A Starman / Touched by an Angel crossover

by: Yvette Jessen

©2000, an amateur publication, and not intended to infringe on any previously or currently held copyrights.

The small roadside cafe was practically empty. The snow was falling much faster since it had gotten dark and every hour the radio would send out warnings that the roads were too hazardous to drive on. The news was nothing short of a disaster for Sandy Pickering. She had been driving all afternoon towards Buffalo in hopes of getting there in time to spend Christmas with her mother and brother. Now, it was Christmas-Eve and she was sitting alone in the corner of a cafe which was situated somewhere between Castle Rock and Harrisburg, New York. The sad fact, Buffalo was still another three hours driving time from where she was and it looked as though she wasn't going to make it, and she couldn't think of anything more upsetting than spending Christmas alone. Her car was broken down and she prayed that the mechanic would be able to fix it that night.

The traffic report had ended and now they were playing non-stop Christmas music. The heavyset black waitress was walking though the cafe as the music started and she laid the tray she had been carrying on the counter and walked over to the radio to turn it up. "Oh there's no place like home for the holidays...," sang the waitress, who's name was Tess, and her soulful voice filtered through the café as she picked up the tray once again and proceeded towards the kitchen where her colleague, Monica, was working.

Tess eventually approached the table where Sandy was sitting, "would you like another cup of coffee?"

Sandy nodded numbly, little did she know that the woman speaking to her was not really a waitress at all, but an angel who was there to watch over her. All Sandy could see was an older woman who could sing like a bird, and who seemed to carry herself with cheerfulness and optimism of a small child. "Yeah, thanks."

Tess took the cup that was sitting on the table, walked about two feet away, poured a generous supply of coffee into the cup, and returned it to the table. "You should cheer up, baby," Tess said, "don't forget that no matter where you are, the Christmas spirit should also be with you. Why are you so unhappy?"

Sandy sighed, "I don't know really, I just want to be at home, I feel stranded here. Do you think Mike will be able to fix my car tonight?"

"I don't know," Tess answered. "But, I'll be working all night here, so if you need someone to talk to, just call. My name's Tess."

"Thank you, Tess," Sandy mumbled, "and I feel more like Mary or Joseph than myself tonight. I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere and not able to get home for Christmas."

"At least you have a home to go home to, Sandy," Tess said and pointed towards a door where two people were entering.

Sandy's gaze fell on the appearance of the two strangers who had just come in. They appeared as though they had been on the road for some time and the younger of the two, a teenage boy, had his arm around the shoulders of the man. When she looked back over towards where Tess had been standing, she noticed that the older woman was now gone. How did she even know my name, I didn't even tell her, she asked herself. Those unusual thoughts seemed to fade as she glanced towards the two people who had entered.

When the soft blue eyes of the man came to rest on her, she looked away self-consciously. The man said nothing, just smiled warmly as he joined his son at a nearby booth. Sandy looked back over towards where they were sitting, the boy had reached for a menu that was standing in the center of the table and opened it.

"Dad, do you think we have enough money to get one of those big burgers?" the teenager asked. "I'm so hungry."

"Yes, Scott, I figured you were," the man answered with a smile as he glanced around the diner. He couldn't shake the uneasy sensation that there was something eerie about this place. He sighed deeply and reached for a menu himself trying to shake the uneasy feelings he had.

"Hey look at this, they make burgers with avocado slices and bacon," Scott said as he looked at the pictures of the various items they served. "I think I want one of those."

Sandy watched as the two of them spoke, their voices hushed, but their enthusiasm couldn't go unnoticed. Just like Tess, these two people seemed to carry an optimistic outlook on everything. Tess' words came back into her mind. "At least you have a home to go back to for Christmas..." The two of them may not have a home, but they compensated for that with the overall warmth they seemed to have with one another.

Do such warm people have to stay in this kind of a place on Christmas-Eve, she asked herself as she brought the steaming coffee to her lips. Once she drank some, she replaced the cup on the table and continued watching the conversation between father and son.

"Dad, do you remember last Christmas? We were at Grandma's," Scott's eyes looked a little sad, but he was smiling slightly.

Paul Forrester nodded, "Yes, I remember..." his voice trailed and he looked at his son sadly. He'd never forget the events of the past Christmas, how could he? It was one of the most wonderful memories he had, but it was also sad, because Stella Forrester had died. He had succeeded in helping her forgive the son who had vanished some 17 years ago, but it was a bittersweet feeling because she had died at Christmas.

Paul was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice that a young waitress had approached. He kept his head down until her soft words interrupted him. "Good evening," she said and smiled, "I'm Monica, and I'll be your waitress this evening."

She was standing next to the table where the two of them were sitting. When Paul looked up at her, his eyes widened, but he didn't say anything.

Scott didn't notice his father's strange response to the woman, he simply looked up at her. She had long auburn hair which was pulled back in a blue ribbon, her eyes sparkled, and her smile warm and friendly. Her voice was a lilting Irish baroque and she was dressed simply, and held a small pad in her hand. She spoke to him, her voice matching her smile, "What would you like to eat this wonderful Christmas-Eve?"

