The Language of Angels (Closed for Vail_Indigo)

[Vail_Indigo]

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you KNOW we're coming back to that 'big gun' thing right? Hardly Angel-esque," I replied.

Apparently I was suddenly an expert on Angels. I was glad her view of reality and belief systems seemed reasonably in synch with mine. I certainly knew at least one Mesopotamian Godbeing who would have been offended.

"I don't want to sound cliche of anything, but I'm not sure there is anything but the mission. Its not just that I've never been offered another path, and I'm even fairly certain i could go 'on the lamb', as it were, if I wanted to. I doubt they'd ever find me," though I wasn't certain, "The thing is, I was born for this. It's an incredibly important job, for the entire world, maybe reality itself. Plus, I'm a weapon. A really, really good weapon. Add all that up, you kind of stop thinking about options that don't really exist. What else am I going to do?"

Though, suddenly, I was seeing myself spending the rest of my life dancing and swimming and maybe mountain climbing, and I've always wanted to learn how to surf, maybe after a few good heists.

I don't know if it was just my intuitive/extrapolatives kicking in for fun, or if it was her and the smile that I saw when I called her beautiful. Or maybe it was the urge I had to touch those secret muscles along her collarbone.

"You? I mean, are you always running around doing Angel things and busting up smuggling rings? Or do you have a life away from the wings? Also, I used a whole lot of 'ings' words there."

 

[Vixandra]

I gave a quirky grin over her response to the "big gun thing." It was the usual response to my Soul Weapon. "Sure."

Then she asked if I had a life out side the wings. "'ing words are good. Lots of good 'ing words. Like running, hugging..." I trailed off before I could add kissing, touching, caressing, holding. Bit too sappy. "Of course, I have a life outside the wings. I accepted this investigation job but I have hobbies, friends, things I do for the sheer joy of it."

The waitress came by and asked if we needed anything. I ordered a slice of tres leches cake and she went off again.

"I paint, for one thing. In high school and college I was on dance team and choreographed a few award winning numbers. Never have seen the dean turn so red as when we did my dance for Shakin' Hands' by Nickelback."

We'd also nearly started a riot at the same performance. Sexual energy, horny college students and the day after finals are done... probably should have done something different for that pep rally. It had made the local news, much to my grand'mere's dismay. She'd been less then pleased with me until I showed her the moves. We'd scared a few people because she looks like my twin instead of my grandmother.

"My grand'mere and I are pretty close, that whole 'non-aging' thing keeps her young at heart," I said, smiling over the memory. It was easy to smile around Laura. "Hmm... what else do I do? Got into kickboxing last year, that's a lot of fun. Have to keep up on the cardio when I can't fly regularly. Living in the city has its drawbacks. Oh, I also test new suits for a techno-mancer friend of mine. He's almost got a suit that can hide me in flight done. Just needs a few more tweaks."

My cake arrived and the waitress sauntered off to take a round of beer to a loud table on the other side of the restaurant. "I lead a partly normal life, with spectacular parts thrown in to keep me on my toes. I've dated in the past, but no attachment these days. Friends in Texas and San Francisco, a few overseas that I want to go visit in a year or so."

I took a bite of cake and almost did the "happy cake dance." It was real, with the right amount of sauce to cake ratio, sweet to creamy. I felt bad for women so worried about their figure they never ordered dessert.

"Now, what to ask you," I mused aloud. "Ah, yes. What job are you on here?"

 

[Vail_Indigo]

"You have...I mean...a life," I said in a voice that was sadder than I'd realized. I love what I do, but the idea of being a non-human, and for this conversation, I really was, having abilities, powers, skills that most people dream of having, of having a mission, a quest, but also a life...

"You have friends and all that? With normal people?" I began to feel myself about to babble, but turned that energy towards her question.

Well, I tried to. No small amount of my concentration was locked onto watching her eat dessert. It was like...beautiful porn.

"I'm here for similar reasons, I suppose. There are things and places and people that need to be watched, controlled. And not in a UN inspector sort of way. These things threaten reality, or close enough. So I go get them, bring them back, or render them inert. These guys we're working for right now seem to be leaning in the direction of moving these sorts of relics and such. I'm here to find them all, figure out where they are finding them, and take care of the situation."

It was close enough. Actually, probably more than close enough as I replayed my little monologue in my head.

"I'm thinking our goals probably overlap quite a bit. Maybe this is 'The Team Up You Demanded!'" I said in my best melodramatic voice.

I know know know I was blushing when I asked my question.
"So, do you want to be partners?"

 

[Vixandra]

The sadness in her voice when she said I had a life, like it was something she'd never known she wanted until today, made me want to cry. I didn't, that would have been silly, but such sorrow...

"Yes, I have 'normal' and way out the norm friends," I answered. "Some even know what I am. Most think I'm just a Celestkin, a child who doesn't know who her parents were. Most of those descended from Angels are foundlings left with supernatural families. Grand'mere and my mother were the rare cases of females who kept their young. The only other two Celestkin, those descended from the 'good' side of a pantheon, were orphans."

I took another bite of cake and could feel her watching me, watching my lips and tongue as I licked the delicate sauce of the tines of the fork. She spoke of her overall job directives, and what she was looking into Angel Inc for specifically. Then she said something I didn't expect. While blushing a beautiful shade of rose.

"Team up," I repeated. "Partners, huh? I... I've never had a partner. Allies yes but never a partner."

