still felt tired and depressed, but there was no reason to let it show if he could help it. The plate of food placed in front of him smelled inviting and he picked up a piece of bacon, nibbling it slowly.

"What’s the matter, you don’t like my cooking?" Mark asked, knocking his knuckles on the table get his friend’s attention.

Jonathan’s face grew flushed as he became aware that he had been staring at nothing for quite a while, still holding the bacon strip poised to his mouth though he was no longer eating it. Self-consciously, he popped the remainder in and chewed it. He looked down at the rapidly cooling eggs distastefully, but picked up his fork anyway and began to eat, commenting, "It’s funny how quickly you forget what it feels like to be hungry."

"I suppose," Mark said noncommittally, beginning on his own share of the meal. Finally, the silence became too much for him and he asked the question that had been on his lips all morning. "Jonathan, what’s got you so down? And don’t try to tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been like a like an animal in a trap for days now."

Jonathan laid his fork back down, what was left of his appetite disappearing in an instant. He debated whether or not to answer, but finally decided that he owed an explaination. "Did I ever tell you how much Jane loved this time of year?"

The human shook his head mutely. He was surprised to hear Jonathan say his wife's name, a name he had not willingly spoken in three years.

"It was her favorite holiday. Mine too, but Jane used to go all out with decorating and baking, singing carols door to door, and shopping and wrapping until the house looked like it had exploded in colored paper." He paused, studying the liquid in his coffee cup for several long seconds during which his best friend waited patiently. At last, in a voice so quiet he could barely be heard, he said, "Today would have been our fiftieth wedding anniversary."

Sadness filled Mark’s sympathetic brown eyes. "My God. Jonathan, why didn’t you say something? I would never have gone on and on about how great it is to have nothing to do over the holidays if I’d known." He groaned, recalling the moment his friend had blown up at him the previous evening. "Oh, what an idiot I am. Here you were tearing yourself apart missing your wife and I try to force you to watch a movie about an angel helping bring together a husband and wife at Christmastime! Jonathan, I am so sorry."

"It’s all right. You didn’t know. I should have said something before, but I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it." He pushed his chair back and stood, giving in to a sudden need to move. "Every year since you’ve known me, we’ve always been busy this time of year. We helped Santa Claus, we’ve reformed a couple of Scrooge types, we reunited a family, helped some homeless people, and maybe did some good we didn’t even know about. As long as I had something to keep busy with, it was easy to avoid thinking about how much I missed Jane."

"It’s been harder for you since she died, hasn’t it?"

Jonathan’s restless pacing came to a halt as he heard the question. "I-I suppose it has. It was easier when I knew she was still out there somewhere, celebrating like she always did with our daughter Mandy, or with friends. Now, I guess I can’t help thinking we should be celebrating together, and I know it isn’t possible." Tears he had been stubbornly holding inside began to fall. "Am I very selfish for wanting to be with her when there’s still so much for me to do down here, Mark?"

"No, pal. I don’t think you’re being selfish at all. I wish you could be together, even if it’s only for a few days, until after Christmas." Mark rose and gave his partner a hug, knowing without having to ask that Jonathan badly needed some kind of physical reassurance that he wasn’t completely alone today.

"A wish," Jonathan choked. He pulled out of the embrace, and actually managed a ghost of a laugh. "I started to make a wish last night, and look where I am this morning."

"You still feel up to going out for a while?" Mark could tell his friend needed a little time to compose himself, so he wasn’t surprised when Jonathan nodded and disappeared to get ready without another word. As soon as he was gone, the human lifted his eyes to the ceiling and asked, "Did you have to do this to him now? Boss, if I’ve managed to rack up any credit with you, could you do me a little favor? Just see that Jonathan has a merry Christmas, okay? I think he could really use one."

~*~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, Jonathan was feeling just a little better as he zipped up his jacket and walked outside with Mark. Strange how a person forgot all the small pleasures of life, like steaming hot showers, when they spent all their time worrying about the bigger problems. He had made up his mind. Mark was trying hard to cheer him up and get him into more of a holiday mood, so he would just go along with whatever his friend suggested and see how things went.