Scott smiled weakly, she used such extravagant words, but he couldn't deny the friendly sentiments of the woman standing next to their table, "the 'avocado deluxe' sounds good, and a coke."

Monica wrote in the pad, "and you?" her soft eyes fell on Paul who was sitting in his chair with an odd expression on his face.

Scott finally had to nudge him. "Hey Dad, wake up. Monica wants to know what you want to eat."

Paul blushed slightly, and smiled, his daze had been broken, "I'd like the 'bacon cheeseburger' and a pink lemonade."

Monica scribbled on the pad once again and smiled.

Paul's gaze eventually fell on the young woman who was seated on the other side of the diner. "Is she here alone?" he finally asked Monica trying to alter the focus from his discomfort to the plight of the young woman who had been watching him and his son since they had entered the restaurant.

"Unfortunately, Sandy's car broke down earlier, and she's been here most of the evening. She's spoken to a mechanic, and he said he'd let her know if he can fix it now, or if she'd have to wait until after Christmas to get the repairs done."

"How awful," Scott said softly.

"Yes," Paul affirmed as another young man entered the cafe, his blond hair in a ponytail, and a baseball cap on his head. He wore a grungy coat, and it was obvious that he had been spending the last few hours hard at work on the young woman's car. The man approached the woman who was still sitting at the table, and he sat down across from her. "Sandy?"

Sandy looked up, her eyes a sea of hope, "were you able to fix my car?"

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do, the entire motor has to be taken out and redone. Chances are I couldn't fix it here, because I just don't have the equipment to do the job, and I have no way of getting the car to my shop tonight," he explained.

"But this is important, Mike. I can't spend Christmas here," she said weakly.

"I understand, but there's nothing I can do. None of the wrecker services are open at this hour, and the closest one is about 20 miles away. On Christmas-Eve, I wouldn't expect too much, and even if I did get the car back to my shop, I'd have to wait until the 26th to start working on it." He pulled his baseball cap off and ran his hand through his hair. "You know I'd do it if I could, but the parts you'll need have to be ordered, and none of the distributors are open tonight or tomorrow."

"So, you're saying, it's hopeless?" Sandy asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm afraid so, is there anyone I should call for you, maybe someone can come and pick you up?" Mike asked.

"No, my mother can't drive anymore, my sister and her family are vacationing in Hawaii. The only person that could possibly pick me up would be my brother, but he's been called in to work tonight." Sandy shook her head, her final energy giving out and she dropped her head in her hands and shook it. For Sandy Pickering, Christmas was destroyed, and as each minute ticked by, her hopelessness became more and more dominant.

"I wish I could do something to help you, but I don't know what I can do," Mike said.

"Do you know if there's anyone going to Buffalo tonight?"

"No, I don't, I'm sorry;" Mike said and picked up the slip of paper which was lying on the table. He stood up and walked towards where Monica was still standing next to Paul and Scott's table. "Hey, Monica, I'll take care of her tab, will $20 cover it?"

Monica accepted the money that Mike held and nodded, "yes, Mike, it should, and thank you."

Mike nodded, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Monica called out as Mike made his way towards the door of the café. Once the door opened and closed, she turned back towards Paul and Scott, shrugged her shoulders and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

Sandy was still sitting at her table, her head was still resting in her hands and the tears were persistently streaming down her cheeks. "I need a miracle," she whispered softly to herself repeating the words in concession as she shook her head.

Paul, by this time, had stood up, and was making his way in the direction of where she was sitting. He sat down next to her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "You look like you could use a friend," he said softly.

"Maybe," she whispered and glanced up to see his kind blue eyes. Her gaze fell back on the table and she sighed deeply.

"My son and I have a car, and if you'd like, we can drive you to Buffalo this evening," Paul offered.

Sandy looked at Paul, her expression hard, but also determined, "that's very kind of you, but I don't think I can accept such a kind offer from a stranger."

"Wait a minute, you just asked the mechanic if he knew someone who could take you to Buffalo," Paul said, confusion evident in his eyes. "If Mike could have found someone who could drive you, would you have accepted?"

"I know Mike, but I don't even know who you are."

"My name is Paul and my son, Scott is sitting over there waiting for me," Paul introduced himself.

Sandy shook her head.

"You're afraid of me," Paul said, his voice depicting more of a statement of fact than a question.

Sandy looked abruptly up at him. She knew that he had a point, but his question was so direct, she couldn't help but to nod timidly.

Paul smiled, "I understand, but if you change your mind, we're over there, and would be happy to help you." Before she could offer an answer, he stood up and made his way back over to where his son was seated and sat down across from Scott. The boy was looking at his father wanting to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Paul could see that his son was concerned, but he was also confused.

* * *

Monica entered the kitchen right as Tess appeared, "Well, Miss Wings, do you know who you're supposed to help?"

"No, but I think it's Sandy, she's acting so afraid. I saw Paul go over to her and offer to take her to Buffalo, and she refused. I wonder why that is. Isn't getting to Buffalo the most important thing to her right now?" Monica spoke softly, her eyes closing as though she was in apt contemplation.

