"Birds of Pray"

Chapter 6

"She Talks To Angels"

Katherine was sitting on a park bench with another woman. As they talked, their children played in the sandbox under their watchful eyes.

"Phil's just never home anymore," Katherine's companion said with a sigh. "OK, I knew what I was getting into when I married a doctor, but still…"

"It's the same with her father," Katherine said, gesturing at the sandbox. "I never know when he's going to show up for supper… or even if he's going to show up for supper!"

The other woman laughed. "I hear you!"

A little blonde girl came over and tugged on Katherine's sleeve. "What is it, honey?" she asked the child.

"She's telling scary stories again! Make her stop!"

"Who is, sweetie?" Katherine asked, frowning. She glanced over at the sandbox and realized that none of the little blonde girls in pastel dresses playing there were hers. Where's my daughter? she wondered.

The blonde child was still tugging on her sleeve. "Make her stop, Miss Henley!"

Numbly, Katherine got up and allowed the child to lead her away.

There was a flock of perfect little blonde girls in pastel dresses sitting on the patch of grass in front of the wooden balance beam. They stared up in rapt, horrified attention at the little girl who was perched there, perched like a bird.

This porcelain-skinned child in the long black dress wasn't blonde like the rest; her softly curling hair was as black as a raven's wing.

"And then," she was saying, leaning forward and lowering her voice, "he opens your mouth and – "

"What are you doing?" Katherine demanded.

The child stared back at her with light blue eyes that were fringed with long black lashes. She had a lovely heart-shaped face and a little pink bow-shaped mouth. The entire effect should have been quite charming, but Katherine found that she wasn't a bit charmed.

That's not Greg's daughter! her mind screamed, but she forced herself to remain calm. Whoever her father was, this odd little girl was still her child.

"They wanted to know what Daddy does," the raven-haired girl explained with a shrug. "So I'm telling them."

"All right… I think that's enough. Come on, we're going home."

The little girl stood and jumped down from her perch. As she took Katherine's hand, she turned back to the flock of perfect little blonde girls in their pastel dresses. "Next time," she said quietly, "I'll tell you about what we did on Take Your Daughter To Work Day."

"No you won't!" Katherine gritted out through clenched teeth, dragging the child along.

The little girl looked up at her, frowning. "Mommy, are you mad at me?"

"Of course not," Katherine said with a laugh that sounded forced even to her own ears.

"Do you love me?" When Katherine didn't reply, the little girl's frown deepened. "Do you?" she demanded.

Katherine woke to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. She looked at the clock on the nightstand and her eyes widened. She was usually an early riser… how could she have slept until eleven?

"And what the hell kind of dream was that?" she muttered, getting out of bed and trudging into the bathroom.

She flipped on the light, looked in the mirror, and made a face at what she saw. She reached into the shower and got the water running, and then turned on the radio that sat on the back of the toilet.

"Says she talks to angels" Chris Robinson wailed. "Says they all know her name."

She stared blearily at the radio.

"Oh yeah, she talks to angels, says they call her out by her name – "

"Gahhh," Katherine said and switched the radio off, silencing The Black Crowes.

If only she could silence the snarky voice in her head as easily. Interesting dream, wasn't it? it asked.

"Not particularly," she said out loud.

Some people say that dreams are all about our most secret desires, the ones we can't share with anyone – not even ourselves.

She didn't even want to consider that.

"It was just a weird dream, that's all," she told herself. "And the only thing it means is that I shouldn't eat cold spaghetti right before going to bed!"

When she reached the steps and smelled coffee, she realized that Gabriel must be in the kitchen.

"I hope he didn't try to make eggs again," she muttered.

She found him sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a rather damp copy of the New York Post.

"Good morning, Katherine," he said, looking up from his paper. "Did you sleep well?"

"Um…" Does he know about that dream I had? she wondered. Possibly. Heck, he could have put the stupid thing in her brain in the first place; she wouldn't put it past him. She decided it was best to avoid the question entirely. "You look like you got wet," she observed, changing the subject.

"Yeah, a little." He ran a hand through his hair. "I got caught in the rain."

"It's not raining out," she said, gesturing at the bright sunlight coming in through the window.

"It is in New York."

She blinked. "Oh."

"Where did you think I got the paper?"

"You know, Gabriel… I hadn't really thought about it."

He reached into his long black coat and withdrew another newspaper from an inside pocket, this one folded. "Got the Times too," he said, putting it on the table.

"The New York Times?"

"No… London. And it was raining there, too."

She smiled. "Wow…you have very eclectic tastes!" She went to the stove and picked up the saucepan. She found the tea strainer he'd left in the sink, placed it over a mug and poured the coffee through it. "I see your eye is all better," she observed, sitting down.

"Yeah," he said, reaching up to touch it absently as he read. "We heal fast."

The long white feather was still on the table where she'd left it. "Is that yours?" she asked, gesturing at the feather. "I found it on the floor yesterday."

"Yeah, it's mine." He shrugged apologetically. "I'm molting."

She nodded; by this point, nothing fazed her. "Good thing I ordered that HEPA filter… and by the way, some guys from Sears are coming to install it today. Don't give them a hard time, OK?"

"Who, me?" he asked innocently, and she gave him a look.

"Hey, that reminds me… I suppose you know I had lunch with Lucifer yesterday."

His head jerked up. "Whaaaat?"

He didn't know! Katherine realized. Interesting…

"I ran into him at the mall when I went to Sears," she continued, and was struck by how mundane it all sounded. "He likes meatball subs with lots of sauce. And," she continued, watching him carefully for a reaction, "he told me all about you."