The streets were quiet as the two made their slow progression through the city. School was out for the week and it was still early for most people to be out and about. A few stores had their shades up and Open signs out to greet potential customers, and here and there signs reading ‘Christmas Sale-50% off!’ could be seen. Clouds were gathering thickly overhead and the temperature was cold enough to make the previous evening’s weather feel balmy and pleasant. Jonathan shivered and hunched his shoulders when the wind picked up and swirled around him. He knew most of the feeling of cold was coming from the wind chill, but knowing it and enduring it were two different things. Gritting his teeth, he ducked his head against the onslaught, wondering if this walk had been such a good idea. So far, he wasn’t getting cheered up at all and he was so cold he could barely think straight.

Mark shivered and turned his collar up. "Sheesh, that wind really packs a wallop!" He blinked; pulling his head back sharply as his face was touched by sudden dampness. He looked up and grinned hugely when he saw what it was. "Hey, Jonathan, look! It’s starting to snow! I thought those weather guys were just making it up when they predicted snow, but it’s really coming down."

Jonathan smiled. His friend reminded him of a little kid with his nose pressed to the glass, looking for signs of Santa Claus. The snow certainly was beautiful as it fell in great feathers to the frozen ground, sticking wherever it landed and before they had gone two blocks it was accumulating fast enough to fill in their tracks as soon as they were made. "This reminds me of Christmases when I was a kid," he commented. "I used to go visit my grandparents and it always snowed. I could never quite get used to not having snow for Christmas when I grew up and moved out here."

"That sounds really nice," Mark agreed, smiling and giving a subtle thumbs-up to the clouds, just in case anyone up there might be watching. This was just what they needed. "Hey, look over there. That tree lot is open. You want to go take a look?"

Jonathan gave him a puzzled glance. "What for? We don’t have anywhere to set up a Christmas tree."

"I know that, but let’s do it anyway. I’ll pick my favorite and you pick yours. C’mon, it’ll be fun!"

He grinned. It sounded silly, but maybe that was all for the best. "Whatever you say."

The tree lot’s only occupant was a bearded salesman in an enormous parka. His eyes lit up when he saw them coming but Mark waved him off, explaining, "We’re just looking." The man looked disappointed, but accepting. They browsed around the lot for several minutes, then Mark struck a pose next to a tall Noble fir and said. "I’d pick this one."

"How come?" Jonathan asked, distastefully eyeing the rather threadbare tree, whose branches ended about two feet higher than they should.

Mark gestured to the roomy base. "Are you kidding? Think of how many presents you could fit underneath this baby!"

In spite of himself, Jonathan laughed. "I see you have the true meaning of the season firmly in mind." He pointed to a Douglas fir a few feet away. "I like this one better. Imagine how many lights and decorations you could fit on it."

His face was wistful as he spoke and Mark gently asked, "Did you and Jane used to get this kind of tree to decorate?"

He nodded, lightly fingering the supple branches, then he met Mark’s eyes a little guiltily. "Sorry. I know I’m supposed to be out here to concentrate on something else and forget about my troubles but I don’t seem to be doing a very good job."

Mark’s smile was filled with understanding. "Don’t worry about it. You talk about her all you want."

The angel hesitated, then explained, "Picking out a Christmas tree was supposed to be my job. Every year, I'd go out and find one that I liked, then I'd bring it home and Jane would always say it wasn’t big enough. So we’d wind up getting a second tree, one that barely fit through the door and brushed the ceiling when it was standing upright. One in the living room and the smaller one in the entry. We’d spend a whole evening decorating them together. And after Amanda was born, I used to hold her up and help her put ornaments on the branches."

"And did you put an angel on the top?" Mark asked slyly.

A grin tugged at the corner of Jonathan’s mouth. "Yes, but it wasn’t anybody I know." The wind began to howl again suddenly, causing the snow to swirl and blow straight into their faces. "Mark, I think maybe we’d better head back."

