Have Yourself a Faerie Little Christmas

by Michelle L. Levigne

  Lori watched Brick as he and Angela debated the merits of opening up the shallow duck pond in the park as a skating rink before Christmas vacation started. He cared about things that didn't affect him at all, because they affected other people. How many of the Fae men her aunts wanted her to consider as a husband thought about someone else when it didn't benefit them? Lori could count them with a closed fist.

  Maybe something in the cappuccino affected her mind? She wasn't a bigot, but honestly, falling for a Human she had just met?

  "Ready to go?" Brick laughed when she jumped, yanked out of her drifting thoughts.

  "Did you even ask if she wanted to help you?" Angela asked. "You don't know a single thing about this poor girl, except that she wandered into Eden and you shanghaied her to help you out. For all you know, she could have a family waiting for her to get back home to them."

  His face sagged and his eyes widened in undeniable panic, and all Lori could do was sputter and try unsuccessfully to muffle her giggles. That didn't seem to encourage him.

  "Uh--sorry. Honestly. I just didn't think-- I mean, you walked in with Willy and Philly, so I just assumed--"

  "Is that what you call them?" She killed her giggles with some effort. "To be honest, yes, I was looking for something worthwhile to do today. I just didn't expect to find it so fast."

  "Then you'll come with me?"

  "What else will you bribe me with? A girl can only drink so much cappuccino, after all." For added effect, she fluttered her eyelashes at him, something she normally never did.

  Maybe it was the caffeine mixed with the dark chocolate Angela had grated into the coffee, but Lori felt giddy and more alive than she had felt in years.

  "Give me time. I'll make sure this is a day you'll never forget."

  "Oh, that sounds ominous," Angela muttered, which earned laughter from all three.

  Half an hour later, they ended up in the municipal parking lot behind City Hall. There, Lori discovered an entire lot's worth of Christmas trees had been delivered and left leaning against every available upright surface. Four men Brick had called before he left Divine's were already busy tossing the trees into five pickup trucks. She assumed the fifth truck was Brick's, and breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't planned on delivering all those trees by himself.

  Well, obviously not by himself, since she intended to stay with him until the bitter end. And wasn't that an unusual development?

  Brick introduced her to his team, and she blushed all over again at their nods and grins and nudges. It wasn't their appreciation for her looks that affected her so intensely, but their very evident approval of her for Brick's sake. What kind of man was he that people cared? Lori intended to find out. She already had the feeling she would like what she learned.

  She watched him help manhandle the trees into the backs of pickup trucks, and laughed when he scowled at her, teasing, and ordered her to get into the truck and out of the snow. The cold never bothered her.

  The sight of Brick handling those trees when she knew he was allergic--that bothered her. Where were Will and Phill when she needed those bottles of calamine lotion and allergy medicine? Not that she really needed them, of course, since she conjured up the medicine with a snap of her fingers. No, it wasn't that she needed their help, but she wanted their input, their approval, and their opinion of Brick. Was he for real? Why would someone who obviously came from a wealthy family subject himself to the discomfort? He knew he was allergic, yet the trees were the exact things he insisted on handling.

  Maybe this Human-type magic had more to it than she thought.

  Finally every last tree was loaded in the trucks. Brick handed out long sheets of paper to his team. She strolled close enough to look over his shoulder and see the papers held maps of Neighborlee and the surrounding farmlands, and names and addresses. Wasn't he Mr. Efficiency? She laughed.

  "What's so funny, Mrs. Frosty?" He tugged on her hair, dislodging a coating of fluffy dry snowflakes when she just gave him a confused look.

  A flick of magic showed her what she looked like, coated in snow, her cheeks red and eyes sparkling. That look in Brick's eyes drove away what little chill had gathered around her.

  "Aren't you cold?"

  "Toasty." She shook like a puppy, shedding all the snow and making him laugh. Then the laughter caught in her chest when he stepped up close so she caught his warm, spicy-clean scent and put his arms around her, just long enough to feel a jolt like electricity and Midsummer's Eve wine zapping through her from nose to toes.