There was a wistful quality to my voice, I couldn't help it. You could replace allies with lovers and the statement would still be the same. A partner, an equal by my side, at my back, that was the stuff of longings. I looked at her and took the proverbial leap of faith (my wings wouldn't save me if she failed either of us).

I held out my hand across the table. "Partners it is, Laura."

 

[Vail_Indigo]

I didn't know where the 'partner' thing had come from. I'd always worked alone, had assumed I always would. In fact, its how I'd preferred it.
But here I am with this powerful, beautiful woman and suddenly I'm all Superman and Batman?

OK, sure, I guess I knew where it came from.

And it was a little embarrassing, behaving like a love struck girl in a romantic comedy (my life was controlled, but they wanted me to have a decent knowledge of pop culture, of course).

But I couldn't accept the offered hand, just yet.

"Um, so, I have to confess, 'Laura' is just my cover. My real name is Aella," and with that, I took her hand in mine.

"Partner."

 

[Vixandra]

"Aella," I said, tasting the word as it passed through my lips. "That's pretty. It means 'whirlwind' right?"

The waitress appeared with the check while we were holding each other's hands across the table. She had a slightly bewildered look on her face for a moment before giving a big smile and laying down the check.

I slipped my hand from Aella's and pulled my wallet out of the back pocket in my skirt. It was cut in such a way the pocket didn't show unless you knew where it was. Carrying a purse was... problematic for me. I tended to forget them. Like my briefcase... back at the office.

I pulled a black card out of the slim wallet and slipped it into the little pseudo-leather receipt holder.

"Well, we're done with for for the day and I need to go do some stretching otherwise I'll pay for today's fun later," I said with an inviting smile. "I know you're still curious, want to come over to my 'little' apartment?"

 

[Vail_Indigo]

It would appear that being an Angel paid pretty damn well. I had a slew of cards with high limits, and so I seldom used black. It was too noteworthy.

I was really beginning to doubt my ability to understand the signals I was or wasn't receiving. This was, to say the least, new territory for me. I thought. Maybe I was completely wrong and the only thing new here was in my head. I'm good at social interactions as my professional self. My personal self has all the skills of a junior high student. Well, so I'm told.

I glanced out the window. It was getting dark.

"I'd love to. I know a lot of stretches and such, and whatever kinks you need worked out, I should be able to help. With the caveat that I've never worked on a body sore from spawning wings. But I can only stay for a little bit. I have to go on,' I brought my hand up to my brow as I realized how stupid it was going to sound saying it out loud, " patrol. Wow, that actually sounded even worse than I feared."

I let myself laugh at it, though. Of course, 'patrol' was the nice way of putting it. 'Patrol' wasn't at all what it was. But I didn't know a single thing about the morality of an Angel. All I knew is that Sophia had a task. Me? I had a mission. On bad days, I called it a war.

"But it can wait a while."
I blushed.
"Take me home."

 

[Vixandra]

Patrol, I thought to myself wonderingly. She watched over the city in the dark, too?

I wanted to stroke my hand over her blushing cheek so badly it was almost painful. I forced the urge down and signed the check instead, leaving a very generous tip.

"Its a bit of a walk or we can hail a taxi," I said as we stepped outside. She shrugged noncommittally and I smiled. "Walking it is."

The idea of being cramped inside of a taxi made me shudder. I wasn't exactly claustrophobic, but small spaces weren't my favorite things. I could handle cars but I drove a beefed up, Army Surplus Hummer for a reason. It was huge, inside and out. The roll bars on top also meant I could grab onto it from the air.

We moved through the crowds, her at my side. It felt right for her to be there. Like something had been missing. But I... I was a one woman ass kicking machine. I'd never needed a partner before. But...

"What are you patrolling for?"

 

[Vail_Indigo]

"Well, 'patrolling' is what They call it."

I wasn't sure how much I could tell her. Partly.

But when her hand would brush mine, doubt vanished, at least for a moment.
Yes. I am well aware that physical contact does not a good polygraph make.

"Organizations like this one often end up handling a number or objects of interest, and being able to secure these things before, say, they get put in a high security vault or, worse, used is something of a priority. I'm often on the go, rapid strike, go in and get the thing and get the fuck out. But when I'm infiltrating, They like me to try and keep an eye out for any way I can head things off at the pass."

I really really really wanted to hold her hand.

"So, I have a pretty nifty camera that sends images instantly back to be reviewed by smarter and more perceptive eyes than mine."

Which was a lie, to a degree. At least the 'more perceptive' part.

"I hang out at the docks, freight train stations, things like that. Once in a blue moon, I get a 'go' order and take care of things. Its very heroic and very glamorous."

I hated saying these things, even though I tried to make a joke or two. Every word was saying 'here is just how different our lives are'. It felt like distance was opening up between us. It felt lonely.

 

[Vixandra]

We stopped at a cross walk with people bunching around us. When I moved closer, our hands brushed. It was the most natural thing in the world to let our fingers curl together. I barely realized it had happened until we were crossing the street together, her warm hand in mine. It was darkening rapidly but she could probably see my blush with those special eyes of hers.

She spoke of lone patrols, the rare go order, and glamor of all things. It sounded very solitary. To me, it sounded very lonely. Even when I'd been doing things for the Council of Angels or moonlighting for the company Grand'mere worked for, I was never without backup if I needed it. I did solo missions, I did missions as someone's second, but I don't think I'd ever been alone as Aella sounded.

We were still holding hands when we came up to my building.

