Written by Phil Colvin,
Chapter 2
St. George’s Rare Books
Grace watched anxiously as Gabriel examined the vehicles which had crashed outside the shop. What the hell was it? A military plane? A UFO? Whatever it was, Gabriel was giving it a very strange look....Gabriel looked at the figure inside the car, he should have realised sooner.
"Mosely, you idiot! You could have killed us!", Mosely was slumped on the seat of the squad car. He was completely drunk.
"Sorry Gabe, I guess I should have stopped...if I could remember how", he was very dazed.
"I think you’d better lie down", sighed Gabriel.
"Don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!", laughed Mosely as he walked towards the shop, promptly hitting the lamppost in the path and collapsing to the ground.
It took Gabriel and Grace nearly five minutes to drag Mosley into the back of the shop. With a mighty heave he finally slumped down on the bed and fell asleep.
"So much for gratitude", said Gabriel.
"How on earth did they let him drive in that state?"
"Gracie, this is the New Orleans PD, not the good Samaritans. They were probably all to drunk to even notice anyway!". Grace sighed, so much for the great start to the holidays. She went back into the front of the shop. Gabriel followed her.
"I guess I’d better do something about that window", sighed Gabriel. "I’ll need to cover up the hole with something..."
"Well, you could plug Mosely in the hole. That’s about all he’s useful for at the moment." Grace sighed, sometimes she felt she was stuck in some prime-time TV drama which was desperately trying to move into comedy. But soon the feeling past.
"I’m going home", she sighed.
"It’s pretty late", said Gabriel, "Are you sure you won’t stay over?"
"Sorry, Gabe. But it looks like you’ve already got a partner for the night", she pointed at the figure of Mosely sprawled out on Gabriel’s bed.
"Don’t have nightmares", she smiled as she left. Gabriel stood alone in the shop. from the back, Mosely began to snore.
"Aww, put a sock in it!", yelled Gabriel throwing a copy of ‘The Voodoo Murders’ at him.
Santa’s Workshop
North Pole
In his office, away from the busy factory floor, Santa sat surrounded by thousands of sacks of mail reading the letters and making notes. It was only a few days before Christmas and he was still getting sack-fulls of strange envelopes and postcards which looked like they had been addressed by five year olds. Which the had, obviously, but sometimes it was easily to be put off by the fact every day of the year involved reading unintelligible scrawl from every corner of the globe. Still, Santa didn’t grumble, at least now he could say ‘I want a bike’ in every language known to man. Santa opened another letter, it was from Benin in Africa. He sighed and reached for his bi-lingual dictionary. Just then an elf came in with another huge sack of mail.
"You’ve got to be kidding!", breathed Santa as the elf placed it in a corner.
"Sorry, sir", piped up the little man, "But there’s more to come."
"I can’t wait for the day when I can do this all automatically on the computer", he sighed as the elf went. The next letter was a particularly grubby one form America. Santa opened it.
"Dear Santa, Please ensure there is a personal computer in every house in every country in the world and they are all running Microsoft software.... Billy", read Santa aloud. He sighed.
"Flippin’ Bill Gates, he tries it on every year" he said as he posted it in the ‘BAD CHILDREN’ pile. It was then that he picked up the letter sent from New Orleans....
St. George’s Rare Books
23rd December
Gabriel was awake very early. Well, he hadn’t even slept yet thanks to ‘motormouth Mosely’ snoring away. Gabriel was lying on the floor of his bathroom, his back ached, he was tired, hungry and he was certain that the shop was infested with rats. From the front of the shop he heard the sound of the door being opened. Gabriel closed his eyes and began to drift to sleep...
"Oh my God!", he woke with a start. Grace was standing above him. She suddenly composed herself. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were dead."
"Thanks a lot"
"Well, it’s not every day I come in here and find you sprawled out on the floor...well, almost every day."
"Uh huh."
"I’m assuming that Mosely hasn’t recovered yet, then."