Mark had been thinking the same thing himself. The snow was accumulating at an alarming rate and impossible as it seemed, it almost looked as though it might turn into a small blizzard. He hunkered deeper into his coat but when he looked at his companion his eyes widened in alarm. Usually he was the one complaining about the weather, but at least he was used to variations in temperature and climate. Jonathan, normally unaffected by the elements, was shaking, his teeth clenched tight to keep them from chattering. That lightweight leather jacket of his couldn’t be much protection and he didn’t have a hat or gloves. His hair was full of snow and Mark could almost see his lips turning blue. "I think you’re right. Let’s go."

They turned back the way they had come, but somehow nothing looked familiar in the blowing storm. All the store windows had gone dark and for every step forward, the wind seemed to knock them two steps back. An instinctive thread of fear began to form in Jonathan’s gut as the storm increased in ferocity. "We’ve got to find some shelter!" he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the gale.

"Look, over there!" Mark shouted back. "I can see lights. Looks like a church or something!"

They headed for it, both nearly falling a couple of times before they made their destination. Mark wrenched open the door and the two men fell inside, gasping for breath and blinking in the sudden darkness and stillness inside. Music was playing somewhere and a beautiful display of candles lit the entire space but there were no people anywhere.

"Thanks," Jonathan huffed, shooting a grateful look heavenward. As he became more aware of his surroundings, a peculiar expression crossed his face, as though he was trying to remember something that was just barely eluding him. Then his eyes went wide and all the air puffed out of his lungs as recognition dawned.

Beside him, Mark was vigorously stamping his feet and flapping his arms to get rid of the snow on his clothes and restore some circulation, but he stopped when Jonathan laid a forbearing hand on his arm. "What’s the matter? Jeez, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!"

"I know this place," Jonathan breathed. "But it shouldn’t be here. It can’t be here!"

"Jonathan?" Mark had to shake him to get his attention. "What’s going on? Where are we?"

The shock was wearing off and an expression of wonder was taking its place as Jonathan pulled away and wandered up the aisle. He stopped at a pew and took a seat, leaning sideways along the bench as he searched the worn wooden back of the seat in front of him. A laugh that could only be described as giddy rang through the quiet church as he found what he was looking for. He gestured excitedly for Mark. "Come take a look at this!"

Mark rushed over and looked, but all he saw was a few scratches crudely forming the letters A.J.T. "So? Looks like some kid was carving on the woodwork."

Jonathan laughed again. "And I’m the kid!"

"What?"

"This place, Mark! I grew up attending this church. I carved those initials with the pocketknife my father bought me for my 10^th birthday. You wouldn’t believe the licking I got for doing it either! I was just lucky that I had a week before I had to sit on these hard old benches again. " He jumped up, his voice filled with excitement. "This building has an anteroom that they used to hold bazaars, and choir rehearsals, and all kinds of community events at, and this…" He jogged up towards the pulpit and stopped, both his voice and expression softening tenderly as he said, "This is where Jane and I got married. Fifty years, I just can’t believe it."

"It doesn’t seem that long, does it?"

Both men jumped as they heard a woman's voice and realized they were no longer alone. Jonathan spun around, backpedaled, and stumbled, landing hard on his backside on the polished wooden floor. His mouth hung open in dumb shock, then the woman smiled at him and he gasped, "Jane!"

"Hello, Arthur," she laughed. "Still known for your grace under pressure, I see!" She held out her hands to help him up and Jonathan reached for them tentatively, unsure what would happen. Her hands felt warm and soft and reassuringly solid as she pulled him to his feet.