“Welcome to my humble home,” I said with a smile. Though “humble” may have been the wrong word. Grand’Mere was a bit of a real estate maven. She owned buildings up and down the Pacific coast and all along the Ring of Fire. The building I had taken residence in was one she had given me as a graduation present. Some families gave cars, mine gave entire buildings.

My apartment took up the entire top floor of the building. The lower floors, all twenty-four of them, held four apartments each, but the top floor held only one. It was accessible with a special key card from the elevator. The building’s stairs also had an exit on the floor but it was sealed by both spells and concrete. I had to let go of her hand to fish the key card out of my wallet and it felt like a loss.

I hit the light switch, illuminating my entry way. A small alter stood in the foyer beside a marble statue of the Madonna and child. I smiled at the statue out of habit and because it pleased me to look at. I’d met the Madonna, the real one, not the singer and she was an amazing saint.

The other side of my entry way was taken up by a pair of benches with shoe cubbies and slippers in it. I sat on one of the benches and pulled my leg up to unbuckle the delicate heels I wore. I could feel her eyes on me as I slipped both of them off.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I told her. Her gaze alternated between me and the room around us, taking in every detail, every tiny piece of information. I tucked the heels into one of the cubbies and stood. My suit jacket was shrugged off and hung on a hook on the wall. I’d take it to the dry-cleaners later. “I don’t wear shoes at home if I don’t have to.”

I led the way deeper into the apartment. Boxes were piled in the living room and kitchen, easily visible as we passed. I hadn’t had time to unpack everything yet. Of the two rooms that were completely unpacked, I showed her the largest, my atrium. It took up the southern half of the top floor and was paneled in bullet-proof, earthquake proof glass. Foliage filled the perimeter of the room, from the herb garden in one area to miniature trees, rose bushes, stargazers, and a plethora of other flora. Between the plants and the heavy duty air filters of the building, the air here was fresh and crisp.

I inhaled deeply, tasting the air, tasting her on the air. I exhaled, relaxing, grounding myself as I stood in the center of the atrium. “You seemed curious about the whole wing thing earlier,” I said, kneeling. “They’re actually part of a second form for me. Not this one.”

I laid a hand on my chest. “This body is human, with the same limitations. Physiological effects, like a sprained muscle or broken bones, can transfer between the two forms if severe enough but usually the change heals. My other form, the angelic one, is the form I was born to. In times of stress or trauma, I revert back to it unless I have the willpower not to.”

I knelt down to one knee on the floor, my skirt riding high enough to show the lacy tops of my thigh-highs. My head leaned forward as I let go, welcomed the change in form with gentle whispers through my soul. Unlike the abrupt, near violent, change in the artifact room, this change was a slower, gentler one. Gleaming, my hair seemed to dissolve into a riot of curls around the nape of my neck. Muscles rewove themselves as my bones grew lighter. The flesh of my back parted enough to reveal feathery wings that unfolded slowly. Their color was that of rich, loamy soil soaked in blood, showing that I was an angel of Earthly origins, not Heavenly ones.

A sigh escaped my lips as I extended them to my full span, a full eighteen feet from wingtip to wingtip. The color shifted through my feather, growing a richer red the closer to the edges. My primaries were a deep garnet shot through with ebony. The secondaries were ebony shot with garnet. My coverts, the smaller feathers along the top, were that rich ebony/garnet mix. I loved my wings, the feel of them released from their fleshy prison, how they looked in the last rays of sunlight streaming through the glass ceiling of the atrium.

I loved the look on her face, the way her hands clenched at her sides. I chuckled and held out my hand to her again. “You can touch me if you want to, Aella.”

 

[Vail_Indigo]

In most situations, I would have had real problems here. An 18 foot wingspan on a person is one thing (and, please, take a moment to reflect on the fact that this isn't the odd part). Those same wings being concealed inside a woman's torso, well, you tell me if that makes and sense.

But it didn't matter. Not here and now.

She wasn't human.
She was so much more.

My eyes wandered the edge of her wings, saw patterns in the dark, rich colors, almost words. It was hard to tell if what I was seeing was 'real' or simply my processing algorithms interpreting.

But it didn't matter. Not here and now.

I moved to them, reaching out to touch with my fingertips, caressing the top edge as I walked the length of one, then behind. I saw the places they connected to her bones and muscles, places my lips had touched only a few hours ago.

My hand found the place between them, flat on her back, feeling the rise and fall of her breath, a strange realness. I wouldn't have thought Angels would breathe. I didn't realize that my other hand was stroking her feathers, playing with them, almost.

I traced the other wingspan to complete my circle of her.

And there I was again, staring into eyes that simply held me without effort, one hand splayed along her neck, caressing her cheek, the other dancing with her feathers. An Angel, kneeling before me.

I went down gracefully onto my knees, my skirt rising as I did. The flirtations of earlier seemed so silly now, so pointless.

I knew that, whatever she wanted of me, she could have. A lifetime of training, of indoctrination, split apart and I was simply a girl faced with a beauty I couldn't dream of turning away from.

“Sophia,” I heard my voice, heard it stop.

I'd kissed, of course. I'd fucked. But it was all business, all mission. All fake.
How do you ask for your first kiss?
What would it mean if she said 'no'?
What would it feel like if she said 'yes' and later broke my heart?
What does that mean?

“Please, please kiss me,” I heard my voice.

 

[Vixandra]

It was a hard fight not to shiver under that exploring caress. I hadn't shown many people who I was, what I was under that semi-polished human sheath I hid behind for so much of the time.

