Disclaimer: I own nothing...besides my half OC/half canon characters...who my usual readers are familiar with now, and if you are new, then you will find them pretty quick...

Summary: Christmas present to my readers! Ish...aka I had some miraculous free time and this plot idea wouldn't leave me alone so I decided to write a holiday-ish fic that I hope to have done by the end of the twelve nights of Christmas...January 6th...but it might evolve into more than that so we'll see...but Vega needed a holiday fic. Ok so true summary...let's just say it's going to be crazy...

Author's Note: I have not forgotten or abandoned my other two fics, just taking a bit of a mental break so I can jump into them raring to go. Enjoy this one, it's probably (hopefully) going to be shorter than the others but still as action packed.

Chapter Titles are from The Cab song Angel with a Shotgun, fic title is from Florence and the Machine song Shake it Off. Both perfect songs for this.

Chapter One

Get Out Your Guns

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December 21st, 2039

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He never should have ignored the signs, never just brushed this off like it was just another irritating moment that would go away with time. Because, like they say...rain drops may gather, but it only takes one to break the dam. Guess that's why they called him the "Flood".

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Ok...so cookies and treats were cooling on the counters and kitchen table, with a couple of the girls guarding the entryways to ensure the guys remained out of the kitchen. Instead the men were busy either filling the wood bins so no one had to chop wood anytime soon, or mock sparring to waste away some of the pent up energy from being off duty.

Or as off duty as they could be eight hours outside of Vega's walls.

"So now what are you making? Thought you finished everyone's things weeks ago."

"I did, this is for someone else."

"No one else is going to be here though…"

"Just got a hunch on this…"

The fact of the matter was, out of the sixteen of them crowding into the rather decent sized house, technically only four of them were on leave from active duty, the rest were still listed as 'on guard', but as they say: "When the cat's away the mice will play."

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Two Weeks Ago

December 7th, 2039

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It only took Michael about ten seconds after he landed on the roof of the Monte Carlo for the senate meeting to realize something was wrong. Not wrong as in Vega was under or soon to be under attack, nor wrong as in the senate was arguing again.

More like wrong as in something was wrong with him.

Eleven seconds after he landed, his leg started to stiffen up as he moved, and that was the answer.

Michael growled under his breath, ignoring the faint twinges of pain starting to resonate deep in his left thigh where if he had been human, there would probably be extensive scar tissue from an old injury he'd sustained about a century and a half ago. Right now, the residual effects were apparently trying to make themselves known, but the archangel ignored it still. Not a single hitch in his long stride as he left the roof and headed down two floors to the senate chamber where the rest of Vega's leaders were gathering.

Senator Romero passed him the agenda the second he was inside the door, nodding slightly in greeting as Michael took his seat. It did take a bit of effort to hide the grimace trying to stretch across his face as his leg throbbed at the sudden lack of movement, a gnawing stiffness beginning to take over his joints.

What in the blue blazes was causing this?

Michael shoved the thoughts aside, subtly shifting in his seat to try and achieve a position in his chair that would not allow him to be in pain.

No such luck, as ten minutes after the meeting had been started and business was well under way, a particularly vicious throb sent a stab of pain along Michael's entire leg, straight from his hip all the way down to his calf as the muscles spasmed.

That took a lot of effort to hide, instead one of his hands snapped to his thigh, gripping his leg in an attempt to alleviate the sudden pain.

Captain Finch, Vega's leading Army Commander under Riesen, cleared his throat softly, glancing to the archangel in confusion. His look was met with a slight shake of the head, Michael gritting his teeth without showing any outward signs other than the hand subtly rubbing his leg.

Senator Levi droned on about some proposal, or an amendment to some law...Michael wasn't entirely sure at this point as his vision decided now was apparently a fabulous time to start fuzzing out in time with the wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm his senses.

Michael swallowed thickly, having to clench his jaw when the nausea seemed to fade before reappearing almost instantaneously as a headache.

The slam of the gavel as Riesen ended that item of business was in perfect time for the strange sensations threatening the archangel's body to just...vanish...leaving Michael honestly confused and bit mad about it all.

That was...until he tried to take a deep breath to settle his internal thoughts and found his chest unresponsive beyond meager inhalations.

