.It's What's Inside That Counts

“Maffamon, seriously, I can’t do this,” the fairy said. She paced along the edge of the shelf, wand held to the side of her head. She held the handle to her ear and spoke into the ruby-red tip.

“No. No. You should see this. I’m going to need insulin after just being here.” She glanced at the happy, smiling faces and then away. “The tooth fairy would go into a diabetic coma here.” She paused, tapping her foot.

Michael was amazed to note that she’d paced a few inches beyond the edge and was standing on nothing butair. Whispered comments raced through the community of figurines.

The hopeful offered “I believe in miracles,” while the less optimistic countered with “I believe in the old rugged cross.” Michael wasn’t sure that they weren’t the same, in the end. If God made everything, God made the fairy, and ultimately, God’s plan was-

“I know the mission statement,” she shouted into the wand. “True Love, yeah, capital letters and everything.” She rolled her eyes as she listened a moment longer. “Well, how ‘true’ can it be in a rack of porcelain proverbs? Okay, okay, I’ll look into it, but I’m telling you there must have been a mistake.”

She twirled the wand in one hand and the spark changed from red to blue. The light led her directly to Michael where she stood for a moment, looking down on him.

“Okay, listen up, you wide-eyed cliché, just so we understand each other. This is not a kid’s video or a Saturday Morning cartoon. I am a professional. I am not a misfit, this is not my last chance to move up to Angel. I will not cut corners or look away or fail to report to my superiors out of a fear that I’m going to lose out on something here.” She tapped his forehead with the wand for emphasis.

“I am also not the number-one hot-running perfect-reputation fairy in my office. I won’t be doing you illegal favors in a desperate bid to maintain that reputation.” She leaned over to bring her face down towards his own.

“I am good at my job, so I will do my job. If you have a problem with that, or with me, or with anything I do, you will end your days as a paperweight in a morgue if I have anything to say about it. ‘Kay? So I’m going to wave my wand, you’re going to come to life, and we’ll work out the reason I’m here. You’re going to choose your first words very carefully, so you don’t tick me off, so I don’t dismiss you as an aphorism made material.”

She sketched a series of strokes over his head, sparkly light hanging in the air. Then she tapped his bow tie. He felt tingles rush from his head down into his body. His arms and legs felt loose and he shook them. Thrills ran up and down his spine as he actually came to life.

Michael looked up and faced the fairy, meeting her gaze frankly and without fear. He opened his mouth and said, “Trust in the Lord.”

The snark popped off of her expression like a soap bubble. She dropped to her butt, sitting on the shelf. The position made their eyes almost even. He smiled at her, she smiled softly back.

“That’s…that’s right,” she said. “That’s what I say. When people think the hierarchy only goes down as far as Angels. They don’t think one of the Fae could be working for…”

“All things sing his praise,” he replied.

“Ain’t that the truth,” she smiled. The purple woman tucked her legs in to sit more comfortably and extended a hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Tiddly.”

“Best Man,” he said as he took her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Best Man.” They shook, then she cupped her face in her hands, elbows on her knees. “You got a real name, Best Man?” Michael shrugged. He pointed at the far wall, at another company’s set of angel figurines. She followed his aim.

“Oh. Gabriel? Your name is Gabriel?”

“Keep looking up,” he answered. She glanced at him oddly, then started naming the figures. When he jumped up and shouted “Halleluiah,” she understood.

“Okay, Michael. You’re a little weird, aren’t you?” she asked teasingly.

“Nobody’s perfect,” he agreed. She giggled.

“Okay, okay. So, you’re so deeply in love, True Love, that my boss’ boss’ boss heard about it.” She pointed over her shoulder to the angel figures. Michael’s eyes went wide. Behind him, he half heard whispers of amazement running through the figurines. Tiddly was looking over his shoulder, scanning the wedding crowd. Could she hear them talk?

“Well, Michael, who’s the lucky lady?” He pointed past her shoulder. She turned and bent over to sight along his arm. “Ooooh, she’s pretty,” she whispered. “A little out of your league, maybe?”

“Our love was meant to be,” he said firmly, “happy anniversary.”

“Well, okay,” she shrugged. “Let’s go see.” She stepped towards the edge of the shelf, Michael running alongside. “You get animated freely. She gets animated. You get one wish. Then I’m done.”

She stepped off the shelf and did her walking-on-air thing again. Michael skidded to a stop, arms waving frantically to keep from tipping over the ledge.

Tiddly looked back impatiently. He raised his arms. “It’s so uplifting to have a friend like you?” he asked.