Nicole: Glad you liked it. –glomps- I'm so thrilled to know you actually enjoyed my view of Jay and Silent Bob. –wipes sweat from forehead- I was so worried I ruined them. –cringes- Thanks again. Keep reviewing.

Sam: -jumps up and down- Okay, brace yourself, my good pal. I have created a character so Samantha, it will bring a complete essence never before seen among the like's of Dogma fan fiction. Behold…you. Okay, so I make one small reference to you in this chapter. However, you will be fully introduced in Chapter Four. And I mean, fully introduce. Just wait, please, be patient. –begs- And have fun! Joking. I'm not gunna make you wait any longer. –drum roll- Just wanted to see you twitch. Hah. Keep reading, love!

Campion: Thanks for the support, and together we shall keep the Dogma category here on FF alive. –thrusts fist into the air- I agree, however, Loki and Bartleby, although amusing, are rather annoying when found in abundance. Gah. It seems to be a cornucopia of L/B love. –sigh- Oh, but thanks for saying you like my Metatron and Jay. I tried to make them unique, but not stray too much for their original form. Hope you enjoyed, and don't worry…I shall keep writing, and I won't stop. Many, many goods time ahead. Keep on reading and reviewing! –huggles-

gundam metatron0084: Thanks, again. –blushes- I shall continue, and thanks for the compliment. Oh, and just for you…lots of good Jay and Silent Bob in next chapter. I don't wanna give too much away…but, uhm…aw, -shrugs-, they start a bar fight. It's great, really. Keep reading and reviewing.

Raynee: It turns out I've had about four chapter's done for, like, five days. Heh. Just never gotten around to updating. It seems as though you've enjoyed my fic, and for that, I thank you very much. –glomps- I shall, as you said; "BRING IT ON!"

Lady Lestat: Jay, as always, cracked me up too. I had to make sure he was incredibly, well, Jay-ish. Didn't wanna upset you guys, so I tried, and I'm glad you think I've succeeded. Oh, and Metatron vibes towards Alessia? –spooky jaws theme- Maybe…but we shall have to wait and see. I'm not giving ANYTHING away. But yes, he does care for her "the least bit" Well, read and find out.

Alex: Thanks for the compliments. And I'm sorry I didn't update "soon."

Bailey: Thanks for your review. It was actually what made me start writing again. I whipped up this chapter in the last twenty minutes, and I'm hoping to keep up the work every night between my busy schedule. I've got tons of homework lately, as I've just begun high school, and some auditions for various artistic things. However, I'm going to fit this in my schedule as much as possible. But truly, you are my muse. It is because of you that the rest of this exists. Remember that! And I'm sure I'll get in touch with you soon. PS: How would you like me to write you in as one of the characters? I've got the perfect spot.

A/N: I want to thank you all for reviewing and reading! It's great to see people interested. I shall try to keep having personal comments to start off every chapter as long as you keep hanging on! –smiles- Thank you again, and remember: If you have any suggestions or want to see/hear something…tell me. I'll try to fit in what I can. And I'm sorry it took me so long.

All my devotion,

Aly

Chapter Three

C'est La Vie

She was late for work, had a headache, felt hung over, and wanted nothing more than to strangle God for messing around with her life more than need be. All that, and a fashionable, chunky heel on a new pair of suede pumps was coming loose; due to the stairs at the Fifth Avenue parking lot.

Alessia wanted no more than to be back in her comfortable bed, with her comfortable pillow, and comfortable blanket. Where it was warm, and cozy, and serene. Perhaps, since it was just a fantasy, she could pair herself alongside a tall, dark, and handsome man who she would snuggle close and allow him to run his hands through her hair. At this thought, she sighed allowed, but regained her horrid mood as she realized she was back with reality. No bed, no pillow, no handsome man. Instead she had to deal with the morning traffic, a rough walk through the eerie, abandoned parking lot, coffee that tasted like it came from the rear side of a donkey, and the cold, damp streets of New York. At least she didn't have to bother herself with the other two morons, Jay and Non-Speaking Bob or whatever, who had seemingly left the house in order to…what did Metatron say again? Oh yes, "receive a mission statement from central control." Right, whatever that meant.