"I gotta sit down," Mark muttered, groping his way over to an empty pew, unable to believe what he had just seen. When the woman had first appeared, she had looked like the old woman Mark had met almost five years earlier, but as soon as she had touched Jonathan, her appearance had flickered. For a brief second, she became the woman he remembered as Jennifer, then her appearance settled back into Jane, but a far younger Jane. More amazing to Mark was that the same thing had happened to his best friend. He had changed for an instant, becoming a young man with straight blonde hair and a squared off jaw, then he looked normal again. Only his eyes had remained unchanged. Jonathan and Arthur, for that must be who the young man was, had the same frankly emotive green eyes. He considered saying something but as he watched the mesmerized awe in his friend’s face as he brushed his fingers over the woman’s cheek, awe that quickly turned to joy as the angel embraced his beloved and held her close, Mark smiled and decided to leave his questions for later.

"Oh, Arthur, I’ve missed you," Jane said, tears sliding down her face as she held her husband in her arms. She laughed and pulled back a bit to look into his eyes, brushing her fingers through the shaggy brown locks tumbling over his forehead. "Maybe I shouldn’t call you by that name any more, though. You’ve spent nearly two thirds of your existence as Jonathan and I must admit I’ve gotten kind of used to you this way."

"Me too," he said with a short laugh. He just couldn’t get enough of looking at her and he grasped her hand lightly, holding it to his cheek when she started to pull away. "I don’t know how it is that you're here, but I’m so glad you are."

"So am I." She hesitated a bit, then said, "This isn't forever, you know. He still needs you down here, but we have been given a little time."

Jonathan frowned a bit. "Jane, how is this possible? I know what you're saying is true, I can feel it, but I thought I’d never see you again until my work was through."

She kissed him lightly, then again as though unable to resist. "Think of it as an official leave of duty for Christmas. Someone wished you could go home for the holidays, and after all, even angels deserve a break now and then." She looked over at Mark and raised an eyebrow. "Isn’t that right?"

Mark was delighted. "You mean the Boss heard me?"

She smiled. "Of course. You made a totally unselfish wish out of love for another, Mark. He heard."

Jonathan’s face reflected his surprise as he turned to his friend. "That’s right. You wished this morning that I could spend Christmas with Jane. I forgot about that."

"I never expected him to actually do it!" Mark marveled. "This is fantastic. Probably the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten, and it isn't even for me!"

"I was told to give you a message," Jane told him. "I didn’t understand it, but maybe you will. I was supposed to tell you, 'Your credit is always good here.’ Does that make sense?"

Mark’s cheerful laugh rang through the church, echoing off the walls like great bells. "How about that?"

Jonathan approached the other man slowly. "I don’t know how to thank you for this, my friend. I just don't know what to say."

He shrugged, rubbing his face to hide the emotion welling up in his eyes. "Well, I do. Happy Anniversary! Now why don’t you two get out of here before you have me bawling all over the place?"

With a laugh, Jonathan quickly embraced his partner, then crossed back to his wife's side, wrapping one arm around her waist.

"We’re going to spend Christmas in a very special place," Jane confided. She smiled at Mark. "You’re very welcome to come with us, if you'd like. We’d be happy to have you."

"Aw, come on," he scoffed. "You two kids have a lot of catching up to do. You don’t need me along playing fifth wheel. I’d just be in the way."

"You wouldn’t, Mark," Jonathan said seriously. "I don’t know where we’re going yet, but please come."

Jane agreed with her husband. "You should. There’s plenty of room and you’re part of the family."

"Okay, okay," Mark protested, actually enormously pleased that they sincerely wanted him along. "I can’t argue with both of you. I’ll come, but if you ever start feeling like I’m in the way don’t be afraid to say so. I'll understand, believe me!"

Jane held out a hand to each of them, her eyes lighting eagerly. "Let’s go."

She drew them to a door hidden to the side of the homey little church and pulled them through. Instantly, they found themselves standing in the living room of the home Jane and Arthur Thompson had shared in their brief married life together, the same house which Jane had continued living in until her death. It was decorated from top to bottom in beautiful wreaths, decorations and holiday knick-knacks. A huge tree stood in the corner; decorations laid out to one side, waiting to be put on.

