We threw gasoline on the fire and now we have stumps for arms and no eyebrows

We threw gasoline on the fire and now we have stumps for arms and no eyebrows

By: Lucifiel

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel Sanctuary or its characters. Sure is entertaining to muck about with them though.

A note: And if you haven't figured out that this is yaoi by now, you're pretty unintelligent. And if you are reading Angel Sanctuary fanfiction and don't know what yaoi is, you should be dragged out into the street and shot for obvious reasons. This concludes my rant, if it could be considered as such. -_-

Michael smirked, conceding his victory. His knights were in position for the kill, their swords raised high, riding on their polished black horses. His enemy's knights were already captured, imprisoned behind enemy lines and completely out of the battlefield, which meant he had all but won the battle, since they had been the only key pieces left on the field.

"Checkmate," He said proudly, knocking Raphael's King off the chess board and smirking at the space where the glass King used to be, now replaced with a shiny black knight.

His friend groaned, "Aw damn it, that's the fourth time today!! All you do is position your knights in strategic places, you don't even care about your other pieces," Raphael, Archangel of Wind, said, gathering up the pieces and putting them back in their rightful place under the board.

"Well it works, especially on you. You suck at chess. Why the hell do you even have a chess set? You obviously never use it."

"Bite me, shorty."

"WHAT?!?!"

"Eep...nothing, nothing at all..." Raphael cringed, putting the chess board back under his bed. "Well...we're off duty today, want to do something?"

"Such as...?"

"Wellll," Raphael mused, a smile beginning to cross his face, "We could go to Earth and-"

"Forget it."

Raphael looked disappointed, but his golden eyebrows knitted in thought, "Well....I can't think of anything else to do, you have anything in mind, Mika-chan?"

Michael leaned back in the white leather chair and crossed his hands behind his head, "Mm...we could go play Counter-Strike..."

"That's not fun for me, though! You won't let me play since you never die!!" Raphael protested, "Let's do something else."

"Like what?" Michael spat back, leaning forward in the chair, "There IS nothing to do!"

"Maybe we could-"

His sentence was cut off by a beeping sound. Michael reached inside a pocket in the baggy red pants he wore and pulled out a pager. "Mission. Guess we don't have time to do anything after all."

Raphael shrugged, "Oh well. What's the mission?"

Michael got up and smacked him, "Stupid! My pager doesn't do the briefing. I'm stuck with an idiot for a friend!!!" He said, walking out of the room, trailed by Raphael, who looked perturbed but said nothing.

Once they reached Michael's room, Michael sat at his desk and flipped on his computer, checking the objectives. After he was done, the Archangel of Fire turned to Raphael, "Not an Earth mission, which is good. It's got something to do with a Cherub named Katan."

"Katan...Rosiel's Cherub?"

"Hai," Michael nodded, scratching his head and pulling on a white wife beater on over his bare chest and strapping his sword onto his back, "We're supposed to investigate whether or not Katan is mixed up in business with demons. And this is all supposed to see whether or not Rosiel is responsible for that demon business a while back. Remember, that big war? Well they think either Rosiel or Katan being commanded by Rosiel started the attack for whatever reason. That's what we're supposed to find out."

"So basically...we're supposed to find out if Rosiel is conspiring with demons or not?" Raphael asked.

"I guess." Michael walked out of the room, and, of course, ran straight into Rosiel. He grunted, flying backwards into the door Raphael had just shut. Rosiel simply stood, looking at the area of his clothing Michael had touched, then moved his amber eyes from his clothing to Michael. "Uh...gomen, Rosiel-sama," Michael got to his feet, scratching his head and looking sort of sheepish. As sheepish as Michael could look, anyway.

Rosiel kept on staring at him, narrowing his eyes a bit smaller with each second, until his eyes were almost slits. Then, his manner changed in an instant, "Hello. I'm sorry, did I cause you any pain, Michael?"

Michael blinked, then shook his head, "No, Rosiel-sama, I'm fine." The Inorganic Angel gave him chills...he had never liked him, and he especially didn't like talking to him. Something about his eyes...

"Good, good," Rosiel smiled, then leaned down closer to Michael's face, "Have you met my servant Katan?"

