Johreesiel had been fighting in the army of the Host of Heaven for almost all of his immortal life. Indeed, he and the other members of his garrison had often been on the front lines of the war. It seemed as though the eternal battle against the forces of Lucifer and his demons would never be won. The angels would have a victory and gain the upper hand, only for the demons to counter with a sneak attack that would regain much of the ground they had lost. And so the two opposing forces seemed to be locked in a stalemate, with all the Earth and humanity their battlefield. The only good thing was that even if they could not claim a decisive victory and rout their enemy, the Heavenly Host were still able to hold the demons at bay, keeping safe the world that their Father so favored.

This was of little comfort to Johreesiel at the moment. Most of his garrison had been lost in the most recent battle. Johreesiel had survived, and might even be hailed as a hero if angels ever considered such epithets. He had thrown himself fiercely at the enemy when his comrades fell, the fury of his wrath allowing him to beat them back and hold their position until reinforcements arrived. But he felt no great satisfaction in the victory, only a great tiredness.

Johreesiel had been removed from active duty while he recovered from the injuries he received in that battle. He was surprised to receive a summons to appear before Raguel; usually an angel returned to his position without needing to see the angel who oversaw the activities of the Host. No doubt Raguel could sense his confusion, because he started their meeting with the announcement that Johreesiel was being given a new assignment.

"A new tablet containing the Word has been uncovered, and a Prophet has been called who will be responsible for translating and disseminating this Word. You have been Chosen to act as overseer for this Prophet. Protect him from the forces of evil, and see that he carries out his mission."

Johreesiel was a bit surprised by this new assignment. He had acted as a warrior in the angelic army and had little contact with the humans. Usually a prophet's overseer would be selected from amongst the ranks of guardian angels, or from the angels tasked with bringing revelation. No doubt sensing his confusion, Raguel radiated reassurance and confidence in Johreesiel's ability to carry out this important assignment.

If Johreesiel would be interacting with the Prophet on the mortal plane he would need an appropriate vessel. A moment of quiet contemplation revealed a worthy vessel already residing in the same city as the new prophet. The vessel had also been a soldier, but had grown soul-weary from fighting and lost his way. The loss of his beloved had broken his heart and his will to live, but he was too stubborn to simply take his own life. Instead he languished, heart-sick and waiting for an end to his misery.

But Johreesiel saw that there was still good in this man, that he could yet align himself on the side of the Angels by offering himself as a vessel. At first the man believed the angel's voice was a hallucination brought on by strong drink. But finally he believed, and saw the angel's request to use his body as a vessel as the man's shot at redemption – a chance to both do good and be released from his suffering.

Johreesiel settled in and surveyed the world through his human vessel's eyes. He arose and moved his various limbs, trying to get a feel for this mortal body. He checked that the human soul had not been damaged when he arrived, and then soothed it to a sort of slumber in the back of their mind. It would not feel any pain or sorrow while Johreesiel was in residence, but he did not snuff its consciousness completely. Since Johreesiel was unfamiliar with the mortal realm he could tap into his host's memories to guide him in his task. The mortal soul would simply watch Johreesiel's actions as a sort of detached observer in a dreamlike state.

When Johreesiel felt he had sufficiently familiarized himself with his new condition he transported himself to the Prophet's domicile. The man was in the process of opening a box containing the tablet of the Word when the angel suddenly appeared in the middle of his living room.

"Harold-" Johreesiel began before he was cut off by a startled squeak from the Prophet.

"Who...Who are you ? How did you get in here?!" The man demanded, eyes wide behind his glasses.

"I am an Angel of the Lord. And you have been called as one of his Prophets. I will watch over you while you translate and disseminate his Word" Johreesiel proclaimed while indicating the tablet in the man's hands.

"I bought this on Ebay" Harold said skeptically.

"God uses whatever means are necessary to move forward his plans" Johreesiel stated, skirting the fact that he had no knowledge of who or what this 'Ebay' was.

"Hmmmm. I suppose that might explain my impulse buy of a rock with writing on it someone found while digging a pool. And possibly why there were so few other bids on it. Though it really wasn't a very impressive looking rock from the picture."

"You are the Prophet charged with its translation. Of course it would find its way into your hands."

"And you're my guardian angel? You look out for me?"

