Michael was Vega.

This was the place he lived, he guarded, he protected; only to discover that no matter how many times he looked down on that budding city from his tower, he did not belong.

" A fixture on a mantelpiece." He muttered as he concentrated on the comm. link he had placed in his left ear. Rubbing his right arm subconsciously, he expected to feel the sharp edges of the tattoos dig into his skin as they did for thousands of years, only to remember that the tattoos were not on him anymore. They were now Alex's.

Alex must not know what those tattoos actually mean and if he went to Gabriel… Michael shuddered. No one here must know about what secrets lie deep within those blue lines, for it would undo Vega from its foundations. Relaxing his tense muscles, he once more stood by waiting for an emergency that he would be requested to help with. Yet no matter how hard he tried, his ancient mind wandered.

He was that last of his kind to be born, besides his three siblings; Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel. Their father was last breeding Angel and Michael was there when the enemy attacked. Unlike his three siblings, he couldn't leave for his wings had not grown in yet. So his brothers and sister left him to die with the rest of his kind. It was this fluke of Fate that made him who he was. Or that is what he always thought.

Michael always knew he had a notoriously hot temper that never really cooled; it just simmered under the surface of his cool demeanor. So when the enemy attacked with their fancy star ships and laser cannons, Michael retreated to the one place he felt safe. He retreated to his father's arms. But even his father could not hold back that black shadow that descends upon every soul and Michael watched as Death drew every breath from his father's lungs into its own.

As he lay there dying, Michael watched over him. A known face in a world of enemies, he thought to himself, might ease the pain of his passing. Blood seeped through the linen shirt his father was wearing onto his hands where he tried to hold the wound closed. Yet his father, older than him by nearly four thousand years, placed his hand upon Michael's and told him he was loved. Death came swiftly after and Michael cried. Cried when his father's life ended, cried when the enemy stormed the hall, and cried when the tattoos his father's body carried tore through his child like frame. They tore though his flesh to reach bone, entwined with his organs and squeezed his heart hard enough that he thought he too would die; And watching the enemy storm the castle he once called home, Michael did what any nine year old would do; he passed out.

" Michael." The call was sharp and commanding and Michael flinched, his teeth bared ready to defend himself, only to discover that no one was in the room with him. He stood there, braced for the shadows to start moving when he remembered that he still had the comm. link in his ear and the voice was not that of the enemy's, but of Alex. Swallowing, Michael forced his canines to retract back into his skull and unfurling his wings, jumped from his tower.

Alex didn't know what to make to make of it. It was just too weird to be understood. He could see the same weird look plastered on the other soldiers' faces that was probably on his at the sight they had just witnessed.

It was a blue box that magically appeared out of nowhere with a strong wind and hell of a lot of wheezing.

Alex shifted as he felt Michael's presence land beside him. " What happened?" The tone was curt and to the point and Alex pointed at the box with the tip of his gun. " You called me down here because of a 1960s police box...?"

" That appeared out of thin air?" Alex felt Michael stiffen. The Archangel moved towards the box like a curious panther, each move slow and deliberate. Alex could see his hands move slowly towards his swords and Alex took the chance to get a better grip on his gun. The door flew open and Michael's right sword clanged with a bone-jarring ring against metal. Standing in the doorway of the strange craft was a woman who Michael towered over by nearly a foot and in her hands was a sword. Placed expertly against Michael's, Alex could see the power struggle that ensued between the two. Suddenly Michael took a step back, his sword relinquishing its hold on hers; But Alex could tell that he wasn't going to relax until he got some answers.

" Damn I've been spending to much time with him." Alex thought to himself. But it was the girl who laughed.

" Its alright guys. You can come out now. But I can tell you one thing, we are not in Vegas. " The girl took a step forward and Alex saw Michael stiffen even further.

" What do you mean by we are not in Vegas?" A tall scrawny character poked his head out of the box and the looks that his friends wore were of utter shock and hilarity. Dressed like a mannequin in a thrift shop, the man nearly exploded out of the box. His curiosity seemed a palpable force in the air, but with a swift twist of the wrist, the girl stopped him using the flat of her blade.

" I told you, we are not in Vegas. Judging by the size of the mountain ranges around us and the brighter than normal neon." She suddenly licked her finger and stuck in the air for a few brief seconds.

" We are in the city of Vega, on the planet Gibraltar. In the Sevien constellation." She added smugly and Alex watched from the corner of his eye as Michael took a new interest in these people. Alex couldn't decide whether to trust them or not and he was looking to Michael for help, but even Michael, the impenetrable Archangel, seemed floored by their miraculous arrival.

" Come on Clara." The man called into the box and as soon as he did another woman, this one seeming even younger appeared and stopped.

" What is going on?" The man went to speak, but the girl with the sword spoke first. " It seems that picked the wrong time to drop in." The door to the blue box slammed shut and Alex could hear the lock click from where he was and then Michael spoke, his voice high and strained.

" Captain, arrest them."