"She's afraid, baby, and sometimes because people are afraid, they react in ways they don't want to. Sandy wants to accept Paul's offer, but because she was harmed by a dark headed man when she was a child, she has grown up believing that all dark-headed men are the same as the one that harmed her." Tess answered, and looked at Monica intently, "you remember how she had reacted towards Mike when she needed his help?" She asked referring to the light hair and complexion of the mechanic.

"Yes, I remember, but none of this makes any sense," Monica said.

"That girl in there has been stigmatized by her past," Tess answered. "But Sandy isn't the one who needs our help, Paul is."

"Paul, but why?" Monica objected.

"Well Angel Girl, Paul is different than any other assignment you'll probably ever have," Tess answered.

"But Tess, Paul is not like the others. I mean he's..." her voice trailed. It wasn't often that Monica became so flustered that she couldn't find the words she was looking for. She looked at Tess.

"You're absolutely right, honey. That man in there isn't a man. He's an alien from another world, and a blue light, but he's going to be the one to break through Sandy Pickering's wall. If anyone can do it, it's going to be Paul Forrester, the only trouble is, right now, neither he nor his son have any idea that they are the ones to do it, not us."

"You mean, Paul will have to convince her go with them to Buffalo?" Monica asked.

"I think that's what God has in mind, but aside from that, there's nothing else we can do, just wait and watch," Tess said as Andrew appeared from out of no where.

"Andrew, what are you doing here?" Monica asked, the color fading from her pretty face.

The Angel of Death shook his head, "it's not yet clear, Monica."

"Tess, what's going to happen here?" Monica asked.

The older of the three angels shook her head, "I don't really know."

Monica picked up the plates with Paul and Scott's burgers and walked towards the door of the kitchen and out into the dining room all the while shaking her head.

* * *

Sandy was still sitting alone when Monica brought the burgers to Paul and Scott. She watched them for some moments and then returned her attention to the half empty cup of coffee.

Finally, she grasped the handle of the cup and brought it to her lips. Once she had tasted the coffee, she groaned and returned the cup to the table. After some time passed, she pushed the cup away and sighed deeply. The energy the coffee was supposed to give her had stopped working and she was beginning to feel dizzy and tired all at once. She closed her eyes.

When they opened some moments later, she could see Paul's eyes staring down at her. "Are you all right?"

"W-what did you do?" she asked, her voice timid.

"I didn't do anything. You had fallen asleep at the table, and slid to the floor. I called Monica to come help, but she didn't hear me, and so Scott and I moved you to this booth," Paul said.

"What time is it?"

"It's almost 10," Paul answered. "We didn't want to leave you here alone on Christmas-Eve, and decided to stay here until you're able to get a ride home."

"Why would you do that?" Sandy demanded. "I didn't ask you to."

"I know you didn't, but in good conscience, I couldn't leave you here in the middle of nowhere on Christmas-Eve," Paul answered calmly. "Scott and I have no place to go, and it really doesn't matter to us where we spend Christmas, as long as we're together."

"You're really alone then, I mean you have no home to go to?"

"No, we are looking for Scott's mother and we've been on the road now for over a year," Paul answered.

"Then it's true, just like Tess said as you were coming in earlier this evening..." Sandy looked into his eyes and shivered.

"Excuse me?" Paul asked, the same strange sensations returning to him. "Did this Tess say anything else to you about us?"

"No," Sandy offered as Paul stood up. "She was a waitress, but she was here only when I was here alone, and she was singing Christmas carols. She knew my name, but I don't remember telling her who I was. It was a strange feeling, but she seemed so kind and wise."

Paul nodded, "yes, I have a similar feeling as you, but about Monica."

"Who do you suppose they are?" Sandy asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "Maybe they're just here to make sure that no one is alone on Christmas."

Sandy contemplated his answer for a few minutes and then nodded. "Maybe you're right, but I appreciate you helping me back there."

"It's no problem, Sandy."

"Wait, how did you know what my name was?"

"I heard Mike, the mechanic, call you by name when he came in earlier," Paul smiled.

"Oh, uh yeah."

"I'll be back in a few minutes, there's something I have to do," Paul said and walked towards the kitchen door. There was something strange going on in this café, a sensation he had since they had come in. He was determined to find Monica and learn what it is that set her apart from the other people he had seen in this place. He hadn't seen Tess yet, but he knew that if he found her or Monica, he'd be able to find out why he was experiencing these odd sensations.

Once he got far enough away from Sandy, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out his sphere. After a few seconds, he began to concentrate and the object began to emanate a soft blue light. He began to walk towards the door leading into the kitchen, all the while staring down at the object in his hand.

"Paul Honey, put your sphere back in your pocket, you'll never be able to find us with it." He turned around and was face to face with an older woman, two other people were standing near her, one of them was Monica.

They had appeared from out of nowhere and were standing next to him. He disconnected from the object he had been holding and stuffed it quickly in his pocket. "Don't be afraid, Paul, we can keep a secret," Monica said softly.