"No, Rosiel-sama."

"Well perhaps I should introduce you two to him," Rosiel seemed to brighten at this, and called over his shoulder, "Katan!"

A tall, yet vulnerable looking Cherub turned the corner and knelt in front of Rosiel. "You called me, Rosiel-sama?"

"Hai, Katan," Rosiel smiled, placing a hand on his cheek and guiding him to his feet. "These are two of the four Archangels, Raphael and Michael. I'd like you to meet them." The Cherub bowed and blushed when Rosiel beckoned him to rise once more. Michael suppressed the urge to wrinkle his nose. The two certainly weren't subtle about the way they felt about each other. Rosiel's eyes were all but devouring Katan, and Katan's subservient manner was too...unnatural to be a mere master/servant relationship...and that could be exploited, if the mission Raphael and himself had just taken called for measures such as those.

"Well," Raphael smiled, giving a tiny bow and inching away, "It was nice meeting you, Katan, Rosiel-sama. Have a nice day." The two turned to walk away, but Rosiel's voice called them back.

"Stop."

The two did as he commanded, turning around to face Rosiel, who was wearing a sadistic smirk. Not that Rosiel's constant smirking wasn't always sadistic, but considering the circumstances Michael found it rather unnerving.

Rosiel took a few steps forward, his platform boots clicking in the well-lit hallway. "I know what you two are up to," He said, clearly wanting to cut right to the chase, "And I would like to know if you two could keep it quiet for me."

Michael rubbed his chin, thinking, then looked up at Rosiel, "And what would we get out of the bargain?"

"My protection. And yes, Katan and myself have been dealing with the Evils. There. You've heard the confession from the culprit's very own lips, now what are you going to do? Tell all to our dear Father? Or become allies with myself and Katan, the ones who are going to rule this place sooner or later."

Raphael put a hand on Michael's shoulder and looked to Rosiel, "May we confer before accepting, Rosiel-sama?"

Rosiel waved a graceful hand, "Of course, I'll be expecting your answer tomorrow. Ja!" He said, turning and disappearing, Katan at his heels.

Michael didn't like it; not one bit. But Raphael seemed to trust Rosiel for some non-apparent reason. The Archangel of Fire walked back to his room, leaving Raphael to his thoughts and once he reached his room, un-strapped his sword and plopped down in his computer chair.

He stared at the blank screen of his computer for a moment before leaning forward and flipping it on, clicking on the icon that read "Counter-Strike" and feeling a smirk begin to make its slow but steady way onto his face. Once the game loaded and Michael connected to a 'Dust' server, the smirk spread to a grin.

His computer had an internet connection to die for, so of course lag was nonexistent in his little world of killing. "Honestly..." He murmured, grinning and sniping another HW guy, "This is too easy...I wish the humans would-what?!?!" Michael nearly jumped out of his seat. He had just been sniped back!! Outrage!!

Michael's blue eyes started glazing over with a red haze, and he respawned, this time as a soldier. "Where is the little bastard..." He muttered, his currently red eyes scanning the screen for signs of the enemy. None of the other idiots playing on the server could touch him, he didn't bother with them. But the little devil that had shot him was going to pay...and dearly.

He inched his character around a corner and came face to face with the sniper who had shot him. The name on the screen had read 'Mstar6', and that was who he faced now. And they were dead. DEAD.

Without a moment's hesitation he switched to a shotgun and blasted a hole in the offending character's face, his grin widening as his kill registered in the top right hand corner of the monitor. "Hah!!" He shouted, proud of himself. No one killed 'Pyro14' and got away unscathed.

After a moment, however, in the message section off in the bottom left hand corner of the screen, a message from Mstar6 reared its head. Michael usually never bothered reading the messages, since they were mostly idiots cussing each other out because they both sucked, or just some idiot trying to plan a strategy with another idiot. But this message was directed towards him, so Michael read it.

Michael. Don't trust Rosiel. -L

Mstar6 has signed off.

Michael blinked. "What the Hell?!"

To Be Continued....

This story has nothing to do with my other one, "The Longest Line". It's a completely different plot line. Although yes, there will be a sequel to my other story. I really do love mucking about with the Angels...they are great. Ja.