"Yes, after a fashion"

"Then if we are going to be spending a significant amount of time together there is something we need to take care of."

"What is that?"

"You. Come with me" Harold said as he took the angel by the hand and led him off to the bathroom. "A little tidying up will help you pass more easily amongst humans. Not to mention a shower will make you better company" Harold commented as he wrinkled his nose slightly.

He closed the lid of the toilet and sat the angel down, then went about gathering shaving equipment. The angel was too bemused by the situation to protest, although he detected a faint whisper of amusement from his host. Johreesiel didn't like the feeling that he was being laughed at on top of his discomfort at the unusual situation. Things got worse when Harold finished and squinted at the newly shaven face.

"I know you. You're John Reese."

"That is one of the names of my vessel."

"You possessed him?" Harold exclaimed in dismay.

"NO!" Johreesiel denied. "I am no demon to victimize the innocent. My host was only too willing to offer himself for my use. He felt his sacrifice was worth it for the sake of my mission."

"That...sounds rather like the John Reese I researched" Harold said sadly. "I am not sure how I feel about this situation. But we can deal with that later. For now...into the shower. I'll see if I can find you other clothes while you clean up."

After some brief instructions Johreesiel stripped and stepped into the shower to cleanse himself. His host felt chagrin at the state he had let himself fall into, but was appreciating the chance to set that right and prompted Johreesiel as needed on what to do. When he felt his attentions were sufficient Johreesiel exited the shower and made use of the towels provided to dry himself. While he was doing that Harold opened the door a crack and placed a change of clothes on the sink. Once he had put on the new garments Johreesiel left the bathroom and rejoined the Prophet in the other room, where he was poring over the tablet containing the Word. Harold looked up when he heard Johreesiel enter and surveyed him up and down before commenting sadly "It is a good thing Nathan left a pair of his sweats here. You certainly never would have fit into anything of mine. I'll have to see if I can find you something better. That and maybe a more professional haircut. Come along." He then locked the tablet in a briefcase and put on a jacket and coat before dragging the angel out the door.

Catching a ride in a yellow vehicle, the Prophet took the angel to a shop where after a brief discussion with the owner the angel was forced to change clothes several times before finally leaving wearing yet another outfit. Then on to another location where a woman cut his hair, all the while directing a lively stream of conversation at the angel while Harold lurked nearby feigning interest in a brightly colored piece of reading material. Even without the Prophet's admonition that it would be best if the angel kept quiet during their outing there wouldn't have been much chance for Johreesiel to contribute to the conversation, because the woman barely stopped talking except to breath (and also because he had no clue what she was talking about.)

When they were finished the Prophet had them go to another building - a Library. He said that the building was safe as it belonged to him, and that some of the older reference materials stored there might help him when he worked on translating the tablet. He removed the tablet from the briefcase and placed it on a desk in his work room. Then he went to check the status of the programs running on his computer. Johreesiel was unsettled by all the new experiences and wanted to regain some control over the situation.

"If you start to gather together the necessary items we will be able to depart soon."

"Depart? Where are we going?" Harold asked absently as he scrolled through the information on the computer screen.

"It is traditional for Prophets to sequester themselves in the wilderness while they translate the Word. I believe the desert is most common, although a tall mountain has been used on occasion" Johreesiel replied with only a hint of uncertainty. He really should have gotten a bit more background before embarking on this assignment. Prophets really weren't his specialty.

"I don't think so. I am a very private person but that seems a bit extreme even for me. Besides, I have important work here in the city that can't be abandoned."

"But...but..." Johreesiel sputtered, at a loss as to how to proceed.

"Of course I will translate the tablet." Harold was swift to reassure the angel. "But I also have other responsibilities that I can't abandon. There are lives that depend on me."

"This is not how this is supposed to unfold" Johreesiel said helplessly.

"Maybe not" Harold said. "But this is how it is going to be. I won't relegate the needs of these people in favor of the 'greater good'. Not again." And with that emphatic pronouncement Harold turned back to his computers and ignored the angel standing behind him.

Johreesiel fumed. Nothing was going the way it should. This prophet was so stubborn! This was all a mistake. Johreesiel shouldn't be here, it should be some other angel more used to the vagaries of humans. Or maybe it should be a prophet who took his duties a bit more seriously the angel grumped to himself. After several hours of observing the human work on his computers a frustrated Johreesiel left his charge and made his way back to heaven. Surely Raguel would see that something needed to be done about the situation!