"No, I just like sleeping on the floor." Gabriel said sarcastically before he got up and shook his head. It really had been a long night. He went into the front of the shop and headed straight for the coffee machine. Grace had turned the radio on and the awful tones of ‘The Happiest Time of the Year!", were ringing in his ears. Grace followed him out.
"Well, I think Mosely has woken up. Either that or there’s been an earthquake in the near vicinity.", he shivered in the cold air blowing through the broken window.,
"You’re going to have to get that fixed, you know." "Really?", said Gabriel, sarcastically, "I thought I might leave it like that to give the place a more ‘open house’ appearance. Anyway, it hardly matters. It’s not as if anyone’s going to steal anything from this shop."
"That’s true." Grace walked over to the pile of post which had been delivered and rifled through it. Gabriel watched her.
"Anything there?", he asked.
"A few bits and pieces. There’s a couple laced with the scent of perfume..."
"Those will be for me", smiled Gabriel, "Probably containing some very attractive female underwear."
"You wish."
"Anything else?"
"There are a couple of cards. Ubergrau sent a plain one.."
"Trust a lawyer for originality."
"Here’s one from the Smiths....’Happy Winter Solstice.’"
"That’s what happens when you get mixed up with nutters and demonologists." Grace smiled, she knew that secretly Gabriel still felt gratitude to the Smiths for what they had done to help him. She opened the last letter.
"Oh look, it’s from your publisher."
"Massy? What does he want?"
"He thanks you for what you did last year...."
"So he should."
"...And he’s looking forward to hearing the initial plot for next year’s book."
"Oh yeah, I’ll have to get round to that soon."
"Haven’t you started yet?"
"I haven’t had anything to write about! There’s been less action your house on a Saturday night."
"Watch it, Knight." Gabriel smiled. He knew she liked him, it was just a matter of time before she finally gave into his charms. Mind you, it has been four years now, that was a little under average for Gabriel’s usual ‘charm time’. About four years behind, actually. He looked in the mirror. Was he getting older? They had got close once. It was last year, just after he’d had his resurrection experience. But it was two kisses. That was all. Two short, fleeting kisses. Maybe it was the hair? Was that a receding hairline appearing?....
"Aww, What a night." Gabriel’s nightmare hair day was interrupted by the appearance of Mosely in the door from his room.
"Morning, Mosely", smiled Grace.
"Grace? Gabriel? This may seem like a weird question....but does either of you know how I got here?"
"Can’t you remember?"
"Not really."
"I think it would be better if we didn’t bother to explain."
"Fair enough...hey, Gabe, what happened to your window?"
"Don’t ask!"
"Well, just remember to get it fixed. I don’t want to catch the flu whilst I’m staying here....", and with that he sauntered back to the other room.
"Well", said Grace, "This is a GREAT holiday season."
"Yeah, well it can only get better."
It was probably fate, Gabriel mused later, which brought the next few minutes proceedings into focus. he had heard the sirens from a long way off and assumed it was simply a normal call out to someone. But when it got louder, he became suspicious. He poked his head out of the shop window and watched as three squad cars came careering down the road towards the shop.
"Oh you have to be kidding!", shouted Gabriel, "I only just covered up this window!"
"What is it?"
"Grace, duck!". Gabriel shouted.
"Oh, not again", sighed Grace. She ducked under the counter and Gabriel dived behind the window. However, there was no crash this time. The cars all skidded to a halt just in front of the window. Outside there were voices. Gabriel was sure that he recognised some of them, but he couldn’t quite make it out....
"FBI! Open the door", came the familiar voice from outside. Grace looked at Gabriel, he shrugged.
"Well, hey, maybe they just came to wish us a Merry Christmas", just then the door was kicked open and the two FBI agents strode into the room and stood in front of Gabriel.
"Nice to see you remember us", smiled Agent Scully. "You didn’t have to bow at my feet, though."
"Nice touch, Gabe", smiled Mulder, "We’re here to ask you some questions about an occurrence last night involving a strange object crashing into your shop...." Gabriel sighed, it really was going to be one of those days....
If you have any comments, you can email Phil Colvin at sculder_mully@geocities.com.
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