Friday, 7 December 2012



When his last boyfriend broke his heart and stole his life savings, Glenn figured he would be much safer if he closed the door on love and threw himself into his job as head window dresser in a large department store. 

Unbeknownst to Glenn, while he continues to build a wall around his heart, his Guardian Angel is plotting to give him his happy ever after involving a mannequin and a sprig of mistletoe.



Glenn pushed through the doors and turned left. He needed no direction. His feet had mapped out the route more than enough times to know exactly where he was going. His breath caught in his throat and the flush of excitement heated his cheeks. There He was.
“Hello, handsome,” he said softly, lifting his hand and trailing his fingers along a smooth, cool cheek. “It’s that time of year again. Who do you want to be this time?  Santa or one of the Elves?”  He huffed out a joyless laugh, amazed at his own irrationality. “Maybe I should take you to the party with me, shut them up once and for all. Would you like that?  You and me dancing the night away and kissing under the mistletoe?  Then we could go back to my place and....oh shut the fuck up, Glenn,” he mumbled, shaking his head and grabbing some fabric from a nearby table. That would go down real well, he’d be the talk of the store if anyone found out he was in love with the prettiest mannequin he had ever seen.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Thomas,” the tone was derisive and condescending. “You’ve come up with some corkers over the years, but this has got to be the stupidest.”
“Shut up and play your harp, Amos,” Thomas replied, his long blond hair flowing around his face and his legs thrown casually over the side of the cloud they were sitting on. “Glenn Perkins is my human, I can do whatever the hell I like with him.” Sometimes Amos was far too sanctimonious for his own good. You’d think being a Guardian Angel for twelve hundred years would have softened the moron, but no such luck. Amos still liked to play by the rule book – but then Thomas always managed to talk him into helping with his latest hare brained scheme.
“I’m telling Christian you said the ‘H’ word.”
“What are you? Twelve?” Thomas bit back, turning to push at Amos’s shoulder, almost dislodging his companion from his seat on the cloud.
Amos poked his tongue out. “You know very well I have a thousand years on you, boy. So don’t push your luck.”
“Look at him,” Thomas said wistfully, waving his hand over the air and smiling as a picture of Glenn appeared before them. They watched the tall, handsome man busy in the Christmas display window of the large department store, stringing fairy lights and hanging garlands. Well, it was December 1st after all, and it was something Thomas had watched Glenn do on each December 1st for the last three years. “I’ve had many humans under my charge these last two hundred years since I became a Guardian, but he’s got to be the most frustrating. His heart is one of the biggest I’ve ever seen. He has so much to give, yet he won’t let himself be happy.”
“That’s ‘cause he’s afraid of getting hurt again,” Amos said succinctly.
“Oh shut up, am I ever gonna live that down?”  Thomas complained, knowing that Amos would never stop harping about his epic matchmaking failure. “I admit that sending Ryan to him was a mistake. An error in was I to know he’d turn out to be an asshole?”
“An asshole? He took his life savings, Thomas!”
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll tell Christian where you were last night. I’m sure he’d be very interested to know that you and Julie left your posts to check out each other’s credentials.” He smiled smugly at the flush that reddened Amos’s pale cheeks and continued to study Glenn.
“You do realize you’ll have to get Christian’s permission?” Amos nudged him with his harp. “You can’t just go bringing inanimate objects to life on your own. You’ll get your wings clipped.”
“If it means Glenn finally has just a moment of happy ever after, I really don’t give a shit.” Thomas held up his hand before Amos could open his mouth. “Just like I don’t give a shit if you tell Christian I said the “s” word. Now,” he raised an eyebrow at his usual partner in crime, “you gonna help me out or what?”

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