"I've had a strange feeling about this place since we came in. I know you don't want to harm us, but I don't know who you are." Paul said softly.

Tess shook her head, "no, Paul, none of us want to harm you, just the same as you didn't come to this world to harm anyone here."

"How do you know so much about me?" Paul asked. "You seem to know that I am not of this world, you know my name..."

"Paul, we're angels," Monica said simply, "we know a great deal about you."

"Angels?" Paul's eyes widened, but he looked back down at the ground. In all of Paul Forrester's innocence, he didn't know what an angel was, and only living on Earth for a little over a year, he wasn't sure what to make of Monica's statement.

"You don't know what an angel is, do you?" Tess asked.

Paul shook his head not really sure what to say. He felt somewhat intimidated about showing them his ignorance. He finally swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at Tess sheepishly.

"Don't feel ashamed, Paul," Monica said softly before Tess could say anything, "as a child learns things, you must also experience learning. There's no reason for you to feel badly when you don't know something."

"But, what do you want with me?" Paul asked.

"God has a message for you, Paul," Tess began. "We're here as messengers from God."

"You mean the creator of all things has sent you to give me a message? But, what is the it?" Paul asked.

"You'll know that by morning," Tess promised him, "and without the help of your son."

Paul blushed slightly and looked at Monica, "why are you here?"

"We've been coming here for years, to guide or help people," Monica answered, "in very much the same way you have been doing since you returned to Earth."

"But, I didn't come back to help people, I came back for my son. I cannot do the kind of work that you do," Paul objected, his embarrassment evident.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Paul," Tess replied. "You've helped so many people since you returned that you don't even realize the monumental impact you've had on people." She looked back into the dining room and watched while Sandy continued to drown her sorrows in what appeared to be her seventh or eighth cup of coffee. "Just remember, you're the one who holds the gift of this season in your heart." Tess smiled and vanished.

When Paul was about to answer, he realized that he was now alone. He looked over in the direction where Monica and the other angel had been standing, and realized that they too were gone. He turned around and walked back towards the dining room. As he made his way back over to where Sandy was sitting, Tess' words rang in his mind. "The gift of the season in my heart?" He sighed deeply once he reached the table where the young woman was sitting. He sat down next to where she was and smiled gently once she looked up from the cup she was holding.

"Hi," he offered weakly. "You don't mind if I sit down, do you?"

"You can do whatever you like," she answered.

Paul sat down next to her as Scott approached the table and sat down, "look out the window, Dad, it's beautiful."

Paul looked out, and sure enough the snowing had stopped, and the sky looked like black velvet and diamonds. The stars were blanketed across the night sky, and Paul suddenly felt better knowing this. His mind returned to the words of his son, more beautiful than Scott would ever know. "Yes, Scott, it's a wonderful sight."

Scott looked out the window and after a few minutes passed, Paul's attention returned to the young woman seated next to him. "Why are you so afraid of me?" He finally asked, his voice soft.

"What makes you so sure that I am?" She asked, her voice wavering.

"Sandy, I know you are afraid, I can see it in your eyes," he said as he rested his hand on her shoulder, but when he could only feel the wool of her blue sweater, his eyes widened, and he abruptly withdrew his hand. As he laid his hand on the table, it suddenly occurred to him that his telepathic abilities to sense emotions was gone, and this frightened him. He was left to wonder if he no longer possessed the ability to use the sphere.

Sandy nodded once again, but said nothing. Her eyes followed Monica who had come out of the kitchen.

The young angel walked over to the radio and changed the station. On the radio, a man had started reading the Christmas story from the Bible and had made her way over to the table Paul and Scott had used during their dinner. The empty plates, she took away after she wiped a cloth over the table. As she walked back in the direction of the kitchen, a man's voice drifted through the diner from the radio, which was in the corner of the room.

"...and an angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds, and they were so afraid. But the angel spoke: 'Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be unto all people...'." The gentle voice of the man on the radio resonated through the room and Paul self-consciously stood up and approached the radio as though he had a mission to fulfill.

Scott turned his head away from the window to see his father walking towards the radio. Something strange was happening to his father, and he couldn't understand. He looked at Sandy, she seemed afraid too. He looked at her. "Do you understand anything that has happened here?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't, but I wish I did."

* * *

By this time, Paul had reached the radio and was about to turn the volume up another notch when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. "Paul," the soft voice spoke.

He turned around to see Monica standing there.

"I know what you're thinking, and the only way you will learn is to return to Scott and Sandy," the young Irish angel spoke.

"But, Monica, I don't know what it is I'm supposed to do. Your friend said that the gift of the season comes from my heart, and I don't understand."

"It does, Paul. I cannot guide you unless you allow your heart to be your guide. Tess said that you have the power to heal in your heart, and you do. Do you remember Stella Forrester?" Monica asked.

"Yes."

"You found the ability to heal the torn apart relationship with Stella and her son before she died, didn't you?" Monica asked.