"So, tell me what I have to do again?" Alessia questioned roughly, briefcase in hand and purse on her shoulder as she swung open the doors to the Law Firm Office, entering the lobby. The glass piece's released a clattering noise as they hit the wall's behind them, the force of Alessia's effort echoed relentlessly through the main floor of the building and she didn't dare to make eye contact with anyone, knowing their faces would be all but cheery. Her tone seemed rushed and agitated, or frustrated and annoyed, possibly a mix of the two; however, the Metatron couldn't tell. Mortal emotions were far too complex to categorize, as much as he envied them, classifying them wasn't his strong suit. Besides, he knew as well as many other immortal's, emotions just got in the way of things. It was better off not to have them.

"Hello? I asked you something, Metatron. Damn," she muttered, raising her eyebrow's in impatience, "I don't have all day!"

"Actually," Metatron mocked under his breathe, "you have seven."

"What was that?" Alessia asked at his barely audible word's, not bothering to cease her pacing.

"Oh, nothing, nothing." He added softly, a smirk grazing his crimson lips.

"Now, you're to-do list is plentiful. You have to quit your job-" Metatron started un-fazed by her rude tone, but was interrupted by a noise of fear erupting from Alessia, who grimaced and winced at the thought. She stifled a groan, as he watched her impatiently, "May I continue?" He snapped, rolling his chocolate eye's.

"I'd rather you not." She barked loudly, blushing fiercely as a flock load of stare's turned swiftly towards them, "Morning Myrtle," Alessia sighed softly through her teeth as she put on a forced smile, turning to wave to the Secretary working the Main Desk, as the two made their way towards the Elevator. The woman, clad in a suite of peacock blue, stiffly waved and grinned mischievously.

It was then Alessia received the mental slap. Myrtle Mayor was on of the loudest git's of them all, a glory seeking gossip to say the least. Oh, that was just great. Now the rumor's would be spreading. Give it a day or so and the entire building would be rushed with mad whisper's of Alessia Stalin seeing an older man, who even accompanied her to work when the divorce paper's of her previous marriage weren't even signed. Perfect, absolutely brilliant. However, from what the Metatron was saying, she wondered if she'd be around the Firm long enough to receive the accusations, "I really rather you don't continue." She added, "Actually I'd like it if we just sent me off to China to, oh, I dunno… help some poor kid work on his rice farm or something."

"Well, that's too bad, because I'm going to damn well tell you anyways," The Metatron replied firmly, pushing the elevator button and crossing his arms against his chest in wait, "You have to quit your job-" He paused incase Alessia wished to add another amusing sound effect, but at hearing nothing but a disgruntled sigh, he continued; un-harmed. "Resolve your marital disputes-"

"What the hell? Okay, just because John's a complete ass doesn't mean I have issues and if we're on the god damned topic of-" Alessia quipped, but in realizing the Metatron's grieving stare, shut her mouth and cast her eye's upward to where the elevator was landing. 24th floor… out of 25. It still had some ways to go, and she prayed that it would hurry. Then she realized prayer was all she needed, she had an angel right beside her. The irony. He was right, God did have a wicked sense of humor.

"Okay, are you with me?" Metatron asked hunching his shoulder's a little, weariness in his gesture. When she nodded, still watching the floor numbers, he sustained, "Quit your job, solve your marital disputes, search your soul for who you are, and create a miracle." Metatron listed them off, using his finger's as counter's, each one out-stretching as he noted the requirement's.

Alessia simply sighed once more, feeling the hot tears welling in her eye's, and forcing back the urge to scream and kick anything nearby. The entire, "going to heaven" thing wasn't as easy as she thought. It didn't require simply going to Church, or saying a prayer before every meal. Hell, now she had to create a miracle.

Oh well, it was better she focused on the trivial tasks first. Job, then marriage, then soul searching, then miracle. She bit down on her lower lip anxiously, and willed away the sensation rising in her throat, the sobbing bubble wanting to be popped. It was all too much, too much to handle.

She was thankful that at that moment the door's to the elevator opened with a "ding", and finding it empty, they both stepped inside. Now, only a ride to the 25th floor lay ahead of them.

Both stepped into the compartment, the sound of echoing silence swept over them, neither knowing what to say. Metatron was sure he should have broken the stillness, re-assured her that everything would be fine. Instead, he took the time to observe her out of the corner of his eye.

Absentmindedly, of course.