There was a tension that built in the air as she finished her circle, careful to not bump into me. The sun's last rays disappeared before she finished, leaving us in an intimate darkness.

I could see her clearly as she knelt in front of me but I did not expect the words that fell from her lips. “Please, please kiss me."

Who could resist such a request? From what she'd said, it sounded as if her whole life was at the beck and call of others. Their demands mattered, not her wants or needs. And yet she asked such a small thing of me.

Resistance was futile.

I leaned into her, eyes glued to hers. My hands came up to cup her face gently as I placed my lips against hers. It was... magical, for lack of a better word. A shifting of paradigms that I wasn't sure of the ramifications.

I pulled back, keeping that first kiss innocent. My hand smoothed through her hair, a smile on my lips that I knew she could see.

"I wouldn't want to keep you from your patrol," I whispered in the darkness. "But I'm afraid I might if I kiss you much further."

 

[Vail_Indigo]

There might be words to describe what it felt like when her lips touched mine. There might be, but I don't have them.
I can tell you this much, though. I can still remember it perfectly. I remember how soft her lips were, and how I could feel a strange strength underneath them. I can remember the fingers of my left hand trembling just before we touched. I can remember the scent of her, and the taste of her breath. I can remember the sense of loss when she pulled away.
I can live through those far-too-short moments again and again. They are a deep and profound part of me.
I try not to remember the urge to bang my head against something very very hard when she, I'm sure jokingly, mentioned with 'P' word.

"God dammit," I muttered, and had to wonder if I'd just offended her. My eyes met her's, pleadingly.
"I'm sorry, I do, but it won't be long. Just a couple hours maybe,"
I was on my feet, backing away slowly, though I don't know why. How angry could she get? She's the one who brought it up? And why was I thinking she'd get angry?

"If...if you want, I always end on the Rand Tower. I'm not really looking for anything there, I just like the ledge on the 50th floor. You get an amazing view of the city. You know, if you wanted to join me. I'll probably be the only one there," I tried making a joke as I slipped out the door without waiting for a response.

Outside I knew that the rooftops for the buildings were positioned well for me to leap from one to the other and get home faster, but these were Louboutin shoes and cost more than some people make in a month, and while I could take them off, the Wolfords aren't exactly cheap either. A cab ride got me home fast enough.

As I undressed in my apartment, I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck I was doing with my life. This wasn't something that came up very often. I'm not saying I never had to deal with any existential crap, but I guess I tended to lose myself in the work.
But now...
I had been kissing an Angel. Literally. She'd knelt for me and let me touch her wings and kissed me.

I could still taste her on my lips.

But here I was, pulling on the black and blue leathers...boots, pants, undergear, gloves, the collared jacket turned up, the scarf that covered my nose and mouth and neck.

My second skin.

I could still taste her on my lips.

The standard tools were hidden in my belt and a couple of pockets, I grabbed something like a manriki-gusari and wrapped the chain around my waist.
Just in case.
Or, just in case I was in a bad mood, which was looking more and more likely.
I glanced at myself in the mirror.
A few defensive pads were worked into the leathers, just enough that I could shift to use them defensively if I couldn't dodge, but not so many that they inhibited my movement.
Yeah, I'm perfect, but taking on 6 opponents at once, well, speed and agility were more important than just about anything else.
The fingerless gloves had strike points laced with tungstun-carbide, what battleships are made of. Even a glancing blow would hurt. Bones broke easily on a direct strike, chests caved in.

And it all felt vaguely trite.

I could still taste her on my lips as I climbed the ladder to the roof and began my run across the skyline to the docks.

 

[Vixandra]

She left with a look in her face. As if I would get mad at her for leaving to do something she had to do. As if I could be angry after such a kiss.


Two hours later, I'd finished my stretches in my atrium after locking the house down and stripping. I padded barefoot through my apartment to the hidden weapons room.

The tile floor was cool as I pulled open a locker to reveal a rack full of suits. It was a specially modified shimmer suit that would hide me from human eyes, radar, and a variety of other forms of detection. As long as it wasn't raining. For some reason, rain or massive amounts of water shorted out the system. The suit's creator, a human witch my grandmother was "friends" with, was working on a solution.

For now though, I slid into the suit, the cool material cleaving to my body like formed leather. Solid black, the suit covered me from the nape of my neck to the boots that locked into place. I'd learned the hard way that loosing a shoe in flight wasn't funny. It made landing quite uncomfortable.

I pushed the memory from my mind as I walked out to the atrium. A remote on my wrist opened the sliding panels above the atrium. Fresh sea air flooded in, bringing a smile to my lips. A leap and I was air born, wings carrying me up and away.

There's nothing quite like flying. Mind-blowing sex is a good equivalent joy, but just barely.

The moon hung like a Cheshire cat's grin over the ocean to the west as I flew toward the Rand Tower. Scowling gargoyles lined the roof of the building like some European church tower. I touched down atop a particularly gruesome one, my boots silent.

It was peaceful up there, high above the streets that still swarmed with traffic, even at this hour. I sighed, looking out on the city and spoke aloud. I didn't know if she was there, but I spoke aloud anyway.

"No wonder you come here, its beautiful."

 

[Vail_Indigo]

Patrol had been uneventful, as I’d known it would be. I was 53 kinds of pissed at myself. I hadn’t gone on patrol. I’d bolted. But the run had helped, giving into my body and letting it take charge for a while had helped, and, strangely, the intensity of missing her had helped.

