Spears bundled the reports into a folder, added an overview of his own, and dropped them all into a basket for filing. Most satisfactory. An archangel had been sentenced to forty years as a human in the human realm, caring for his human family. The Fallen was dealt with. A demon nest had been eradicated with no harm to his subordinates. Favors had been exchanged. The Divine Realm was uncomfortably in debt to the Reapers. This would be useful the next time Grell had to be extricated from an entanglement with some angel who'd gotten stewed, screwed and tattooed.
The Higher Ups had been uncommonly gracious to Spears, commending the actions of his people and his own handling of the situation. This goodwill would need careful cultivation. A certain amount must be kept against future emergencies. Some could be used to arrange staffing and budget increases in lieu of unwanted promotion.
He expected to have to negotiate to keep Humphries in place. A personnel-poaching Higher Up had suggested transferring him into the offices which interfaced with the Divine. Humphries was far too good to lose, as was his stabilizing partnership with Slingby. Spears had plans for that team in a decade or so.
If ever Forgiveness had been extended, it had been extended to them; it would not do to part them. The Highest would be displeased.
Fresh from his shower, Eric buttoned a clean shirt. In the kitchen, Alan was humming a lovely old tune as he laid out breakfast. Eric reached for his vest. It always earned him a special smile. Alan found the vest fascinating. Somehow he always seemed to want to discover all that lay beneath it. He insisted on being the one to unbutton it every night. When he reached up to slip it off Eric's shoulders they automatically fell into an embrace.
As much as Eric enjoyed breaking uniform to irritate Spears, he wore the vest for Alan.
Maybe he'd try wearing one red sock and see how long it took Spears to notice.
Alan poured the coffee. He looked up at Eric and wondered. So tall, so beautiful, a bit impulsive - intelligent, though; maybe second or third generation? But merely a Reaper now. Besides, the beauty might be in Alan's eyes only; he was hardly objective where Eric was concerned.
Perhaps, he thought, he should schedule a deliberate rule-breaking every six months or so, just to make sure they could stay together. He could imagine it; "Will, it's time for my semi-annual disobedience. I'll be five minutes late tomorrow, don't forget to ding me for it. Or would Monday be more convenient?" Eric would fall out of his chair laughing. Maybe he would improve with practice.
But how foolish of him, to think that Forgiveness would ever be extended to one with his record. There were respected Reapers who had served faultlessly for centuries and remained unforgiven. Surely he and Eric must Reap forever to expiate their sins. We're safe.
Alan passed the sugar, started a grocery list, and continued to build a Heaven in the midst of purgatory.