Finding yourself unable to breathe properly was bad enough, but after starting to already not feel well, and coupled with slight dizziness, Michael was starting to feel a bit anxious, and that unnerved him more than the symptoms themselves...he didn't get anxious...ever…

But it was his skin breaking out in a cold sweat as his chest began to ache that really made Michael begin to think something was seriously wrong. This time, it was Michael's stare that made Captain Finch turn to see him, the army officer's brow furrowing at the faint panic on the archangel's face.

Captain Finch mouthed a quick 'are you ok?', eyes widening in concern when Michael abruptly shook his head. The human jerked his head towards the door, shifting the papers in his lap to the side table next to his chair in the senate chamber before he made to stand up. Michael tried to copy him, instead his leg was too stiff and to move and he jerked upright with a soft complaint passing from his lips before he could stop it.

"Captain where are you going?"

"Archangel?"

Michael couldn't turn to face Senator Julien's question, nor Whele questioning the captain, all he could do was grip the arm of his chair tightly in a bare hope that he'd remain on his feet and not fall over.

"Michael what's going on?"

Finch sounded a touch hesitant when he spoke, not that Michael could really even look up from the floor to see him, "General, we are needed-"

By this point, the inability to breathe was only making the lightheadedness even worse, and Michael was seriously starting to panic, internally since he wasn't entirely sure if he could even open his mouth without throwing up let alone speak, he lost the ability to hear anything else around him as his left arm that had been braced against his thigh went numb and slid from his leg.

"Michael!"

Ok, that he heard, only because it was the last thing Michael coherently understood before he crashed to the floor…

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October 3rd, 2039

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Sgt. First Class Alexander Lannon, Archangel Corps Soldier for the last seven years, was hard pressed to keep from growling or sighing or rolling his eyes...or showing irritation in any other form, as Captain Rodriguez handed him a packet of papers detailing his new rotation schedule. Today was rotation day, close to sixty-five percent of the Archangel Corps and almost eighty-five percent of the army got rotated through duty slots every eighteen months. Meaning Alex got moved from being a guard in House Whele to a completely different location and under a new supervisor.

He was not happy...it was just under two weeks after the whole Senator Frost thing, and besides still reeling from Bixby's death, Alex was just now getting the hang of the intense schedule Michael had come up with so the soldier could properly complete his duties and have extra training time with the archangel alongside meditation sessions every other night. Needless to say throwing another wrench into the chaos was not going to be easy.

At least Captain Rodriguez gave Alex permission to leave the barracks, even if he was still on probation for "sneaking out the other night" aka meeting with the Michael that the archangel wouldn't take the time to admit to the captains.

The Stratosphere was quiet as usual as Lannon trekked up the last couple flights of stairs, having sent the elevator a few floors short of the top so he'd have a little more time to think things through. His new rotation may or may not require him to have wildly different hours than Michael was usually available, if he was even within easy distance of the archangel in the first place. Basically Alex was going to talk to his mentor about how the hell they were going to manage this and the soldier's 'destiny' as the chosen one.

Michael didn't respond to Alex's knock, but the door did open when he punched in his access code, being one of only ten or so people who actually had said code made the soldier feel a little better about entering unannounced. At least the archangel was present when he did so, just either oblivious or ignoring the door entirely as Alex entered.

No matter how many times Alex saw it, he'd still say watching Michael perform a sword dance was one of the coolest things ever, such grace and discipline and skill all wrapped into actions that were just milliseconds short of being a blur of motion.

With a final spin of his blades, the hilts seeming to twist around his hands before resting back in his palms perfectly, Michael either completed what he was doing or came to a stopping point to address Alex.

At this point Alex was too frustrated and tired to explain himself, passing Michael the packet of papers and stalking to the tablet the archangel kept drinks and 'snack food' on, not that there was ever anyone up here long enough or frequently enough (besides Alex at this point) to ever indulge in the nonperishable goods. The sounds of pages turning overpowered Alex dropping a couple ice cubes from the small container into a tumbler, making to pour himself a hefty glass of...rum apparently...there wasn't any other kind of liquor on the table.

Michael's hand gently stopped him from pouring the liquid, taking the bottle and doing it himself and only giving Alex half a glass. The soldier didn't question it, just turned to lean against the table next to Michael and down half the drink, crunching on an ice cube while the archangel read through the orders.

