I mean technically this could fit into canon.
It also makes War's interactions with Uriel ten times more amusing because you know he's just... Pls, just go to fighting my sister; I don't need this.
I have a thing for Fury two shots tbh I got a suuuper fluffy and cute redrom follow up for this but right now? Strife is a good brother and Fury has it bad. And she's totally gonna pick a fight.
Title is from the song Cherry Wine by Hozier, but if you're feelin the femslash I'd recommend the cover by Paola Bennet. She's a fantastic singer and really close to my headcanon Fury voice (just a little too high pitched tbh)
"I hate her!" Fury snarls, more worked up than Strife can ever remember seeing his calmest sibling.
He slowly lowers his weapon, deciding target practice can wait until after he figures out what's up. It's not as if he needs it anyway. Millennia of shooting generally makes one a perfect shot. "Who?"
It had started when Fury was tasked with quelling a group of demons keen on harassing the third kingdom, only for her to find Uriel and a small group of the Hellguard already there. The angel seemed surprised at first, and shifted to hostile before Fury explained her mission.
"Oh. Then you have no purpose here, Horseman. We have handled it." She had said, all prim and proper. As if she, this insignificant little angel, has the right to decide when and where the Horsemen are needed.
That was the moment Fury realized how much she abhors Uriel of the White City.
That was also the moment Fury realized how much she'd like to kiss her, and was forced to question where in the nines hells that thought came from.
"Fury?" Strife asks, bringing her back to the present. "Who's earned your wrath, sis?"
"Don't call me that." She responds immediately, continuing her pacing even as Strife pointedly takes a seat. Strife and his human words have been a source of conflict the last few years. He seems to think humans are 'cute', in a patronizing sort of way.
"Yeah, sure. So..." He responds flippantly.
Fury drags a hand through her hair, "...Uriel."
Strife pauses. "The angel?"
"Yes, the angel." She confirms. "I... I hate her, Strife."
"Yes." Strife appears flummoxed when she glances his way, but she can understand why. "So what's different about this hate? As opposed to your hate for me." He should know by now Fury very rarely realizes when people are joking.
She stops in her tracks, bright eyes fixating on her brother. "I don't hate you."
He cracks a smile, "Sometimes you do."
She rolls her eyes. "Sometimes I'd like to punch you, but I do not hate you, Strife. Ever. And besides, what I feel for Uriel is no where comparable to you." At the mention of Uriel, her gentle smile turns into a grimace.
"Care to elaborate?"
Her voice lowers into a whisper, as if she's worried one of the others will hear, "I do not hate her... Platonically."
If he wasn't invested beforehand, he sure is now. "What?"
"I don't know, Strife! She's just... So infuriating and gorgeous. I don't know if I want to court her or pick a fight! Perhaps both. And you're the only one I can ask, given the selection."
Strife laughs, the sound cutting off when Fury sends him an icy glare. At she's still herself enough to do that. "Let me get this straight, you're asking me for romantic advice?"
It occurs to him a second too late that perhaps 'straight' wasn't the best word for this situation. Fury probably wouldn't get the joke anyway though. The Watcher's might.
"Yes, Strife. Would you like me to write it out for you? Sign it in my own blood?" She whirls in place and starts pacing again, reverting to her usual state of constant movement. It's worse when she's anxious, he knows. She's really worked up over this.
"That's unnecessary, but thanks for the offer." He snorts. "First things first, you think she feels the same?"
"Well, I would assume so given her habit of going out of her way to irritate me. Or she has exceptional natural talent." Fury smirks a bit at that, although Strife hardly catches it.
"At pissing you off." Strife clarifies. Exceptional natural talent could mean a lot of things, really.
Fury gives him a look that says 'I know what you're thinking'. "Indeed."
"And have you... Purposely angered her in return?" He asks. He doesn't claim to be the best romantic advisor, honestly, but Fury does have a point claiming he's the best option out of the Four. Neither War nor Death would know where to even begin.
"Of course. Once I purposely kept Abaddon for nearly two hours by complaining of Lilith's meddling while she waited oh-so-patiently. She was livid." Fury obviously takes no small amount of pleasure out of that, and Strife is not how to feel.
"Well." He starts, leaning back on his palms. "I... Perhaps the next time you see her you should... Ask her out? Or for a formal, non lethal fight?
Fury falls silent, her steps faltering the tiniest bit. "I would prefer the latter, honestly. And then maybe I will ask her to dinner. After she sees a medic, of course."
"Because you'll kick her ass." Strife laughs, and Fury gifts him with a smile.
"Obviously, brother. What do you take me for?" She clinks her claws together.
There's the Fury he knows.
It had taken Fury much longer than she'd like to admit to find time wherein both Uriel and she had nothing better to do, but Strife was a constant motivator. He seems a little too invested, in her opinion, but she's appreciates it nonetheless. She has yet to tell War and Death of her... Crush, and if it doesn't play out she supposes there will be no need to do so.
Uriel was training when the Horseman approached, striding in as if she owns the world. Which, she could, if they weren't bound to inforce the Balance.
Uriel takes notice immediately, but only narrows her eyes curiously.
Fury smirks. "Is this what you spend your downtime on?"
"It is better than what you appear to be doing." Uriel fires back, tightening her grip on her sword. "What are you doing on angelic lands, Horseman?"
"Admiring the fauna." Her grin only widens when Uriel scowls.
"Such loathsome speech is unbefitting of a guardian of the Balance." The angel hisses, her wings spreading out to make her appear larger.
Like an angry kitten, Fury thinks amusedly. "Do you loathe me then, angel?" She asks, taking a few steps closer.
Uriel, at least, holds her ground. "And what if I do? Are you threatening the WhiteCity?"
"Of course not." Fury smiles disarmingly. "I am here for you. To challenge you, more specifically."
"You..." Uriel begins, her voice layered with confusion. "You want a duel? Not for political reasons, but simply because you hate me?"
Admittedly, she appears more understanding than most would be in this situation, with a Horsemen practically propositioning her, but Fury nonetheless takes pride is rendering her speechless for a short time. She smirks, and the angel floats back a bit.
"Indeed." Fury agrees, watching her carefully.
Uriel remains perplexed, her eyebrows pulled together and the cutest (in Fury's opinion) pout on her lips. "Is this a nephilim custom?" She finally asks. "It would not surprise me." Those words have the tiniest amount of disdain, just enough to get Fury mildly irritated without breaking any angel social rules.
"To an extent." She allows with a shrug. "Do you accept?" Her claws clink together, but she keeps her whip on her waist. There will be no need, if all goes to plan. Dismemberment or other serious injuries are not part of the plan.
Uriel takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders. "I do."