Rating M

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyers owns all things Twilight

Big love and thanks to Planetblue and Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy for prereading this blasphemy.
And to my Holy Water spritzing beta, Carrie ZM – thanks for the prayers, baby girl.

Sin (EPOV)

"A wager?" she asks with a tilt of her head, curious. "Like a bet?"

"A bet. A gamble. Whatever you'd like to call it."

"Sounds risky."

"The stakes are high."

"And the odds?"

"You know the house always wins."

"Whose house are we playing in?"

"That's a question of faith, I suppose." I dust my finger over her blossom soft bottom lip once more. "What do you say, Virtue? Care to take a leap of faith?"

Cautious as always, her eyes move back to the human. "What's the wager?"

"It's simple. We both take a run at our shepherd, and see if he's willing to be led into temptation …"

"Or delivered from evil," she finishes in a whisper.

She's quiet for a few moments, watching the barrel-chested minister tap his Fitbit as his knee bounces anxiously beneath the table. I take the opportunity to study my long-lost paramour. Beautiful as always with her delicate features and her bright, golden eyes. Even in her human form, she's a sight to behold, looking like salvation and a silver-lined sin all at once.

Images of our life before flash through my mind. Her long, brown hair tumbling down before spilling over her wings. Her wry smile as she teased me with her touch and her tongue and wicked, wicked words panted from her angel lips.

My chest tightens when I remember the one word she whispered every time we joined. The only word that ever mattered to me.

Yours.

"What are we wagering here?" she asks, snapping me back from my memories. "Because I can't risk his soul."

"Of course not. Soul collecting isn't my department anyway."

She snorts. "Then what is it you're looking to get out of this?"

Licking my lips, I watch my fingertip trail lightly down her throat. "One more night in paradise."

"I'm afraid I don't have that kind of authority up there."

"I'm not looking for access to up there." My hand slips down her body, lower and lower only to stop just shy of the rapture it seeks.

Wide-eyed, my sweet Virtue takes a shaky breath. "I … I don't know," she murmurs, but the way her cheeks flush and her gaze casts downward tells me it's a lie, unless ...

"Is there someone else?"

"Of course not," she chastens sharply. "Never."

"Only me, then?"

"Yes. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I'd hoped."

"And prayed?" she asks, teasing.

"Definitely not. But I am happy to hear you didn't take up with that archangel, Michael."

Tossing her head back, she laughs. "Michael? Really?"

"What? He always had a smile for you." And I suspect a raging hard-on too.

She hums but doesn't reply which makes me wonder.

"Aren't you curious about me?"

"I didn't think I had the right to ask, and I'm …" she trails off.

"You what?"

"I'm not sure I want to know if there were others after me."

"Others? Plural? Bella, you wound me." Gripping her chin lightly, I turn her head to face me. "Only you, Virtue."

"Good to know." The corners of her mouth tip up. "Now, what's in it for me if I win?"

"Spoken like a true human."

Sighing, she shakes her head. "You're infuriating."

I smirk. "Always was."

"True." Leaning forward, she places her elbow on the table and props her chin in her hand. "But I think … No, I know what I want when I win."

"Anything."

"I want you to tell me that you still believe."

"In God?"

"In love."

"Ha!" I draw back, recoiling at the word. "I don't think I'm capable of that anymore."

She mimics my movement from earlier, turning me to face her. "I believe you are."

I don't know what to say to that, so I extend my hand. "Now that we have the terms settled, should we shake on it?"

"I suppose." She slides her palm against mine and grips it lightly. "I'd wish you luck, but that'd be disingenuous."

"And I'd wish you the same," I reply with a grin, "but you don't stand a chance, Virtue."

Dragging her teeth over her bottom lip, she shakes my hand once. "We'll see about that."

"Willful as always."

"In the interest of fairness, what questions do you have about our shepherd?"

"None."

"You don't want any information on him?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"He's human." I shrug. "What more do I need to know?"

She stares at me a beat. "You know they're not all the same, right?"

"I do, except they are."

"How so?"

"See this is what you and your ranks get wrong—"

"Those were your ranks once too," she interjects, condescension lacing her tone.

"These humans of His with their morally bankrupt free will and their consequence-free existence aren't motivated by the virtues He intended."

"Well, this one is." She points to the shepherd.

I scrunch up my nose. "You sure about that?"

She nods, but her expression isn't nearly as certain as she'd like me to believe.

"Why, because he's got his nose in the good book and regurgitates a few parables from thousands of years ago every Sunday?"

"Of course not."

"Why doesn't your King of Kings do anything about that?"

"What?"

"The Bible. Down here they call it the Word of God, but if you ask me, it's a finger-wagging list of shit fragile men put together to make themselves feel superior."

"Oh my," she mutters.

"What? Am I wrong? Are their do's and don'ts not terribly convenient when judging and shaming thy neighbor?"

She gives me a look.

"And what kills me about the humans is that they built this whole belief system around it, but refuse to evolve it."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning if you had a brand spanking new car, would you use a 1000-year-old manual to maintain it?"

"Probably not."

"See?"

"So, you think He should commission an updated version?"

"That's the responsible thing to do, but here's the rub," I gesture vaguely to the people surrounding us, "none of them would listen if He did. They're all too busy trying to condemn anyone who doesn't sin like they do."

"Even the righteous fall short of the glory of God, Edward." Something about the way she says it makes me think she's not referring to them anymore.

I chuckle when she quirks her brow at me, confirming my suspicions. "I suppose I can attest to that, but the difference is my sin of questioning Him was unforgivable enough to banish me from paradise, while here on earth, forgiveness is supposedly given freely to many with hate in their hearts and bible quotes on their tongues."

She reaches up and runs her thumb over the angry crease in my brow. "Despite what you think, He was merciful with you."

"Why? Because He sent me to this purgatory and not to hell?"

"Because you're still worthy of love."

"His?"

Taking my hand in hers, she kisses my palm. "And mine."

"I guess it's true what they say then."

"What's that?"

"Even angels have their demons."

"You're no demon."

"Maybe not." I squeeze her hand. "But I'm no angel."

A/N: Thanks for reading and giving this fic a chance!

Loved all the fic recs you guys suggested! Keep them coming!

I was chatting with Carrie ZM the other day about fandom writers who we wish were still writing Twific. Our wish list was a mile long - there are so many whose words we miss. Sound off, fandom - which writer do you wish would write Twific again?

Thanks so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, fav'd. rec'd, and lurked this fic. See you next Thursday!