I found my perch at the Rand Tower and waited.

Watching her fly was beautiful, she is an Angel after all. But watching her land on the ledge, seeing the sheer power of those wings, and the strange reality of it all, that is something entirely different. A dream becoming very very real. Almost overwhelming.

Her body was coated in something interesting, something that played fun games with my eyes, something that hugged her body exquisitely. I had to stare down at her from my perch in the shadows for just a moment longer. My Angel in black. It would not be hard to picture her with a flaming sword in her hands. Or a high caliber weapon.

I dropped silently to the ledge, just behind and to her left side. I say silently, because almost no one else in the world could have heard me. I have no doubt she did. I wasn’t trying to sneak up on her, just habit.

“It really is. I like watching the lights of the city dancing on the water with the moon or stars. Life can be too frenetic sometimes. And I thrive on that, but this grounds me.”

We stood there quietly for a while, and I reached out and stroked one of her wings. It was a natural thing to do.

I was here, with her, centered. I smiled, and in a single motion, looped the chain around her neck, pulling her to me for a kiss, just a tiny one.

“I’m sorry I ran. It won’t happen again.”

I kissed her again.

I felt the power her body contained, how it complemented my own.

I couldn’t help myself, I was practically giggling inside.

I whispered in her ear.

“Catch.”

I let go of the chain, and with a single motion, tossed myself backward into space, arms outstretched, back arching, smiling, and let gravity and momentum turn me onto my tummy.

I do so love the wind in my face.

 

[Vixandra]

I smiled as she slid a chain around my neck and kissed me. I was warm from my flight but she was hotter still. I was about to forgive her for running when she did something expected.

"Catch," she said.

Catch what, I had a chance to think before she threw herself off of the building. I was used to people having faith in my flight skills... but damn.

There was no thought, only action as I threw myself off of the building. Didn't stop my mouth from running through.

"Of all the stupid... are you insane? Did you hit your head while patrolling?"

I caught up with her by a few wing strokes and pulled her into my arms. A shifting of the angle of my wings took us in a controlled arc down and upward. My tirade worsened now that I had hold of her. "You didn't even ask if I can carry another person in flight! I mean, yeah, some species of raptor can carry up to three quarters their body weight, but why would I be able to? You are nutbar!"

My arc carried us onto the roof of a warehouse near the docks. I landed with her held close to me and pulled her tighter still as I made a sharp landing.

"You," I kissed her, "are," kiss, "nuts."

My heart was racing at the possibilities now that she was safely on firm ground. If I had missed my grip... if I'd hit a wind shear while holding her we could have both gone down. What if...

I held her tight as horrors played through my mind.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

I can’t deny that falling is a rush, a thrill you don’t get any other way. Some part of my brain was counting down towards point of no return, where if she hadn’t caught me, I was going to have to take things into my own hands.

But it didn’t get very far. My faith was well placed, and I knew it.

I think she was yelling at me but I was far too busy being lost in the moment, of just dissolving in the act of being rescued by an Angel, of her holding me in her arms as her wings...her WINGS...carried us to safety.

I think she was still talking in between kisses that made the backs of my thighs tingle and I decided something.

“You worry...and talk...too much,” and no one was more surprised at the confidence in my voice than I was.

Every insecurity I’d had vanished when she caught me, and I was free for a moment. My fingers slipping into her hair, and I brought her mouth back to mine, a kiss, slow and thorough, deep and surrendering to the need I didn’t even fully understand I’d been missing.

My other hand found the small of her back and pressed her into me, and I could feel the heat of her skin radiating through whatever strange fabric was conforming so perfectly to her curves.

Other senses told me of her heart racing, of her breath.

I let things go, let go and sunk into her, her taste and warmth and how she welcomed me and encouraged me to be me, just for once.

Our tongues danced, and someone sobbed.

 

[Vixandra]

Something changed in how she held me, noticeable only because of how she melted into me. There was only one true response to that. I welcomed her with hands, mouth, body and wings into my embrace. It was fierce and gentle, that kiss.

Through the thin material of my suit, I could feel Aella pressed against me. My wings wrapped around the both of us, an encasement of black and garnet feathers. Her deceptively delicate pressed against the small of my back and I couldn’t help nipping at her lower lip as we kissed. A purring sound of contentment escaped from me before the rest of the world intruded with the sound of sobbing from the streets below.

I retracted my wings, my mind utterly captured by the sound of heart-broken fury from the street below. It was not the broken sobbing of a victim but the infuriated sob of one wronged yet unable to retaliate. Arms still around Aella, I peered into the streets below, pinpointing on the noise. The sound of that sobbing struck the Angel’s Chord within me. A sense of being needed by one of true faith. Whether I liked it or not, I was an Earthly representation of a deity that had long ago lost interest in mankind. Arch Angels had been running the Heavenly show for the last couple of millennia and within me lay part of the drive to help those whose faith gave all of us angels’ power. If God wouldn’t tend his flock, the angels must. It was a truth I believed to the core of my being.

Three stories below us, a small, dark haired woman was crouched over a strangely shaped basket, a man in front of her holding a knife and what appeared to be a fifth of some kind of alcohol. He gestured wildly with the knife but his words were indistinguishable over the sounds of the harbor waking up for the morning. I looked at Aella in my arms and brushed her cheek with my hand.

“I have to help her,” I said. “There are very few coincidences in this life and while I have free will, I cannot ignore the pleading of a woman of true faith. I must save her. Join me if you wish or I’ll be back up in a moment.”