Unfortunately Johreesiel had to wait as he didn't have an appointment and he couldn't in good conscience list his need as urgent. This did nothing for his temper. Finally he had his audience and could vent all of his frustration on his superior. Raguel seemed unimpressed. There had been no mistake. Not in the choice of the Prophet, and not in the choice of his watcher. "I gave you a job Johreesiel. I never said it would be easy. Though you may soon be rid of the position you find so odious since you have left your charge unattended." Raguel said caustically.

Johreesiel was surprised as he had left his Prophet sequestered in a library. But a quick review of what had come to pass in his absence showed that the Prophet hadn't stayed there. He had gone out and been caught spying by a group with ill intentions. Even now one of them was driving the Prophet to an isolated location where he could be killed.

Not on his watch! Johreesiel vowed. He transported himself back from heaven into the mortal realm to intercept the evildoer holding his Prophet captive. Unfortunately Johreesiel was still unfamiliar with the operation of the humans' vehicles and his abrupt appearance in the road led to the car crashing, flipping end over end before coming to rest upside down. Aghast at what he had done, Joheesiel rushed to check on his Prophet. Fortunately the man was still alive though a bit the worse for wear.

He extricated the Prophet from the wreck and quickly healed his injuries. Detective Fusco in the meantime had crawled out from the driver's side. He cowered back as Johreesiel stalked over to smite him.

"I am an Angel of the Lord. You threatened my Prophet. Prepare to die."

"NO!" Harold cried.

"He wanted to kill you" Johreesiel seethed.

"I rather think he has had a change of heart."

Fusco nodded enthusiastically

"How do I know he won't try again."

"I don't think his heart was ever really into it. I think he was with the others out of loyalty. I am sure your appearance has had a profound effect on him. Given another chance he can change. Be a better man."

"He doesn't deserve a second chance" Johreesiel growled, still angry at what had almost happened. Although much of his anger was also due to guilt over his own mistake.

"Maybe not. But he should get one anyway. If for no other reason than because his son shouldn't have to lose his father. Leave him. We have more urgent matters to attend to."

With one last glare in Fusco's direction and a muttered "I'll be watching you" Johreesiel returned to his Prophet's side and teleported them both back to the Library.

Amazed but somewhat nauseated by the miraculous method of transport Harold said "Let's not do that again anytime soon" and went to start a search on his computer.

"They plan to kill Wheeler, Diane Hanson's coworker. Apparently he has some suspicions that the Assistant DA has been working on the wrong side of the law. We have to stop them."

"You need to translate the tablet."

"Alright make that I have to stop them" Harold said firmly. "You can stay here and watch over the tablet."

"The tablet won't be of much use without you to translate it" Johreesiel said in frustration. He hadn't been back on Earth long and already things with the Prophet were spiraling out of control.

"Then I guess you will have to hope nothing happens to me. Nevertheless I am not going to let a man die because I was afraid to act" Harold said as he noted Wheeler's address and left the room, heading toward the library exit.

Johreesiel stood stunned for a moment. Then he took off after his wayward Prophet. His job was to protect the man, and protect him he would! Even if his charge insisted on throwing himself headlong into trouble. The host soul within him gave Johreesiel a silent cheer of approval.

Harold made no comment when the angel caught up to him, merely hurried to get to their destination. But the dirty cops had already arrived when they got there. Spying on them from around the corner Harold saw that there were three of them, all armed, and that they had an innocent victim with them - no doubt to take the fall for the murder. He was wondering what one unarmed man could do to salvage the situation. He couldn't call the police because dirty cops were the perpetrators. He doubted Wheeler would listen if he called the man and tried to warn him...

"Let me deal with them" Johreesiel said grimly. He might be out of his depths trying to wrangle a recalcitrant human, but fighting was something he was very very good at. He teleported into the building and grabbed the lookout on the upstairs floor, depositing him on the roof of a nearby building. The access door was locked and solid steel so that the man wouldn't be going anywhere with no way down. Next the spotter in the lobby was grabbed and taken to join his accomplice. That just left the leader and his hostage. He was careful when grabbing the man to also grab the hand holding the weapon so that the hostage could run away safely when he teleported the leader away.