"Her son had died before the relationship could have been healed and I did what I had to, but Monica, all the things I could do then are now gone. How can I find the power to heal, when my power is no longer there?" Paul looked at her, his eyes soft, but filled with fear.

"Paul, the power within doesn't mean the things you can do that are not human, it's about the human things you have adapted to and learned since you returned, and the gifts that God gives all of his children," Monica said.

"Am I a child of God?" Paul asked. "I'm not human, my world is far removed from this one. George Fox calls me an 'it', but I'm more than just an object, aren't I?"

"You are a creation of God, Paul, as are all your people. If the Father can create the entire universe, then He can create you and your people just as He created this world and human beings," Monica offered. "Just because you don't come from Earth doesn't make you lesser a being than someone who is human." She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled compassionately at him. "I think that it is not about your alien heritage, Paul, but you've been living the life of a man who had hurt many people in his life and now you are striving to compensate for the shortcomings of the other man. I believe that is the spirit that Tess was referring to."

Paul nodded, "I think I understand what it is I have to do now. Thank you, Monica."

"You're welcome, Paul."

Paul turned away from the angel and walked towards the table where his son and Sandy were still sitting. His mind was a whirlwind of events, thoughts, and emotions, but at least he knew what it was God seemed to want him to do.

He wanted more than anything, to tell his son about what Monica and Tess had told him, but he knew in his heart that he couldn't so instead of contemplate it further, he sat down next to Sandy and across from Scott. Self-consciously, he reached inside his pocket and touched his sphere.

Once he could feel the cold metal against his hand, a disturbing feeling encompassed him, and he looked at his son helplessly. Never before had he felt so cut off from his world as he did at that moment. He wished that he could speak to Scott about what had happened to him, but he knew that he couldn't.

"Dad, is there something wrong, you look kinda out of it?" Scott asked. "I'm afraid, I mean; I have this strange feeling that something's wrong. You're not acting like yourself."

"Scott, I'm fine, just a little tired, I suppose," Paul answered.

"No, it's more than that, something weird is going on here, and I don't know what it is," Scott answered.

Paul looked at his son. At 15, his son had adapted well, and it made him proud that his abilities were beginning to show. He could see the concern in Scott's face, and was still at a loss as to what to say. This wasn't exactly an easy situation for his son. "Scott, something has happened to me, but right now I cannot talk about it."

"You know you can always talk to me, Dad," Scott said, his voice cracking, and he placed his hand on his father's arm.

Paul said nothing, simply nodded.

"Dad, there's something I wanted to ask you, why are we still here?" Scott asked. "Don't we need to get to a hotel or something?"

"I don't want to leave Sandy here alone," Paul said and looked at the young woman. "You're alone and afraid, aren't you?"

The young woman finally broke her silence and turned to face Paul, "yes, I am."

"Why are you afraid?" Paul asked gently. He reached over and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. He couldn't forget that his special abilities were no longer there, and he tried to ignore the nervous feelings that he had about it. Finally, he spoke trying to ignore the fear that had overcome him. "I would never hurt you, Sandy."

Sandy shook her head. "I don't know."

"I think you do know why you're afraid of me, and not of Mike. Why don't you tell me?" Paul asked. "There's something about me that frightens you."

She nodded, shame covering her face, "your hair."

Paul's eyebrows arched, "What it is about my hair?"

Sandy looked up at him, her green eyes filling with tears. She wiped her hand over her face trying to block the tears that has started streaming down her cheeks. After some moments of silence passed, she tried without success to find her voice.

"Take your time," Paul said softly.

Sandy nodded, and once she found her voice, she spoke. "When I was five-years-old, I went with my mother to a shopping center. She left me at the toy department, and while I was there, a dark-headed man approached me and grabbed my arm. He wanted to take me away from my mother, and said that if I didn't do as he said, he'd hurt my mother. Without thinking of anything else, I agreed and he led me away from the center. Outside, he tied me up and put me in the back of a van."

Scott listened in absolute horror, and looked at his father who was concentrating on the story Sandy was telling. She continued speaking, her voice wavering.

"I fell asleep and the next time I woke up, there was a policeman saying he was going to take me home. I don't remember anything else, except that the man that kidnapped me had dark brown hair." Sandy looked up and met Paul's sympathetic gaze.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Sandy," Paul said gently.

Scott nodded affirming his father's words.

"I thought I had forgotten about it, but I haven't," she offered.

"And you're afraid of going anywhere with us because I have dark hair and you're afraid that I would do something to harm you? I wouldn't, Sandy, I wouldn't ever hurt anyone, and certainly not in the way that you were hurt," Paul said.

She nodded weakly.

"I cannot convince you with words that I wouldn't hurt you, but I can drive you home, and then you will see for yourself that I meant no harm, but you have to listen to the voice in your heart." Paul reached over once more and placed his hand on her shoulder. "How long have you been holding the pain this has caused you inside?"

"27 years," Sandy answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paul nodded as though he understood. "What this man did to you was wrong. You were a child and you were harmed very profoundly. These things I cannot take away," he paused. "I wish I could."

