Not Leaving Anymore
Disclaimer: I own no one.
Summary: Collins dies and goes to Heaven. Fits into the 4/7 universe.
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The first thing Collins saw when he entered Heaven was a teenage girl, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. From the way she hugged him, he thought he ought to have known who she was, and yet, he couldn't remember ever meeting a teenage girl with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Also, there was something vaguely familiar about the way her black plastic rimmed glasses framed her eyes…
"Um…" he murmured. "Hi." The girl looked up.
"You don't know me, do you?" she asked. He shook his head, feeling terrible. She nibbled on her lower lip. "I think you do. If you just think hard enough." He looked at her. There was something about her pouty lips. Where had he seen those lips before? "Okay, I'll be nice. I realize it's been only about thirteen years and nine months."
Thirteen Years and Nine months?
"No…" he murmured. He glanced at the girl once more. Her pouty lips, her brown curls, the way her glasses framed her eyes. Could it really be…?
"Norah Juliet Cohen Johnson." She giggled, hugging him again. "Remember me, Uncle Tommy?"
"I used to read Socrates to your mom's belly. She said you would go crazy." He murmured. "You look so much like…"
"My mom. With my dad's character" she said. "Or so Auntie April tells me." She giggled. "Care to come in?" She glanced around, and leaned forward. "Auntie April always tells me I'm rude."
"Nah," Collins murmured. "How is it up here? Nice?"
"Depends on who you ask." Norah muttered, sounding exactly like her father. "I'm a native. It's the only home I've ever known. I like it, but that could just be me." She sighed. "Want me to see who I can find?"
"Sure." He murmured, trying not to make it too obvious he was searching for Angel. "I'd love to see April and Mimi again." He ruffled her hair. Norah groaned. "Your mother always hates that too."
"Leave that girl alone." An effeminate male voice murmured. Collins jerked around. Angel gently cuffed him in the back of the head. "Leave her alone." Norah hugged her.
"Thanks Angel!" she squealed, bouncing off. Angel sighed, looking over to the girl's vanishing figure.
"Norah is a little ball of energy. I met her when she was five." Angel murmured, sighing softly. "She grabbed me by the hand, and told me she would keep me company for as long as she could." She sighed, smoothing down her dress. "No wonder that Little Brat insisted I put on a dress today."
"You don't wear one every day?" Collins asked, surprised. Angel shook her head.
"Nope." She sighed. "I have no need to. I'm content in my sweats and tee. However, this morning, Norah showed up with a garment bag." Angel spun around, reveling in the red satin skirt. "I think she knew."
"You're not supposed to know beforehand." Mimi chimed in. Angel rolled her eyes.
"It's Norah. She's Saint Peter's best friend." Angel pointed out. "She could find out when Britney would die if she was so inclined." She faced Collins. "If you ever need anything from one of the higher ups, have Norah ask."
"I need nothing," He snaked his arm around Angel's waist.
"Why not?" Angel asked. Collins nibbled at her neck.
"Because I have you."
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