  "Wow, you are warm. I should take you home with me to keep me warm."

  Oh please oh please oh please, something inside her begged, which shocked her to no end.

  Brick laughed, not hearing any of her inner dialogue--or was that pleading?--and gestured at the truck. "Come on. We have one stop to make before we head out and play milkman."

  "Is that anything like mailman?" she muttered. Her face suddenly felt hot enough to melt the snow for ten feet radius. Lori snapped her fingers to cast up an illusion--when she blushed hot and hard, she turned neon pink and shot off rainbow sparks from her eyelashes and the ends of her hair. That was the last thing she wanted Brick to see. Not now. Not when she was still having fun and getting to know him!

  "Milkman makes deliveries without anyone seeing him," Brick said, smothering laughter. "And I think you're referring to playing Post Office. Big difference." He held open the door of the truck for her. "Of course, if we can get hold of some mistletoe, I wouldn't mind explaining, in detail."

  Lori slipped and fell, halfway into the truck. He caught her and that lovely, intoxicated jolt shot through her again.

  Why did he have to be Human? She knew she could experience this sensation for the next two or three hundred years before it got commonplace, but Humans simply didn't last that long.

  Wouldn't the Dreadful Aunts have coronaries if they knew she considered any kind of long-term relationship with a Human? Well, as long-term as a Human could have with a Fae.

  She shook herself out of her daze by the time Brick had walked around the truck and climbed in on the driver's side. Mutely, she held out the bottle of calamine lotion she conjured a moment before. He sighed, grinned, and shook his head.

  "Did Angela give that to you?"

  "I have my own resources, I'll have you know."

  "Yeah, you just conjured it out of thin air. Well, that's a Christmas angel for you." He tugged off his gloves and yanked up the cuffs of his sweatshirt, revealing new welts popping up. Sweat and friction had rubbed away the previous coating, and new brushes with pine branches had inflicted more damage. "Florence Nightingale, you're hired."

  Lori smiled, taking his words as a compliment, and kept her questions to herself. She waited until Brick was busy driving, then turned sideways and called up the Ether Lexicon to explain the reference. The source of all Fae information appeared in her hands, the interface the size of a tiny day-planner. Sometimes it appeared the size of a Human phone book, whatever the needed demanded. A quick request and a glance at the first page revealed that Florence Nightingale was a healer of some common sense and inspiration.

  Definitely, he had been complimenting her.

  Lori settled in and decided that was something she wouldn't mind doing in the long-term--taking care of people, helping out, healing hurts and discomforts. Especially if Brick was her first and primary patient. She silently sent thanks to Will and Phill, wherever they were. The two were a little odd, preferring time in the Human world, following Human pursuits, doing things the hard, complicated, Human way. But right now, they seemed wiser than all the heads of all the Fae committees and guiding councils.

  Brick didn't need help carrying the trees, at the fifteen stops they made, but Lori was glad to do little things like open fence gates and put an envelope in each door or mail slot. The envelopes held invitations to the Neighborlee Community Center, where the members of each family could come for an evening of snacks and movies, and make decorati
ons for the trees.

  "Stands to reason," Brick said, when she asked him about the envelopes' contents. "If these folks can't afford a tree, maybe they don't have decorations or money for decorations. This lets them get together with other folks who might be having just as rough a time as they are, so they can see they're not alone."

  "And nobody knows you're doing it?"

  "Hey, didn't you notice? A lot of people are doing this today."

  "Yeah, but there's only one Santa Claus."

  And Santa, you have definitely improved, she added, muffling a giggle. She made a mental note to approach the Mythological Interface Committee and suggest a revamping of the whole Santa image and mythos. The cheerful old guy in the red suit and chubby girth was pleasant, but a lot more people might be willing to play elfin helper if Santa looked like Brick.