Sandy nodded as her fear of this man was beginning to disappear. Finally, after a few minutes passed, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, "Paul."

"Yes."

"I'm ready to go home now, will you please take me?" Sandy asked.

"Are you sure?"

She shook her head, "I don't know, but you've been very understanding and kind. Something tells me you're an honest person, so I think I can trust you."

"I know it's hard to put your trust in another person," Paul said gently. "I think everyone has been put in the same sort of situation at one time or another, right Scott?"

The teenager smiled and remembered how he had learned to trust his alien father. "Yeah, Dad," he finally said, a small smile on his face.

Sandy nodded. She finally started realizing her luck of running into the two of them on this cold Christmas-Eve.

* * *

Tess, Monica and Andrew were standing off to the side, invisible to the three of them. "So how's he doing, Tess?" Monica finally asked.

"He's doing very well," Tess replied. "I'm surprised that he's come this far without his powers,"

"What do you mean?" Monica asked.

"Just what I said, Miss Wings, he's just like a normal person now. He can't use his abilities, and he can't use his sphere. All the things he has done here is because he has followed his heart," Tess answered.

"You mean, he's as mortal as Sandy now?" Andrew asked and once Tess nodded, he continued, "Doesn't that pose a danger to him or his son? They're being chased by the government, aren't they?"

"Now, don't go loosing your temper on me, Angel Boy," Tess replied. "Paul will have everything he came in with when he and his son leave."

"Why did God decide to take his power away?" Monica asked.

"You shouldn't question what God does, Miss Wings, but I'll tell you why. Paul Forrester has to learn that the power he possesses in his heart is much stronger than the alien abilities he has," Tess answered.

"And God wants Paul to understand and acknowledge the positive effect that he has on others without always having to use the sphere to accomplish this," Monica said and once Tess nodded, she had a feeling of understanding overcome her. She glanced over towards Andrew, "But, I have one more question, who is your assignment, Andrew?"

The Angel of Death shook his head, "I don't know yet, God sent me because something else is supposed to happen here before midnight."

"Tess, do you know anything about this?" Monica asked, her concern for Paul quite evident in her question.

The older angel shook her head, "no, and I have a feeling that we're going to have to wait and see what will happen." The three angels disappeared.

* * *

Paul, Scott, and Sandy made their way in the direction of the door, but before they could get outside, a man rushed inside the restaurant. His face was covered with a ski mask and the silver handgun could be seen in his gloved hand. Two other thieves charged inside after him, and were blocking the door preventing the three of them from leaving the small café.

Sandy backed quickly away from Paul upon seeing the gun, and hearing the snarling voice of one of the men, "don't move, this is a hold-up!"

Not listening to the man's demands, Sandy backed away from them and towards a wall. Her heartbeat was racing and her eyes were on the three robbers who were standing on the opposite side of the restaurant. Her eyes locked with the hazel eyes of one of the robbers, but she was too afraid to move.

During this time, Paul stood in front of his son, with the effort of preventing injury from coming to his son. "Why are you doing this?" he asked the robber with hazel eyes.

The robber looked at him, shrugged his shoulders as the other man approached where Sandy was sitting on the floor against the wall. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Are we all alone on Christmas-Eve? What a pity!" He ran his hand against Sandy's cheek and laughed.

Sandy's blood went cold, and she moved her face away from the touch of the man's hand.

"Come off it, Ty, let's just get the loot and get outta here!" the second masked person spoke, the voice of a gruff sounding woman emerging.

The hazel eyed robber was still looking around the room and it was apparent that he was simply not sure what to do next. His eyes eventually fell on the woman hunched against the wall. She had started crying and the robber walked over to where she was sitting.

Crouching down, a soft masculine voice addressed Sandy, "don't be afraid, no one's going to hurt you. I won't let Ty do anything to you, I promise."

She looked up and could see the gentle eyes of the robber. "What do you want from us? It's Christmas-Eve, you should be home with your family, not doing this."

The man nodded, stood up, and made his way back over to the door.

Paul was still standing in the middle of the dining room and was watching two of the three robbers tearing apart the old-fashioned café. He reached inside his pocket to retrieve his sphere, but upon feeling the cold silver object, he realized that he was as helpless as Sandy.

He quickly looked around the restaurant hoping to see Monica, Tess or the man he had seen with them earlier, but no one was there except the three robbers, Sandy, Scott and himself. He sighed deeply, and realized that his hands were shaking with the fear that had suddenly overcome him. Without his abilities, he wouldn't be able to protect himself or his son if one of the robbers decided to actually use the weapons they carried.

He turned around and faced his son. Scott's eyes were wide, but he looked confidently at his father and said nothing.

By this time, the woman had ripped the radio from the wall, the man called Ty was standing at the glass case and had taken the hammer of the gun and shattered the glass with it. He pulled a box out from the splinters of glass and blew off the fragments of glass.

The woman had, by this time, opened the cash register and had started pulling out handfuls of bills. She smiled wickedly as she stuffed the money in her pocket, grabbed the radio, and ran towards the door. "Come on, Ty, Daniel, it's time to get out of here."