Jonathan walked slowly around the room, eyes shining as he took it all in, his smile growing brighter and happier with every memory he encountered. At last, his gaze lit on a sprig of mistletoe hanging from a doorway and he grinned at his wife, drawing her near. "I love you, Jane Thompson," he said, the words disappearing into a deeply passionate kiss.

After waiting a while to see if they would show signs of coming up for air, Mark cleared his throat noisily. The couple broke apart and smiled sheepishly, both having utterly forgotten his existence. Mark chuckled. "You still sure you want me hanging around here? Looks like you’re going to be a little too busy for entertaining any guests." His teasing grin got wider when Jonathan blushed. "I’d be happy to leave you alone."

Jonathan looked as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to protest or not, but Jane gave Mark a beautiful smile and asked, "How would you feel about decorating the Christmas tree?"

"Can’t think of anything I’d rather do," he answered, eyes twinkling. "And where are you going to be while I’m doing it?"

His all too innocent question was met with a shy grin from Jonathan and a laugh from Jane. She took her husband’s hand and began backing toward the staircase. "Getting my husband out of his wet clothes, of course."

They disappeared from sight, running up the stairs laughing like two children. Mark chuckled, brushing a hand over his jacket as he looked around the room. The moment he had entered this house, his own clothes had become dry as a bone.

~*~*~*~*~

Quite some time later, Jane and Jonathan returned, still holding hands. The matching expressions of quiet contentment upon their faces brought a smile to Mark's. He gestured toward the Christmas tree. "What do you think of my handiwork?"

The tall tree was ablaze with colored lights and a few ornaments had been hung here and there, but it was obvious that Mark had been taking his time, for most of the decorations were still in their boxes.

"I see you saved some for us to do," Jonathan observed, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze in passing. He and Jane began removing ornaments from the boxes and one in particular caught his eye. "Oh, wow. I haven’t seen this in…well, since our last Christmas together."

The ornament he had chosen was a small, rather crudely formed candle wax lamb, with painted on eyes and collar. It was plain and not nearly as grand or beautiful as some of the other things in the box, but it was clearly something special to the man who held it carefully in his hands.

"Where did it come from?" Mark asked, curious to know why the little lamb held such obvious sentiment.

Jonathan lovingly stroked a finger over the ornament. "It belonged to my grandfather when he was a little boy. He gave it to me when I was about four or five and made me promise I’d always take good care of it. I was going to pass it on to my daughter when I felt she was old enough, but I never had the chance."

Jane wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, looking around his shoulder at the precious keepsake. "Mandy loved that lamb when she was a little girl. I told her you’d wanted her to have it, but she refused to take it with her when she eventually left home. Said it was your special ornament and she’d rather remember you holding her up to put it on our tree than ever see it anywhere else."

"She’s a good girl," Jonathan’s voice was husky. "You did a good job raising her."

"Thank you," Jane said. "I admit that I sometimes had my doubts about whether I was doing the right thing with her. I know you could have handled her better sometimes. She’s so much like you. Outgoing, sweet, and willing to stand up for others, and just as stubborn and rebellious as you always were when she doesn’t get her own way."

Jonathan smiled at the comparison. "That explains it then. You always knew how to get around me when you had to. I imagine it was the same with Mandy." He sighed a little and hung the wax lamb up on a bough. "If only you knew how badly I wanted to tell both of you who I was when Mark and I came to help you a few years ago."

"I do know," she told him, turning him around to face her. "I think I may have known even then, though I wouldn’t let myself believe it, no matter how much you reminded me of Arthur. You wanted to tell me just as badly as I wanted to tell you that I wasn’t really Jennifer when you were with me."

He smiled wryly at the irony of their two situations. "I just kept marveling at how much Jennifer reminded me of you. It never even occurred to me that God would allow you to come to me. I thought sure He was still mad at me for defying Him."

"And He was helping you all along instead. He was loving you, maybe even more than I do if that’s possible."