  * * * *

  "Hey, I got an idea," Brick said, after they had deposited the last tree and invitation. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"

  "I'm not thinking any further than dry clothes and hot chocolate." Lori demonstrated by shaking her head, shedding more snowflakes on the bench seat between them.

  "Besides that." He took hold of her hand. That lovely jolting sensation was diminished by the gloves they wore.

  "I know the decorating party isn't tomorrow, so I have no idea." Her face warmed as several ideas did pop into her head. "I don't really know that much about the holidays, so I imagine there are hundreds of things to do to get ready for Christmas, and I'm flattered that you want me to help you, but I've always heard this was a family time of the year, so shouldn't your family--"

  His gloved hand over her mouth stopped her before she embarrassed herself by fishing for information about his personal life. Such as whether he was married. No, someone as sweet as Brick couldn't be married. Not after the way he made her feel. He was too good-hearted, too nice, too honest and giving to be a cheating worm with a wife waiting at home while he flirted with girls and called them his Christmas angels.

  "My folks and my cousins are all out of town until Christmas Eve," he said, leaning as close as he could in the confines of the truck cab without pushing her up against the door. "So I'm all by my lonesome. I have two tickets for the play tomorrow night, and nobody to go with me. At least, nobody until you dropped down my chimney." He grinned, showing off a dimple in one cheek. "So to speak."

  "Chimney?" She muffled a giggle at the memory of one time she nearly did go down a chimney, just to see what it was like. There were always several hundred recruits to help Santa Claus fulfill his quota every year, and with the right disguise spell, who would ever know the difference?

  "What play?" she asked, instead of telling him the story. It really was funny, but required so much explanation, it would kill the joke. And Brick wouldn't believe her, anyway.

  "Over at the college. They've got a new drama professor who likes to rewrite the classics. He wants to make it a comedy, says it plays better. The tickets have been sold out for weeks, because nobody thinks he can do it and they want to witness whatever weirdness he pulls off."

  "What play?"

  "Well, A Christmas Carole, of course. What other play is there at Christmas?"

  Lori closed her eyes and shuddered as waves of prickles ran up her back, down her arms and across the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet.

  Sunday, December 9

  "I am losing my mind." Lori stared into the mirror of the tiny bathroom of her room at the Neighborlee Arms, an old-style hotel smack dab in the middle of the town.

  She suspected the hotel had once been a house of ill repute, back in the early days. That didn't bother her, because someone must have changed the sheets, if not the furniture, since then, right? It really was a nice little room, cozy, and nobody was around to notice when she opened up a transport globe and brought some of her favorite clothes and a small overnight bag instantaneously from the storage room she had "borrowed" at the Waldorf Astoria. Fortunately, there were only two other guests, so she didn't have a problem getting a room when she signed in very late yesterday.

  "Going out on a date with a Human, after spending half a day in his company, just because he makes you all warm and gooey inside. That's insane." She checked her makeup in the mirror. "Going to see that play--well, that's just plain suicidal."

  "Yeah, but what a way to go," Phill said as she faded into sight.

  "Just how long have you been spying on me?" Lori asked, caught between the urge to laugh, fall into her friend's arms in tears, or throttle her.

  "I just got here." She sank down on the end of the bed and looked her over, head to foot. "Very nice. I can't remember you ever making such an effort back home."

  "I didn't want to attract--" Lori shivered and took a deep breath. "I never wanted to attract anyone's interest before."

  "Believe me, honey, you're long past the interest stage. So, what do you think of good old Brick?"

  "Why do I have the feeling this was a setup? Are you and Will matchmaking? That isn't exactly the territory you're licensed for."

  "We're not old enough to have a license to interfere with the Human world, remember?" Phill grinned and stood up, gesturing for Lori to turn around so she could button up her long, dark blue silk shirt-dress. "We like Brick a lot. That's part of why we vanished so fast, once you took a good look at him. We didn't want him thinking we were setting him up. Too many people have done that. And a lot of nasty twitches have laid traps for him, too. All that Human money."