Ty tossed the box away, and followed the woman. After a few minutes, he stopped, and turned to face the woman hunched in the corner. He walked over to her, grabbed her hand and pulled her off the floor, "you're coming with us."

Sandy screamed as the man roughly pulled her towards the door. Her feet were sliding across the linoleum floor, and her eyes were clamped shut as the man was forcing her to come along.

"Wait, if you want to take a hostage, then take me," Paul spoke above Sandy's screaming.

"Me too," Scott called out as well.

"No, Scott," Paul said softly to his son, "I won't let you do this."

"Dad, I have to, I don't want to be separated from you. It's bad enough not being with Mom, but without you, life isn't the same," Scott said urgently. "Please, don't go alone with them. You've tried to help everyone else for the last year, and the only time you let someone help you was when you were sick. Now I want to help, don't push me away, please."

Paul turned back towards the three robbers. "Leave Sandy, we'll come, if you have to take hostages."

Ty didn't release Sandy, instead of taking Paul and Scott, he picked the frightened young woman up off the floor and started towards the door as she struggled in his arms. Paul and Scott had started running towards Ty, but before they could do anything to help Sandy, the man called Daniel ran over to them and grabbed her hand and pulled until the man released her and she slumped to the floor.

"You got what you want, now get out of here, Ty." Daniel said as he helped Sandy sit down at a nearby table.

"And what about you?" Ty sneered.

"This kind of life isn't for me, you've known that all along," Daniel said and he pulled the ski mask from his head and threw it at Ty. Under the mask was a man who was about 35 years old, with light hair and those piercing hazel eyes. He threw the gun away and stood in the doorway as he watched the woman get into the truck and was starting the engine. "You'd better go, Ty before Miranda takes off without you," he said softly.

"So, let me get this straight, you've become a do-gooder on us," Ty said still holding his gun firmly in his hand. "Next thing we know, you're gonna go to the cops and tell them about our little heist."

"I'm not going to say anything, Ty, and if being a do-gooder means that I don't steal money on Christmas-Eve, then I guess I am one. Why don't you just leave and don't do anything stupid, these people don't deserve to die, not now, not on Christmas," Daniel said.

Ty cocked his weapon and looked at Daniel, "OK, you win, I won't hurt any of them." He aimed the gun at Daniel, "but, I'll have you know I don't take kindly to traitors." With his eyes gleaming, he pressed the trigger and the gun fired. Without thinking, Paul ran across the room, and pushed Daniel to the ground as the shot rang out.

Paul collapsed onto the floor in a pool of blood as Daniel got up off the floor.

"Dad!" Scott screamed after the gun fired. He could feel the hot tears began to stream down his cheeks once he saw his father tackle the guy called Daniel. He ran over to his father had been standing, the blood on the floor near where Paul was now lying. The blue shirt he wore was covered with blood near the collar and Scott could only watch in complete horror as his father crumpled to a heap on the floor.

Daniel appeared to be uninjured, as he was able to crawl away from Paul's body and stand up. Sighing sadly, he looked down at the man who had just saved his life.

Scott was at this moment, hysterical, he wanted more than anything to run and tackle Ty, but a man he had never seen before had a gentle hold on his arm and this slight pressure was enough to hold him back.

The gentle touch of the man somehow left a calming effect on him, and he could somehow sense that there was something absolutely miraculous about this man. He turned around and was face to face with Andrew.

Ty dropped the gun right after it fired, ran outside, dove in the back of the truck, and the woman drove off in the direction of the interstate.

* * *

Once Ty was gone, Andrew released Scott's arm and the teenager got down on the floor next to his father, "Dad," he sobbed still looking down at his father's still body. He was still crying, but held his sphere tightly in his hand.

Andrew watched from where he was standing as the boy poured out his heart to his father. "Please, you can't die, not like this. Dad, please don't die and leave me here all alone, I can't live without you!" The metal sphere fell out of his hand and rolled against his father's limp body. He rested his head against the chest of his father, some of the blood from Paul's wound getting into his short dark hair but he didn't care, he continued to cry bitterly his eyes only on his father.

He kept hoping and praying that his father's hand would move and would come to rest on his head as he laid it against Paul's chest, but nothing happened and his cries grew louder as he came to the horrible realization that his father had died right there in front of him. The reality of this was too much for him and he began to scream, agony edging his words, "Please, don't die, Dad. I love you, I need you!"

Sandy watched, captivated as Daniel approached where Scott was on the floor. He looked down at the body of the man who had saved his life, swallowed the lump in his throat, and looked at Sandy helplessly. Moments later, Tess emerged from the kitchen and offered her hand to the two of them and led them out of the dining room.

"Scott," Andrew approached the distraught teenager after some time had passed. "Your father will be OK."

The teenager looked up into the eyes of the man he didn't know. Before he could speak, Monica appeared from out of nowhere and put her arms around Scott's shoulders in an effort to comfort the boy. Her soft hair fell over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. For some reason, he stopped crying and looked at Andrew strangely from his vintage point on the floor.