Below the man had thrown the bottle at the woman, striking her on the forehead and stunning her. He was reaching for her hand as the alcohol splashed down her body and into the basket. The cat-like wail of a newborn was unmistakable. That was not basket, it was a bassinet, I realized as I dove from the building. The suit I wore was replaced by the armor of the celestial host. Finely woven chainmail, a breastplate forged in the furnaces of Heaven itself and… my divine weapon… a .50 caliber machine gun. Yes, I know, most angels get divine swords, scythes, and other bladed weapons. But I am a more modern creature and guns have always been my weapon of choice. There’s just something attention grabbing about a huge gun (the mortal equivalent could take out tanks with the right rounds) held by a holy warrior.

I released a series of power lock-downs, laying down spells of anti-imagery (no photo or video evidence) and divine light. Like a spotlight from the Heavens, the man, woman and child were illuminated while I was a silhouette, wings spread wide as I landed beside the woman.

Her brown eyes were filled with confusion, terror and a fierce determination to save her child. The babe’s cries continued to fill the night as the mother sank to her knees, whispering in Spanish. It sounded like the Guardian Angel Prayer, or at least bits and pieces of it.

“Do you defend your child or another’s,” I asked voice resonant with power. She picked up the child and held it to her breast. I had to ask, for all I knew it could be the man’s child that she had stolen.

“Es mi nina,” she whispered, not looking directly at me. Her voice held awe, fear and pleading for protection. “Nos protegen de este mal hombre que nos perjudican.”

The man, apparently suddenly sobered, growled viciously at me. “I don’t know who you are, but this whore owes me money. I intend to collect. Move, bitch.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, noticing a quickly moving figure out of the corner of my eye. I was about to smile until the man pulled a gun from his filthy coat. He had barely cleared the coat before he started firing and my only thought was protecting the mother and child. I trusted in that flash of movement I’d seen to stop him as I moved to shield them from the bullets.



OOC: Sorry for the delay, it's been a rough past few weeks. Also, I don't speak Spanish, so used an online translator. If my Spanish is horrific, I apologize.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

I could have told her that this wasn’t going to be settled with words
I could have told her that the guy had a gun, his body language screamed it.
I could have told her that these kind of situations go from bad to disaster in the blink of an eye.
I could have told her all that.
If she’d waited.

But no, beautiful, powerful, graceful and fierce and the tactical mind of a soccer mom.

I sighed and watched her swoop down. It was an amazing sight to behold, even without the special effects she was make use of for the benefits of the people below. Damn but it's magical to watch a woman on divine wings.

Her armor sang to me, I swear, and I’d be a liar if I said her weapon of choice didn’t send shivers through me. All that and a glow from another world.

Fuck me.

As I was saying, there are six, maybe seven ways to deal with a situation like the one she was diving into. Absolutely none of them started with chit-chat. If the presence of a Warrior Angel didn’t put an end to the situation right then and there, it was only going to deteriorate. I didn’t think a hand gun could hurt her much, but I didn’t want to find out. Plus bullets bounce in all sorts of weird ways.

Lucky for her, I was the to cover her luscious ass. I let myself fall, silently, into the shadows behind and to one side of the man, his knife still drawn. I knew there was no way on earth that blade was going to touch my Angel, and if it did, I couldn’t imagine an earthly knife piercing divine armor.

I seem to recall smiling like an idiot watching her stand there in all her glory, and I’m pretty sure thats why it took me so long to get into position. The guy should never have had the chance to even get his hand on the gun. Thankfully, I was only a heartbeat or two behind schedule.

I began my spin as his hand drew the gun from his jacket. The only reason he got even two shots off was because his nerves had him firing the moment the weapon cleared his jacket, both shots going far wide. I moved with what has been called a determined casualness. My hand found his wrist and a thumb hard against a nerve cluster made sure he wasn’t going to pull the trigger a third time and an elbow to his temple sent him crumpling to the ground, and left the gun in my hand.

I looked down at him, knowing he was dizzy as hell but conscious.

“Mine. This is mine now. This is mine and its covered with your fingerprints and I have absolutely no doubt that, were I to hand this over to the police, they would discover that its been used in a number of other crimes. And when they come to arrest you, I will make sure that every person you’ve ever talked to, from the no-name muggers to the mob, I will make sure that they know you are turning state’s evidence. And it all that fails, if, somehow, you don’t go to jail, and you don’t get whacked, or tossed in the river, I will personally hunt you down and do things to you that will become the stuff of horror stories told to frighten children.”

To emphasize my point, I broke his little finger. I was impressed at how little he screamed.

“You have 4 hours to get the fuck out of my city before your life becomes a nightmare.”

I was also impressed with how fast he ran.

I turned my gaze back to Sophia and her charge. I like to think my eyes said something along the lines of ‘Oh, you and I are gonna have a little talk after this, sweetie.’

 

[Vixandra]

I could see the "you've got some 'splainin' to do!" look in her eyes and I did plan to do so. Later.

I pulled my wings away from the woman and child. I knew both Castillian and Mexican Spanish (there are HUGE differences) and spoke to her in the Mexican variant. "Do you have somewhere safe to go? A home?"

"No, no casa," she said, her eyes shadowed with a harsh desperation. "I was living with my husband's family until he was killed in an accident. They threw me out today, right after the funeral. Said I was bad luck and a slut, that the baby wasn't my Alejandro's.