"I know," Jonathan agreed, kissing her tenderly on her cheeks and mouth. "But like you said yourself, I’m pretty stubborn sometimes. Now, let’s get this tree decorated!"

The three of them finished trimming the tree together, laughing loud and often as they exchanged stories. Mark found Jane to be very much a kindred spirit and relished relating some of his more interesting adventures with Jonathan to her, and Jane reciprocated by sharing tales of times past and of Christmases she and her husband had spent together. For his part, Jonathan mostly just listened, content to let these two people he loved so much, his wife and his best friend, get to know each other while he merely drank in the sights and sounds and joy of the moment.

~*~*~*~*~

The days leading up to Christmas passed all too quickly, but with such a sense of happiness and fulfillment that no one could begrudge a single hour of it. Jonathan and Jane spent every moment they could together, trying to talk enough, and laugh enough, and love enough to hold them over the probable long wait that was to come. Mark Gordon found himself a welcome addition in their celebrations as the happy couple reminisced, sang carols, baked and munched every holiday goodie they could think to create, and played in the thick quilt of snow outside.

"Jonathan, can I ask you something?" Mark finished patting more snow onto the beard of the tall snow-Santa he and Jonathan were creating in the front yard. Jane was inside making them some hot chocolate and this was the first opportunity Mark had found to talk to his friend alone.

Jonathan looked over their creation, adding a fluffy red stocking cap to its head as the finishing touch. He swung an arm companionably around his friend's shoulders and grinned as they surveyed their handiwork. "It looks like you!"

Mark chuckled, then spluttered as his friend slyly shoved a small handful of snow into his face. "Why you! Wait'll I get my hands on you!" Mark shouted, scraping snow out of his eyes and scooping up a handful of retaliation from the fluffy white mound at his feet as he turned and looked for his quarry.

A completely unrepentant Jonathan stood grinning at him. His distinctive laughter rang out into the still, cold air as he ducked the oncoming snowball and backed out of easy reach, already readying more frozen ammunition.

Seeing how much his friend was enjoying himself, Mark's momentary irritation disappeared. Jonathan flung another handful of snow in his direction, missing him by an inch, then Mark laughed loudly when his own second strike hit its target dead-on and the other man groaned theatrically and flopped backward into the snow. Mark crossed the yard and offered him a hand up. Jonathan reached out to take it, then a twinkle filled his eyes and he lay back instead, flapping his arms and legs in and out in the snow.

Allowing Mark to pull him out of the depression he had created, Jonathan shook some of the snow out of his hair and joined his friend in another round of hearty laughter as they surveyed the perfectly formed snow angel he had created. Nodding his head back toward the bearded snowman, Mark pointed to the snow angel and said, "And I guess this one looks like you!"

Jonathan grinned. "Well, maybe a little." Gesturing for Mark to follow him back to the house, where they each took a seat on the porch steps, he said, "What did you want to ask me a few minutes ago?"

Mark hesitated, on the verge of asking about the strange sights he had seen in the church, then decided that he didn't really want to know after all. Besides, something told him that Jonathan had not even been aware of it. "It's not important," he said. "I guess I just wanted to say that it's been a long time since I've seen you so happy. It looks good on you, pal."

Surveying the landscape around them, Jonathan took a deep breath of the fresh air and smiled, realizing for the first time that he could no longer feel any of the stress and discontent that had been tearing him apart so frequently of late. Every single moment of the last few days had been utterly perfect, a gift he would cherish forever, and tears welled up in his eyes at the thought that anyone would have done all of this just for him. He had no words to give his friend, but as he met Mark's eyes and saw the warmth and understanding there, he knew no words were needed.