"Huh," Gabriel said, and went back to his paper. "Don't believe anything he says."

"Oh, I don't," she agreed.

"He lies like you breathe," he continued, and then was silent for a moment. "So what did he say about me?"

"He said you're a nut," she told him bluntly. "And that you've always been a nut."

"Aaaah, who cares what he says?"

"Gabriel, if you didn't care, why did you ask?"

"Curiosity."

Katherine sipped her coffee and made a face. "You know what? Maybe I should teach you how to use the coffee maker. What do you think?"

He shrugged. "If you don't think I'll burn down the house with it."

"It's possible," she allowed. "But unlikely." She stood, went to the sink and dumped the rest of her coffee down the drain. "And even if you do, it beats drinking more of this," she joked, and was rewarded with a smile.

When she sat down again she saw that he had abandoned the tabloid and was holding the feather by its quill, studying it intently.

"Why did Lucifer tell me you're a nut?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Who knows? Trying to turn you against me, maybe?"

"Maybe," she agreed.

"That would be just like him, you know." He preened the feather absently as he spoke, smoothing its barbs down so that the long white flight feather gradually became sleek and smooth again under his practiced touch. "He likes to make trouble… you might say it's his raison d'etrê."

"It's really interesting that you put it that way, considering some of the stuff he said to me yesterday."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his attention still focused on grooming the feather.

"He insinuated that he was created just so he could Fall." Her eyebrows went up meaningfully as she continued. "And you just said that making trouble is his reason for being, which kind of goes along with what he – "

"Aaah, he'll say anything," Gabriel told her dismissively. "You know that. Don't let him suck you in."

"All right," she agreed, filing this new information away for further thought later. Somehow she couldn't convince herself that he'd chosen that particular phrase by chance. Do angels make Freudian slips? she wondered.

"So tell me something," she said, leaning forward in her seat. "Why did you lick me yesterday morning?"

"Well… you know…" He seemed embarrassed for some reason.

"No, I don't know. Tell me!"

"I… uh… I thought you'd like that better than… than… " His gaze was riveted to the feather in his hands. "Um… you know."

Yes, he was definitely embarrassed, and Katherine was quite amused… not to mention extremely curious. "Gabriel, I have no idea what you're trying to say. Just tell me."

"Look, I thought you'd like that better than having sex with me," he blurted out, and she nearly fell out of her chair.

"What?"

"Well, it's… we're not supposed to, you know, be with… ah… with women. I told you about nephilim… it's not a good mix, your kind and mine. But some of us break the rules every now and then… I don't know, maybe with an especially pretty girl. They can't help themselves, I guess."

"And?"

He shrugged. "Once a woman is marked that way, no other angel can touch her."

"But wait a minute… you told me about that boy's mother... you almost killed that poor woman!" Katherine reminded him. "Didn't you?"

"That didn't really work out the way I planned," he reminded her dryly. "Turns out that The Boss was watching after all."

"So, when you licked me – "

"It gave you the same protection. Yeah. You know, I actually wasn't sure it was going to work."

Her mouth fell open. "You're joking! You mean you sent me out there with protection that you weren't sure would actually work?"

"I figured if I suggested that we have sex you'd shoot me again!"

"I wouldn't have done that…" Her voice took on a humorous tone. "Because I don't own a gun."

"See? I knew you wouldn't have reacted real well to that."

"Probably not." She thought for a minute. "So Lucifer thinks we're having an affair… or at least that we've slept together."

He looked surprised, as though he hadn't considered this. "Yeah, I guess he probably does. I didn't think that far ahead."

To his surprise, she grinned. "That'll really mess with his head – way to go, Gabriel!"

"Sometimes I get things right," he said smugly. He inspected the feather carefully, licked a finger and smoothed a stray piece of down back into place. "He knows – or he thinks he knows – that I don't mess with mortal women… and that you wouldn't have me on a bet. So he'll probably be sitting down there in his basement scratching his head over this for the next century or two."

"Maybe he thinks that you just did it to protect me… and that I did it because I'm afraid of him," she suggested.

"Ahhhh, it's pointless to guess what he thinks because we'll be wrong every time. I've never been able to figure out how his mind works!"

She leaned back in her chair, thinking. "I bet he told me you're a nut because he figured I wouldn't be thrilled about sleeping with a crazyman."

"Could be. So tell me something, Katherine… if you'd thought it was the only way to be safe from him… would you have done it?"

She blinked. "I don't… um… you know, I really don't know. I'd have to think about it."

"Yeah… I guess you would," he agreed.

"So how about you?" she asked. "Would you have done it? To protect me?"

He lowered his eyes, staring at the feather. "I never touched mortal women because I didn't want to father nephilim. When I became human…" he shrugged. "I didn't have to worry about that. But now I do – again."

"I'm on the pill," she told him. "So – would you have done it?"

He looked amused. "You just don't give up, do you?"

"No. Do you?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Better than most," she agreed. "Now answer my question."

"Well, Katherine… I really don't know. I'd have to think about it."

It took her a moment to realize that he'd just parroted her reply to his original question.

"Oooo! You are the most exasperating person I've ever met!"

"I try," he said, standing and moving close to her chair. He smiled down at her and slipped the long white feather behind her right ear, quill first. "Silly little monkey," he said, tapping her lightly on the nose with one finger. Both his tone and the gesture were affectionate, and she smiled.

"Birdbrain," she replied, but there was no malice behind the insult.

"So, you wanna show me how the coffee maker works?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I got some of my info about feathers and preening from The Feathers Site: Everything About Feathers.