"The man said he had a job for me... but he lied. I won't sleep with men for money! I have a Green Card, I can get a real job... but no money, no home, no safety. Everyone has abandoned me, even God."

Tears streamed down her face and I couldn't stop myself. I know I have an self-edit button inside somewhere but between the rush of angelic powers and the boost her honest prayers had given me, I couldn't activate it.

"God has not forsaken you," I told her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "As you have not forsaken Him and His Holy Host. The light you see is proof of that."

The contact with her was enough to trigger a premonition and I smiled. "You can cook, right? And you're breast feeding?"

"Si, I can cook Mexican, American, anything with a recipe," she said nodding. "I have nothing else to give the baby."

I pulled out a notebook and tiny pen from a pocket on the seam of my right hip. I wrote down a phone number and address. "Call this number, Rosa, and ask for Cara. She'll help you and you'll help her. She has a new baby too and is heartsick."

She took the paper I held out to her, eyes clouding with more tears. Before she could thank me, I laid a hand to her brow. A soft melody strummed through me as I altered her memories. She wouldn't remember who had saved her, only that her faith had brought her help. She would remember to call Cara to ask for a job. It might mean a move to Florida but that wouldn't be a problem. Rosa hadn't freaked out over an angel, so she probably wouldn't be too disrupted by a half demon and a full dragon demon. Probably.

I slipped a fifty in her purse alongside the few ones and a five she had. It would be enough for a taxi and a phone call.

I turned to Aella. "She'll wake in a few moments, call a cab, go to a hotel and call a friend of mine that is in sore need of a friendly nanny. She won't remember you or me beyond a vague idea that she was saved from something awful."

I held out my hand to my partner, shifting my weight to my back leg. The movement moved the gun on my back but I was so used to it I didn't notice. "Want to come back to my place so I can explain?"

A small portion of me was afraid she wouldn't take my hand. Would see what I had done as rash and naive, without understanding that I couldn't stand there and do nothing while one of the flock was in such danger. God may not care on a personal level anymore, but this city was my home and I would defend it any way possible.

We have that in common, my seer and I.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

Silently, with just an absent smile, I placed my hand in hers and let her lead us, well, where ever.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t thinking about exactly what I suspect she thought I was thinking about, its just that I was processing on a couple of levels.

I was upset, probably the same way she was at me for my high dive earlier. I needed to vent that so it wasn’t taking up cycles.

I needed to explain what her mistake had been, which I was pretty sure she knew, and why it hadn’t been necessary.

And I had to do both of those without sounding like some wigged out parent berating a child. This wasn’t actually an easy thing for me. My social skills, such as they are, tend towards the utilitarian. You know ‘this is how you get someone to do X’ without fully understanding why it works. Intellectually, sure, but until you really interact sincerely in that way, well, its just a mystery, just a tool.

There was also something else bothering me which only involved my Angel peripherally, but it was a bigger concern.

15 minutes into our walk, we get to the venting.

“Justbecauseyouarecompelledtodosomethingbecauseitsjustwhoyouareandtherightthingtododoesn’tmeanyoucan'tputsomethoughtintoitandmakesureyoudon’tgetshot!!!”

I huffed twice after.

I couldn’t tell if she was afraid, just startled, or about to laugh. Given the nature of my outburst, I couldn’t blame her for any of those.

“Ok, I feel better now,” I started.

Another huff.

“First,” I pulled out my special counting fingers and super special counting voice, “I understand that you needed to do that. And it was, in fact, the right thing. But had you spent half a second talking to me, we could have gone down together and the guy would never have even had a chance to pull a gun on you.

“Second,” my next counting finger, my personal favorite, “on the topic of the gun, I could have told you he had one. His body language screamed it. I don’t honestly know what a bullet would do to you, but I can’t imagine it would be very fun even if it wasn’t fatal. But more importantly, bullets do strange things, ricochet in weird, unpredictable ways. One could easily have found our little mother.

I hate the third finger. The third finger almost always means trouble.

“Third,” there it is,”You flew down on magical wings, cloaked in holy light and the armor of God, ready to deliver high caliber ordinance in a rain of heavenly destruction with your divine machine gun (very nice, by the by, I wanna play with that sometime) and put yourself between two normal people in all your, well, glory. Now, as amazing as that was to watch, and it was, why the hell didn’t both of them fall down and cower, or run away, or whatever? I don’t care how faithful you are or aren’t, that sort of event provokes a reaction, good, bad, or whatever, but definitely not ‘let us continue about our dealings’.
"Sure, some people know about meta-humans, and non-human entities and such in the world, but you can’t tell me its not still a fucking event when one drops down on you, especially one with sure powerful imagery attached. You are an archetype! I’ve done things and seen things I can’t even put words to, but you still manage to take my breath away. Those two? How did he even have the balls, or wherewithal to even pull the gun?”

I caught my breath, suddenly aware that I’d just done a braindump of my thoughts for the past 15 minutes and probably didn’t make much sense. On the plus side, it freed up cycles so my subconscious could start putting things together

“My point is, they treated you like normal. That isn’t normal. That bothers me. Something is amiss. Very amiss.”

I told you that third finger sucked.

 

[Vixandra]

I listened and let her speak until she ran down a bit. Then I went in order of her points.

"Point one, if we'd gone down together, you would have lost the element of surprise. And I admit I'm not used to working with a partner that can hold her own. In fact, I've never had to team up with someone other then another angel, so there is a learning curve here.

