Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N:myotismon13, you don't happen to be RPing Raphael, do you? 'Cuz if you are, I'll have you know that Michael's very upset at the moment... and definitely not in the mood to go and 'play,' like Raphael so charmingly put it. Which of course will make it all the better when Raphael finally decides to try and make an effort. Which won't be happening any time soon, I suspect.

Chapter 13:

Angelic Attention

This time Raphael woke up not to a headache but to the cheerful sound of somebody singing. A smile rose to his lips as he listened to Gabriel's voice flowing from the next room. There were many things he loved in the other angel, and Gabriel's sweet, melodic voice was most certainly one of them. No matter how tired, irritated, or distressed he was, the mere sound of his lover's voice was enough to soothe his nerves.

A moment later the voice was followed by its owner. Gabriel smiled brightly at him. "Are you still feeling unwell?" he asked gently, walking to the side of the bed. "You do look better at least."

"I also feel pretty much better," Raphael replied with a lazy smirk. "Much thanks to you."

At that, Gabriel laughed. "Well, I may be as skilled in healing as you are," the brunet angel said with a hint of mischief in his voice, "but I do at least know how to ease your pains."

"So it does appear." Using all his angelic willpower to resist the urge to once again grab Gabriel and stay in the bed with him for an undefined amount of time, Raphael then looked at his lover questioningly. "So. What do we have to do today?" he asked, not really wanting to know but aware that he had to.

"Well, yet another practice of the main choir, as is to be expected, seeing as Christmas is the day after tomorrow," Gabriel told him. "Then some more paper work, and don't you give me that look, I definitely didn't assign it, and not much else. Although I was thinking we could visit Aziraphale later today."

"What is this?" asked Raphael, flopping himself to his stomach. This felt much better for his wings, which were pretty messy after all the sleeping and other bed-involving activities he had indulged in during the past couple of days. "You haven't visited your brother for centuries, and now twice during a week? Never mind that you insist on taking me along. Not that I don't want to go, far be that from me, but what exactly is on your mind? A mutual meeting-the-family? The demon will probably be there, too, you know."

"Well, partly it is indeed a meeting-the-family, or at least what little family either I or Aziraphale have, which is mainly each other," Gabriel responded with a light smile. His expression then turning serious, he continued, "Mostly it is that I want to check up on him; he was pretty bad off back then. No matter how good job you did, he might have some problems, never mind Crowley. His hands were completely burned and he didn't seem to even notice, the poor boy. I truly hope he took my advice and went to sleep."

"Indeed." Raphael finally pushed himself upright, wishing his robes on. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Well... there are some rumours around the Heaven," Gabriel told him. "Mostly they are about Aziraphale and Crowley, usually without names, of course -- you wouldn't believe some of those stories! -- but they do mention you, too. Last thing I heard you practically not only dragged Aziraphale back from death, but also reformed his entire ethereal body and rearranged the ashes into his corporeal form. So, you'd better expect a fair amount of stares once we go out."

Now, Raphael groaned. He did not enjoy being the centre of attention. When he was healing somebody, he usually was just that, but at least then he had his healing job to distract him from all the stares directed at him. Now everybody was bound to be staring at him. He was definitely not going to enjoy this.

Gabriel stepped to his side, a smile on his lips. Leaning forward, the brunet archangel murmured into the red-haired one's ear, "Try to stand it. I promise I'll make it up to you later."

Therefore, although not exactly cheerful as he exited the apartment beside his lover, Raphael was definitely not as gloomy as he had been just a moment earlier.

"And where do you think you're going?" asked Aziraphale, raising an eyebrow at Crowley. "I thought you were going to stay home today." He couldn't really help the warm sensation that spread through him at the mere thought of Crowley's home being their now mostly shared flat above the bookshop. It was rather true, though. Little by little the demon's possessions had started to drift to the angel's flat. Having never truly considered his own flat 'home,' rather just an accessory and a place to sleep at, Crowley was adjusting pretty well to the change. He even no more protested too badly when Aziraphale was nice to his plants. As weird as it sounded, Aziraphale nowadays visited the flat Crowley still owned more often than before the demon had practically moved in with him. Well, those visits were mostly just tagging along when Crowley went to get yet another possession of his, but still.

"Well, it has something to do with your Christmas present," replied Crowley, a smirk on his face. "Of course, if you don't want anything, I can stay at home..." Seeing Aziraphale's startled expression, he laughed. "Don't worry, angel. I'll be back soon enough. I'll pick us some lunch on the way, okay?"

"Okay." Aziraphale now smiled, nodded, and let himself be kissed by the demon before Crowley left the shop. A moment later he found himself enjoying a hot cup of tea, working on a crossword puzzle. He was quickly getting used to his new corporeal form, which was pretty much the same as the old one except for being of a more slender build. Although Crowley had told that he loved Aziraphale regardless of his appearance, the angel had noticed something interesting in the demon's eyes when he'd first tried on the new body. At the moment he was seriously considering just a bit of cheating to stay in shape.

Suddenly his supernatural senses picked up a wave of angelic power nearby. It was not one of the archangels, and definitely not anybody whom he knew. At first he just ignored it -- after all, hadn't Crowley said that they were to be left in peace, as ordered by Him? -- but then a feeling of uneasiness began to spread within him. Something was definitely not right at the moment. Not at all.

Shrugging a bit, he tried to ignore the feeling, taking it as a product of overactive imagination. For a moment he was actually able to concentrate on his crossword. That is, until another sensation hit him.

This feeling came from the same source as the manifestation of angelic power, he knew that. However, this was not just the basic feeling of holy power. There was something... hostile... about this sensation.

And it was getting nearer to Crowley all the time.

Next chapter:

Lower angels. Crowley. Holy water. 'Nuff said.