~*~*~*~*~

Christmas morning arrived bright and cold. Jonathan opened his eyes, blinking sleepily into the growing glare creeping in around the light curtains against the bedroom windows. He felt incredibly comfortable and blissfully happy as he snuggled down into the softness of his feather mattress, tucking the blankets protectively around the woman sleeping spooned against his chest. He knew without having to be told that today was the final day of their time together. When midnight came, Christmas would be over and so would his vacation. The knowledge had come like a dream whispered directly into his brain. By tomorrow his angelic powers would be restored and he would be back on the road with his partner. There was sadness in knowing he would soon be parted again from Jane, but Jonathan accepted it as any soldier accepts orders to return to duty, his heart sending a message of silent love and gratitude to the one who had made this holiday possible. In the meantime, they still had today.

Fingers stroking fine tumbled blonde hair away from her face, Jonathan softly laid a kiss on Jane’s temple, another on the outer curve of her ear, behind her jaw and on down her neck and shoulder. Jane smiled without opening her eyes and turned her head to meet his lips with her own. They were in no hurry, making love slowly so as to burn every second into their memories to hold on to until forever arrived. Jonathan could see in her eyes that Jane shared his knowledge of their impending parting and that she accepted it too, however regretfully.

"Always remember I love you," she whispered.

"Always," he replied softly, lowering his mouth back to hers to seal the promise.

~*~*~*~*~

Mark was already up and dressed and busily employing his limited culinary skills to make a grand Christmas breakfast when Jonathan and Jane made their appearance downstairs. Orange juice and coffee were waiting on the table as they took their seats, obeying Mark’s insistence that he could handle everything alone. "Voila!" he announced grandly, placing a plate before each of them, provoking large smiles when they saw the pancakes, shaped into trees and little men with pointy hats.

"I had no idea you possessed such talent," Jonathan teased, pouring syrup thickly over a slightly lopsided tree. He took a bite and nodded to his friend, surprised to find the cake light and fluffy. "This is good! Who’d you get to mix the batter for you?"

Mark made a face, "Cute, pal." Jonathan grinned at him and took another bite. "I didn’t have any presents to give you two, so I though I’d fix breakfast."

Jane rose to give him a hug. "You didn’t have to, Mark. This whole week has been the greatest present either of us could have ever gotten. I’m very glad you decided to stay and share it with us."

"That goes double for me," Jonathan told him. "I just hope you haven’t felt like we were ignoring you at all. I know I’ve been pretty wrapped up in being with Jane and…"

"You don’t have to explain," Mark interrupted, his face reflecting the happiness he felt for them both. "It’s been one of the best weeks of my life. Honestly."

"I just wish I had some kind of present for you," Jonathan told him regretfully.

Mark waved him off. "Ah, don’t worry about it. You know what I wish, though?"

"What?" his friends asked in unison.

"I wish I could’ve been at your wedding," he said unexpectedly. "I suppose that’s silly. I was only a baby back when you got married but watching the two of you this week…well, call me a romantic but I just wish I could’ve seen it."

Jonathan and Jane looked at each other, sharing a silent conversation. Jane looked up at the ceiling suddenly, her attitude the same one of listening which her husband often displayed. She smiled then and nodded to Jonathan. "I think that would be a perfect way to end this time," she said.

Jonathan stood and faced Mark. "One of the things that Jane and I always did on Christmas was attend church services. I don’t see why this Christmas should be any different. You granted my wish, Mark, so we’re going to grant yours. I’m afraid I can’t arrange for you to see our original wedding, but if you’d care to play Best Man, Jane and I would be honored to have you at our second."

"Oh, man," Mark’s voice reflected the awe in his expression. "You bet I will!"

The rest of the day passed in a whirl of preparation and many moments of quiet reflection. At a quarter to midnight, Jane poured a holiday toast and she, Jonathan and Mark stood together by the tree in the glow of a warmly lit fireplace. They raised their glasses and Jane said, "To happiness."

"To Christmas," Mark added.

"To us," Jonathan finished.

They drank and of one accord, threw the glasses into the fireplace. Faster than they could blink, the house and fire disappeared and they were back where they had started, in the little church, standing before an alter wreathed in pine and holly, with candles burning all through the length of the building. Soft strains of Christmas spirituals drifted on the air from an unseen organ and a light with no source shone down upon an old-fashioned pre dieu. No minister was in attendance, but there was no need of one. As Jonathan and Jane knelt in the holy light before the alter, it was clear that no extra presence was required. Mark instinctively took his place between and a few steps behind the couple, folding his hands solemnly before him.