She was pretty, for a mortal, almost worthy of the title of gorgeous. If she lost the frown and released some of her frustration, maybe put on a smile, she'd boost her self a good ten notches. Possibly even to heavenly. Okay, so he had to admit. She was beautiful, breath-catching, jaw-dropping immaculate. Flawless skin, delicate features, stunning blue eyes, and the kind of voluptuous body most men would only encounter in their dreams. The way she carried herself showed a sign of confidence, of superiority, and it took all the effort her could muster not to drool. But once again, she was mortal. And she was 26. Surely, in his mortal form, he was nearing somewhere 40 and 45. Oh, but how fitting she looked in that business suit. A black pin-stripped skirt, that she tugged on occasionally as it rose up her welcoming thighs, and matching French-tailored jacket. A simple, crystal sky blouse was worn underneath, bringing out the feistiness in her eye's. Her hair had been styled to perfection, so that each strand of the platinum, pale gold hung in place exactly as it should; tucked behind her ears in an aristocratic manner and flipped at the bottom for a hint of fun.

Suddenly, he was caught up in his thought's as the ring of a cell-phone de-railed his train, his eye's quickly danced to the floor. A pattern of horrid and multi-colored squares and circle's greeted his pupil's and he had to allow his eyelid's to work as blind's, shutting out the bright and excruciatingly painful design.

Alessia dug into her left hip pocket and produce the small mobile phone, flipping it open on instinct.

"Hello. This is Alessia Stalin, Criminal Defense Lawyer, at your service." She chirped cheerfully, her voice never missing a beat, sounding well rehearsed and terribly thought out; it was the kind of syrupy pitch every good salesman and woman had to acquire before their big break.

"Oh, hello Lydia! Yes, yes, I got your e-mail. Uh huh, oh I know! Really? Of course! Are you kidding? Well, I always knew you should get the honor. It was too predictable. Alright, well I'll talk to you later! Love you too." Alessia giggled mockingly into the phone, her word's sarcastically cheery, and after making a quick kissing noise she snapped the cell shut with a look of disgust forming across her pale face. She released a loud, "Ugh." And rubbed her temple's between her thumb and fore-finger.

"Who was it?" The Metatron asked with a smirk, quirking a mocha eyebrow in her direction.

"Lydia Baxter. Criminal Defense Lawyer from the 23rd floor. Sent me an e-mail telling me she needed to talk, said it was urgent. So, I called her. Apparently the urgent news was that she won the company's year round achievement award for her work on the Trudent case. Want to know what's funny," Alessia's tone was full of anger know, as she rubbed her temple's subconsciously, not caring whether he wanted to hear of not, "That case was mine. I was almost finished it when my lovely boss's boss decides to re-assign me. So, my boss puts me on a temporary share case, and sends me to work from home. Some stupid thing about a mother stealing diaper's from a drug store. Diaper's for fuck's sake's! Talk about a shit job. No pun intended. Then Lydia waltzes in, sign's the paper's, and takes full damn credit for my work on the Trudent file." Alessia fumed, as the elevator door's opened, and the two stepped out. Metatron couldn't help but let a grin dance across his livid lip's, she was so fired up. It was quite attractive.

"And you wanna know the worst part?" Alessia said, her tone lowering, as she shook a finger at his nose in melancholy, "The only reason she convinced my boss's boss to let her have the case is because she was banging him six ways to fucking Sunday!" Turning quickly towards the wall on her left, she carefully allowed her head to find it's way to the tacky floral wallpaper again and again, "God hates me. He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Metatron eased her, his tone full of an unforeseen gentleness, "But, what you did was wrong." Metatron added, pulling her away from the wall with a caring and aged hand.

"What I did was wrong?" Alessia's eye's widened and she felt the sudden urge to smack him. Hard.

"You lied to her."

"WHEN?' Alessia protested in her own defense, pushing away from him and crossing her arms under her breasts, knowing she would stand corrected.

"On the phone. You lied through your teeth, Alessia. God doesn't take fondly to liars." Metatron added a slight clucking noise with his tongue, shaking a prominent finger and reaching out to poke her on her nose. That delicate, up-turned nose. She swatted his finger away, he mocked a hurtful frown, and she turned on her heels; proceeding down the hallway.