"Point two, yeah I figured he'd have a gun. Street thugs usually do in Texas so I don't see why that would be different here. A bullet wound would hurt me. Not as bad as a demonically charged blade, but more then a thrown icicle. Yes, I've been hit with both. Long story.

"As for the ricochet... my soul bound weapon is an anti-tank-sized gun. I'd have taken a ricochet in the wing. Wouldn't be the first time and honestly, even a .45 is a gentler experience then the one time I caught my own ricochet. Damn metal-lined tunnels. But better I take a bullet then them. I heal pretty quickly as long as the wound isn't caused by a monster, demon or devil. I'd have dealt with it.

"Lastly... I don't think I have an answer for that. There are some mortals who's determined disbelief in the divine blocks their sight so that they can't see us. From what my grandmother says, that's grown more and more common as time goes on. Without the active hand of God, human faith is slowly edging away. And if you remember, Rosa was in awe of me. But then she was praying for a Guardian Angel, which she probably thought I was. Not my normal job at all, too boring. The baby will probably carry some memory hidden within its subconcious, Rosa will remember only that she got help but not how unless Cara breaks the memory lock and you chased Mr. Shooty-pants away before I could mess with his memory.

"I don't know why Mr. Shooty didn't cower in fear. He could be a determined atheist or there could be something wrong with how I laid down the anti-recording spells to block video and camera images. Or maybe he was just that tough of an S.O.B. that he didn't feel anything over my appearance."

I mulled over that for a moment. "There is indeed something amiss with this entire situation. I wonder if the Council has gotten any other strange reports in the area."

At her quizzical look I sighed. "The Council of Balance- they keep track of divine and demonic happenings on Earth. Other meta-humans can come and go for all they care. Vampires, weres, and human magic users are tools to be used at times but otherwise ignorable to them. If there is an issue with the divine power in the area, they need to know about if they don't already. I was sent here by a friend of the family that is a Council member."

I could get in serious trouble for talking about council business with someone I wasn't mate-bonded to, but it was necessary under the circumstances. Or at least that's what I told myself.

 

[Vail_Indigo]

I'm fairly certain one eyebrow went up when i heard mention of the Council Of Balance. The Council I worked for didn't have a name other than 'The Council', but her people sounded an awful lot like mine. An organization focused on controlling and guiding forces outside of what most of the world would consider normal.

Something clicked in the back of my mind, and the tactical indiscretions my Angel had shown were forgotten. Well, for now, at least.

I leaned back against a building, crossed my arms, and let my head nod down. I retreated inwards.

Something clicked, and kept clicking, in the back of my mind. Something was fitting together. I felt part of me become devoted to replaying every encounter I'd had with The Council. Another part was rerunning my missions, and another the history, what bit I knew, of the organization as I understood it.

Something kept clicking, but it wasn't enough. Not yet at least.

But something was apparent: Where there's two, there's more.

What wasn't so clear was how much I share. I'd already gone too far, probably, but saying more, well, that was letting her into the inside of things. The workings and dangerous secrets.

On the other hand, it sounded like she was already a part of things, if the images my mind was putting together were correct.
Those images kept hinting at something else. Fucked if I knew what though.

My internal clock (which, I shit you not, is an awful lot like someone literally counting seconds) told me that an uncomfortable amount of time had passed since I went silent. 5:38, to be exact. Thats a long time.

"So, it seems you and I may have something in common. I work for a group lead by...wait for it...The Council. There's nothing more descriptive in the title, but their 'mission statement' is different from the people you are working for, but in that same sort of vein. There are things out there that could cause havoc on the world most know. On reality itself. They have to be controlled. So, it seems to me like one of two things is going on: there are two entities at play here which sprouted up on their own with almost identical goals when you get down to the nitty gritty, or the two groups are, in fact, related. I'm guessing you'll agree with me that there aren't very many coincidences when you play in our sandbox, so I'm thinking the latter."

 

[Vixandra]

"It wouldn't surprise me if the two councils were related, if not intertwined at some point," I said musingly. "True coincidence is rare in our world. Most of the time it is a crossing of plans from one deity or another or their minions."

We'd paused in our walking down the street. Just you're every day vision-enhanced woman in what looked like leathers and an angel standing in the dingy city streets. It was a couple of hours until dawn, the city was quiet. Too late for most night crawlers to be out, too early for the morning commuters to be active yet.

I checked the watch at my wrist and gave a mental groan. "We have to be at work in four hours. Not even worth trying to sleep now."

 

[Vail_Indigo]

Its just because of that lack of 'true coincidence' that made me interested. Then again, I've never been able to resist a mystery. More, if wanting more freedom from the Council was becoming my primary goal, then knowing more about who and what they were was going to become an immediate objective. I was fairly certain I couldn't just go in for my annual review and ask for flex-time.
Angels have it easy. At least mine did. Frickin' sub-contractors.
I was also a little worried at whatever threat would bring the two groups together and whether or not we could play nice.
My Angel and I played nice, sure, but our bosses?

"'Don't jump off buildings'...'Its so late and we have to go to work soon'," I said in my most mocking voice,"You angels sure do complain a lot."

With a smile, I grabbed her and brought her mouth to mine, my back thudding gently up against a building. She made me feel small, delicate. I don't think you can help but feel that way with a woman who has giant, gorgeous wings on her back.

Plus, whatever this thing she was wearing, it tickled me through the leather and made me see colors when I closed my eyes. There are worse ways to end a night.