The other two cops were still vomiting from the after-effects of their abrupt transport when Johreesiel appeared. He quickly stepped away when his latest acquisition started to join them. But Stills recovered quickly, turning on Johreesiel with his weapon drawn.

"I don't know who you are or what you did, but you're a dead man. I'm gonna kill you, and then your family and friends" Stills snarled.

"I don't think so..." Johreesiel began, becoming rather miffed when Stills interrupted him by shooting him. Several times. Although the gunfire had no effect on the angel except for his temper. His host's soul whispered to him that this one was different from Detective Fusco, and even from his cowering co-conspirators. This one would never repent and would be a threat if not dealt with. Johreesiel's Prophet seemed to frown on killing, but fortunately there was an alternative. He stalked forward and grabbed the detective and then teleported to a deserted island. It was one of the locations he had scouted as a possible place for the Prophet to stay while he worked on the tablet. It seemed the Prophet would be staying in New York city, so perhaps the place could be put to another use. There was food, water, and materials for making a shelter all available with a little work on Stills part. Now to see to the others.

When he reappeared on the rooftop the other two cowered away from him while they begged for mercy. Johreesiel let a little of his angelic wrath shine through as he commanded them to repent and confess their evildoings. Or else he would deal with them harshly. The two groveled and swore that they would turn themselves in to the authorities.

"Make sure you do" Johreesiel said as he wrenched the access door off of its hinges and let them run away.

The Prophet seemed pleased when Johreesiel informed him about the fates of the three men. "Now we just need to deal with the ringleader" Harold said. Apparently he had a recording of her confessing her involvement in a murder, which he ensured would be heard by the authorities while she was presenting a case in court. Harold and Johreesiel quietly left the courtroom as the bailiffs moved to take Diane into custody.

"I must admit" Harold said as they walked down the court building steps. "That went better than I could have hoped. Thank you for your assistance."

"I don't understand you" Johreesiel confessed. "Why you do this. Why any of you do anything."

"I know. But don't worry, I can fix that. It wouldn't be the first time I have helped a preternatural being learn about humanity. Let's just hope you are as able a student."

Johreesiel wasn't sure what Harold meant by that comment, but he remained quiet as they walked.

"Don't think for a moment that I have forgotten about the tablet. I understand its importance. But helping the Numbers is also important. If I am going to do both I am going to need some help."

"I can help" Johreesiel offered tentatively.

"Thank you, I appreciate that. But I was thinking of someone else who might lend a hand" Harold said as he consulted his phone to determine the location of his objective.


Lionel had been taken to the hospital when someone finally found him at the car wreck. After some tests and observation he was released. Only to find out that two of his cronies had confessed and that the Assistant DA had been arrested. Stills had vanished without a trace. Lionel decided to keep his head down until the furor subsided. He said that he had been the victim of a hit and run by an unknown truck while going to meet with one of his informants. Since no one knew anyone was with him he didn't need to explain the absence of his passenger. He could barely believe what he had seen on the road to Oyster Bay, but couldn't convince himself that it was merely a result of his injuries. As fantastic as it seemed, he just knew deep in his bones that it had really happened. He had met (and nearly been smote by) an Angel.

Not sure what else to do, he decided to take refuge in a bar and drink his troubles and his memory away.

That was where Harold and his angel found him. Harold sat next to Fusco while Johreesiel perched on a stool a little further away to give the two some space for their conversation. But he kept an eye on the detective, in case the man made any threatening moves toward his Prophet. Harold motioned to the bartender and ordered them all a round of beers.

"The angel drinks" Fusco said incredulously.

"I think he's old enough. Besides he's had a rather trying day."

"My day wasn't a picnic either" Fusco grumbled.

"Forgive me if I can only muster so much sympathy for the man who wanted to kill me" Finch replied snidely. "But I am willing to look past that because I have a job for you."

"So...we're on a mission from God?"

"I am. You have a more mundane boss - me. Though I suppose you could still say you are...on the side of the angel" Harold said, regretting the pun the moment he spoke it.

Fusco glanced over to where Johreesiel was sitting and sipping his beer contemplatively. The Angel's host had consumed quite a large quantity of the beverage in the past, but the Angel wasn't sure if he liked it.

"Not what I expected" Fusco muttered, figuring that covered the angel, Lionel's sordid past, and his current situation.