"How do you know?" Scott asked still in the sanctity of Monica's embrace.

"Andrew and I are angels, Scott," Monica said, and Andrew nodded.

"Angels? You mean like with wings, halos, and harps?" Scott looked up at them, his face was still streaked with tears, but his conscious told him that he should believe their words.

"Something like that," Monica said smiling at Scott.

"Do you believe in angels, Scott," Andrew asked.

"I have an Extra Terrestrial for a father, what do you think? Yeah, I guess I believe in you, you're here." Scott answered. "Can you do something to help him, he's all I got?"

"I know, Scott and I'm sorry, but we can't do anything for him," Monica said softly, "but, you can."

"You mean, with the sphere?"

Andrew smiled, "you're a very special person, Scott. You have inherited something from both your parents. Your father has given you some talents which are unique to his people, and your mother has given you talents unique to her people."

Scott looked at the two angels and picked up the sphere once again. "Can I ask you a question?"

When no answer came, he looked up. Both Monica and Andrew were gone. "So much for trying to work incognito," he mumbled and looked down at his father. Paul was still lying on the floor, his eyes closed and the jagged wound of the gunshot near his collarbone. Scott closed his eyes for a second, "God," he began to pray, "I know I don't always ask you for guidance, but I thank you for sending Monica and Andrew to us this Christmas."

He opened his eyes and began to concentrate on the object in his hand, and as he looked down at the wound, he visualized it disappearing through the sphere's power. Once the wound closed up and vanished, he allowed the blue light to fade and looked down at his father.

After some time, Paul's eyes began to open and he was looking up at his son. "Scott, you're here," he said weakly, the experience of being shot had clearly drained his energy.

"Dad, I'm so glad you're OK. I don't know what I would have done without you!"

Tess, Sandy, and Daniel came out of the kitchen at this moment, and Tess looked down at Paul. "Good to see you again, Paul."

"Thank you, Tess," Paul said as he sat up.

Sandy looked at Paul and then back at Tess. "What happened?" She finally managed to ask.

"That's what I want to know," Daniel offered. "You took a bullet for me."

Paul shrugged his shoulders. "We're both OK, Daniel," was all he said.

"You saved my life," Daniel said softly and looked at Paul with appreciation in his voice. "I don't even know who you are."

"I'm just a friend, Daniel, nothing more," Paul answered.

"What's going to happen to me?" Daniel looked around the room, everyone could see that he was afraid. "I didn't want to hurt anyone, I swear."

Monica approached the distraught man. "We all know, Daniel, and you have learned from your mistakes, but I would like to ask you a question. What made you change your mind about robbing this restaurant?"

"He did," he said softly pointing to Paul. After a short pause, he turned to face Paul. "I remember when we came in, you looked at me and I had a feeling that there was more that you understood about me than I realized. Does that make sense?"

Paul smiled weakly, nodded, but said nothing.

"Then you saved my life, and I had always thought that my life wasn't worth it."

"All life has merit," Paul said. "Yours as well."

"But there's so much that I don't understand about tonight," Daniel offered.

"I have a feeling that there are a lot of things that just cannot be explained," Sandy broke her own silence. "They just have to be accepted."

Monica smiled and nodded towards Tess, who had walked over and was standing next to her. "Has Paul accomplished everything he needed to, Tess?" She whispered to the other angel

"Yes, he has," was all Tess said. The older of the three angels approached Paul and tapped his shoulder.

Once he turned around, he smiled when he met the dark eyes of the angel. "Tess, thank you."

"You did everything you were supposed to, how do you feel?" She asked him.

"More human," he smiled weakly.

"Then you know now that the impact you have on others doesn't entirely come from your people, but also your son's people," she said smiling.

"I won't forget," Paul answered.

"Paul, do you know now what an angel is?" Tess asked.

"Yes, a friend," he said softly.

Tess nodded slightly and disappeared.

Paul smiled and looked over at his son. "Scott, are you ready to go now?"

"Dad, look, it's midnight!" Scott pointed to a clock on the wall of the small diner. The four of them looked at the clock. "Merry Christmas!"

Sandy sighed sadly. "Yeah, Merry Christmas."

"Scott, if we leave now, we should reach Buffalo by morning, right? It's about three hours away, right?" Paul said.

The teenager nodded.

"You mean you still want to drive me there, even after everything that has happened?"

Paul nodded and smiled.

"Listen," Daniel said softly. "I know you guys probably don't want to go anywhere with me, but I don't have a way back into town. Can you give me a ride, too?"

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Sandy asked.

Daniel shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, my father and I usually celebrate Christmas together."

Sandy nodded and looked at Paul. "Please let him come, no one should be alone on Christmas."

Paul nodded and the four of them left the café together. Paul glanced back at the restaurant and smiled slightly, this night he would never forget. He dug inside his pocket and when he felt the sphere, he knew his power was back, and he had learned that a power of the heart surpasses anything else he possesses. He put his arm around his son's shoulders and they walked out to the car.

As they did, a dove flew over their heads.

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