"But aren't you supposed to help me, make God like me?" Alessia questioned as they ambled down the corridor, him following her heels.

"Exactly, and therefore you have to call her back." Metatron allowed his eye's to read the number's on the door's as they sauntered past, the sound of her loose suede pump clacking in his ear. 658, 659, 660…

"BUT I HATE HER!" Alessia spun around, her eye's bearing into his, "I CAN'T STAND THAT LITTLE PRUDE!"

"So, tell her that. Tell her everything you've ever thought about her. And I mean, everything." Metatron seemed un-affected by her sudden assault, as she walked closer and closer to him, to the point where their noses seemed to touch.

"No, way! I won't fucking do it." Alessia chortled un-believingly her tone harsh and in a icy whisper, "You want me to phone her and tell her everything I've ever wanted to say?"

Metatron nodded.

"And God won't be mad?" Alessia backed away, turning around once again, and continuing to walk down the hallway. She had now time for his foolish game's, she had a job to quit and an ex-husband to spite.

"No, God will be pleased. Pleased that human's are acting like human's. Telling the truth and accepting it for what it is." Metatron's eye's continued to scan the room numbers. 661, 662, 663…

"Okay, if you're positive, then you're positive." Alessia groaned, stopping in her tracks but not turning around.

"Does that mean I'm right?" Metatron huffed, his tone sickeningly self-righteous.

"No, it means you're positive. Not right, positive, you insensitive jerk." Alessia retrieved the phone from her hip pocket and quickly used 69 to trace back the last incoming call, placing it to her ear, she continued to walk down the hallway.

"Insensitive jerk? I'll attribute that to the fact that you're going through a tough time right now," Metatron called after her.

"No, attribute it to the fact that you're an insensitive jerk." Alessia barked, letting out a small chuckle so he knew she was playing. However, when he went to retort back with a sarcastic barb, he was stopped by her eye's lighting up and a finger raising instantly to her lips.

"Hello? Lydia? It's me, Alessia Stalin. You see…I have a few thing's I need to tell you. Please, it'll go so much faster if you don't ask questions, don't interrupt, and shut you overly large gossiping mouth for once. Okay." Alessia inhaled deeply, shutting her eye's momentarily and showing off her grey shadow, "Truth be told, Lydia; I don't like you. Not at all. And it ticks me off that you got that god damned award. You wanna know why it ticks me off? Well. I'm going to tell you. But let me take it nice and slow so you understand. One, you stole my case. You know it, I know it, and that ugly excuse for a wig you wear probably knows it too. Two, the only reason you ever got near such a superior case is because you screwed your boss all the way to Timbuktu and back. You didn't think you were actually GOOD at your job, did you? Ha. You, my good friend, are a dirty, filthy, lying, cheating whore. Not to mention the fact you are married, and with three fucking kids! Oh, and since we're on the path to righteousness here…let's just be brutally honest. Everyone know's you're really 39, and if you really wanted to lie, 27 wasn't a good fucking place to start."

Clicking the phone shut abruptly, she smirked, and released a long-awaited breathe of fresh air. He blue eye's reached his of intoxicating mocha, and she allowed them to linger for a well needed while.

"Feel good?" Metatron asked, amused, smiling faintly.

"Feel good?" Alessia laughed whole-heartedly, a weight seemingly lifted from her shoulders, "I feel great. Absolutely great."

Metatron's eye's glanced once more at the number's; 664, 665, and finally, 666. How oddly coincidental.

"This is it, eh?" Alessia straightened out her jacket, and flattened her skirt in an orderly manner, trying to obtain an even higher level of perfection. She emitted a small cough, as if clearing her throat for a long and arduous speech, before taking a step closer to the door.

"Just go in there, tell her everything, and leave. It's simple." Metatron placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and allowed his finger's to caress her re-assuringly, "It's what needs to be done. You know it."

"Ya, I know it." Alessia retorted in a mocking manner as she winced, "But she's a good friend of mine, Metatron, I can't just waltz up and say, 'Hey, sorry to bother you, Mrs. Beddington, but an angel told me I needed to quit my job or I'm spending an eternity in hell.' Damn!"

"Sure you can," Metatron released his grip on her shoulder un-willingly, "But I'd leave out the part about the angel, and an eternity in hell… I don't need to be assigned to help you escape from an asylum, this job is more than enough already."