  "He doesn't dress or act rich."

  "Yeah, isn't it great? Except, when you think about it, the richest guys among the Humans are the ones who are more concerned about giving it away, making other people happy. And we're not talking about bank accounts with a lot of zeros, either. That just means there's a lot of nothing behind them."

  "When did you turn into a philosopher?"

  "Better that than jealousy." She gave a little tug to the wide collar so it exposed Lori's collarbone and the sapphire and pearl necklace.

  "Umm, I don't know if this is the time--"

  "Please tell me you're about to give me some advice with my love life."

  "I always thought you and Will..." Lori shrugged and snatched up the matching earrings to put them in her ears, while watching Phill in the mirror.

  "Yeah? I just figured it out. The problem is... Well... Will he ever figure it out?" She shook her head and stepped back to look Lori over once more. "You look splendiferous. Go out there and wow the guy. Let him know there are some nice girls out there in the world who couldn't care less that he could buy the town twice over."

  "Who'd want to?" Lori stopped and laughed. "No, actually, this is one town I would love to say I owned. I like the feeling here. There's magic. And I don't think it's just Christmas, either."

  "Have you been out to Divine's Emporium yet?"

  "Angela knows what we are. Knows us on sight." She tucked her hair back behind her delicately pointed ears and studied them in the mirror. What would Brick think or say or do if he saw them? They weren't ostentatious and obvious, like some Fae, who did magico-plastic surgery or used prosthetics to enhance their points. Maybe Brick wouldn't notice?

  "She didn't start out magical, but she's been inside magic for so long, it's part of her. At least, that's our theory." Phill shrugged and headed for the door.

  "Why didn't you tell me Maurice ended up here when the Fae Council exiled him?" She laughed when her friend stopped short, almost stumbling, and turned to give her a wide-eyed look of astonishment.

  "Where is he?"

  "At Divine's, disguised as the angel on top of the tree."

  Total silence filled the room for five heartbeats, then both burst out laughing, so hard that Lori sat down on the bed and Phill just sank to the floor right where she was standing, holding her arms around her stomach to brace herself.

  Lori was still grinning, feeling laughter bubbling up from deep inside when Brick walked into the tiny, Victorian-style hotel lobby to
pick her up. The laughter died in a breathless sensation when he stopped short and looked her over, head to foot, and his eyes got wide. He swallowed audibly. She seconded that emotion when she looked him over.

  Brick wore her favorite shade of dark chocolate: calf-length leather duster, dressy cords, and Western boots, with a café au lait-colored cashmere turtleneck sweater.

  Good enough to eat suddenly took on a whole new meaning.

  "Wow," he muttered, and flushed dark red. "Sorry. Couldn't tell I took speech class and attended Toastmasters for five years, could you?"

  "I think it's a lovely compliment." Lori reached for her coat and lost her breath again when he snatched it up and held it for her to slip into. "And let me throw it back to you, doubled."

  "Please tell me you're real and not a ghost or something come to teach me the error of my ways." Mischief sparkled in his eyes when he said it, killing the heavy sensation in her throat that threatened to choke her for a few moments.

  "Why? What errors have you made?"

  "Can't think of a one, right now." He glanced past her, and she was horrified to see the desk clerk, a boy in his early twenties, watching them with a wide grin. "Maybe we better get out of here before we get in any more trouble." He bowed, hooked his arm through hers, and headed for the door.

  "Let me guess," she said, after they had exited the lobby and stepped out into the lightly falling snow. "Matchmakers hound your heels, too?"

  "Too?" His grin went crooked. "So, you heard about me?"

  "I was on my own all morning. Plenty of time to ask around. Poor little rich boy, making up for the sins of his ancestors by making the world a better place, and terrified that every girl who smiles at him might be after his money and not his-- Not his personality," she amended quickly.