Jonathan spoke first, his soft voice carrying clearly in the stillness as he and Jane rose and faced each other. "Fifty years ago, I made a promise before this altar to love and honor you until death do us part. Death did come and we were parted, but my love for you has never lessened. It’s lived in my heart for fifty years and it will continue to live and grow stronger if we have to wait fifty years or five hundred to be together again. Here in the sight of God, I promise you this."

Tears sparkling in her eyes, Jane spoke. "Our time together on earth was only a few precious years, and though I lived another forty without you, I never stopped caring for you for a day, or an hour, or a single minute. You are my only love, now and for all eternity. Here in the sight of God, I promise you this."

The light around them swelled to an incredible brightness, but rather than shrinking from it the three standing within its circle lifted their faces to absorb it, joy suffusing every corner of their souls. With an incredible tenderness that caused the tears brimming in Mark Gordon’s eyes to spill down his cheeks as he watched it, Jonathan Smith kissed his bride. The light faded and they drew slowly apart, holding their clasped hands out at arms’ length. "Until forever," Jonathan said.

"Keep smiling, my love," Jane whispered, and then she and the church were gone.

~*~*~*~*~

Mark looked around, startled to suddenly find himself standing on a quiet, dark street leaning against the hood of his dilapidated gray car. Jonathan stood beside him, tears in his eyes, but with a peace filled smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, Mark."

"Merry Christmas," Mark returned huskily, dashing the last bit of moisture out of his eyes.

Without another word, Jonathan turned and walked into the reappeared motel. Mark did not follow, needing a moment to get his bearings and suspecting that Jonathan did too. A man trudged past him on the sidewalk, walking a small white dog on a leash. As he watched the little animal frisk around, trying to grab the leash out of its owner’s hand, Mark smiled and commented. "Bet your dog is glad the snow is all gone, huh?"

The man looked at him peculiarly. "What snow? It hasn’t snowed around here in years." Shaking his head at the strange bearded man, the fellow with the dog hurried on his way. Mark blinked in surprise then began to laugh as he realized the truth. The storm that had forced he and his friend to seek shelter in the old church had all been part of the experience.

"Something funny?" Jonathan asked curiously, returning with the duffel bags in his hands. He put them in the trunk, shooting his partner a curious look.

Mark grinned, looking up at the bright expanse of stars overhead. "Not a thing." He tipped his head, gesturing toward the trunk, which he was sure had been locked before Jonathan had pulled it open with a touch. "I see you’ve got the Stuff back."

Jonathan smiled; taking a deep breath as he allowed himself to let go of the magical experience that had just ended. "Yep. I just got word that we’ve got a new assignment. If we leave now, we should make it where we need to go by morning. I’ll give you directions along the way."

"You gonna be all right?" Mark asked, walking around to the driver’s side of the car and fishing for his keys, his eyes never leaving Jonathan’s face.

"I am all right, thanks to you," Jonathan said.

Mark smiled. He believed it.

As the car pulled out from the curb, Jonathan stared out the passenger window, looking behind him at the plain any-town scenery that had been so different for a time. Then he turned to Mark and asked, "So, how does Cary Grant get the bishop and his wife back together?"

Mark perked right up, one hand holding the steering wheel while he gestured with the other. "Oh, that part is great! See the bishop goes to see this mean old lady, Mrs. Hamilton, in order to get a contribution she’s promised, even though he’s supposed to be meeting with his wife at their old church…"

The sound of his voice chattered happily, fading into the distance as the partners moved on to another adventure.

Author's Note: Jane Thompson first appeared in the HTH episode "Keep Smiling" and appeared again in "We'll Have Forever". If you've seen those episodes I hope you like what I've done with the character.