"I start tomorrow."

"I can see that." Michael's dry tone showed absolutely no emotion, but it also relayed he wasn't irritated or even surprised by this, meaning either he already knew about it...or wasn't showing his thoughts on the matter.

"Fine time for me to get moved to the Agri-Towers, I haven't worked there since my first year after being inducted."

The archangel shrugged idly, "Rotations are assigned randomly, other than personal requests or changes, there is no selection process to the dictating of duties."

"And you know this how?"

Michael's stare would normally have made anyone back off and quickly apologize, followed by possibly running. Alex just stared back, not caring at all that he was stepping out of line.

"I know you are aware Sgt. Hanson is one of the Corps' top programmers, she designed and implemented a system to randomize rotation assignments two years ago."

Alex snorted, "And you've seen this program?"

"Yes."

That made Alex truly laugh, swallowing the last of the drink and crunching on the ice as he set the glass down, "Michael, there is no possible way for her to have done that, what you saw was the mock-up that randomizes the first fifty or so names in the system, Carla's the best programmer because she can work the files fast enough to keep up with the rotation schedules. That randomizer is faulty for the entire system because-hey guess what-we keep dying...the mortality rate is too high for it to be accurate, the program can't be updated each time someone dies otherwise it tries to redo the current rotation again. Plus, you and the captains induct new guys every six months and the rotations are every eighteen. Too many new names and files to add to a system that's temperamental at best."

Now Alex had Michael's attention, the archangel's arms crossing over his chest as he waited for the soldier to go on.

"You know Carla's the best programmer, and one of the nursing students running the barracks infirmary right? While some of us may end up dead a lot of the time, we're not stupid enough to get hurt on purpose, Carla probably spent the last month during her infirmary shifts redoing the rotation assignments, she'd come up with three options and send them to the captains to review and sign off on one."

"You say probably like you know this for a fact."

Alex cringed, and Michael exhaled a tad louder than normal, just shy of growling in irritation, "I may or may not have bribed her last time to keep me out of House Thorn and House Blake...that and since you insist on clotheslining me with your wings every other day, she's agreed to keep her mouth shut about my tattoos considering she's had to wrap my ribs twice now. I just owe her a couple substitution shifts later, but she won't put the tattoos down on my record or tell the captains."

To that Michael nodded, stepping away finally as he glanced back over the papers. Alex breathed a sigh of relief, Michael had given him strict orders to not tell anyone about the tattoos, or to even talk to those who already knew about them. Mainly because other than the archangel himself, and the deceased Bixby, the rest were V-6s. Though Alex suspected Michael was well aware Alex hadn't completely kept to that promise, considering besides Carla by default, Ethan and Noma were privy to the tattoos, not that Ethan had really figured it out what they meant…

"It says you are optional for outer excursion duty."

"Yeah, something about rotating with those already stationed at the other locations. Rodriguez was being really vague about the details, but I'd be moving in with the Agri-Tower detail, the barracks are too far away to be of easy access."

"Your training will have to be independent from your peers."

Alex's brow furrowed, "You mean sparring?"

"That and your other training."

"Meditating then...what, no more late night meetings? Guess I'm not sneaking out anymore."

Michael nodded again, "Not only that but it would be illogical considering outer guards do not work expressly in the towers."

"Seriously?"

With a final nod, Michael handed Alex the papers, gesturing to a section of the information typed out neatly.

"You will not be able to continue training with me as easily for some time, you must attempt to do on your own but do not be rash about it."

"And why am I doing this on my own? Michael I can barely keep quiet let alone still during meditating, how in the hell am I going to do it by myself?"

"You will learn."

"But why?"

The archangel sighed softly, "Because Alex, since you apparently cannot read the information in front of you…"

Alex glanced down at the papers as his mentor went on, sounding eerily calm considering what he said next.

"This rotation is one of the most dangerous in the Archangel Corps and in Vega, besides working within the Agri-towers you will be stationed at the other agriculture locations." Michael explained, eyes narrowed a tad in barely hidden annoyance.

"Oh shit…"

Michael snorted, "Exactly, you will be stationed outside of Vega's walls."

Well...whatcha think? I doubt I can get my story line to line up with the dates and have this Christmas line up with life but hey...it will be up New Year's.

Review please?