Shana – Sorry, no steamy love scenes…at least, not yet! Thanks for reviewing, it's always good to know that I'm getting Angela and John down right. I know what you mean, the whole category seems to be a bit dominated by Chastine! Not that I have a problem with Chastine, it just seems out of character. Anyway, thanks again for reviewing, and I hope to hear from you again!

fanficgeek – Thank you so much for reviewing all four chapters at once! That totally made my day, when I opened my inbox and found four reviews! Yeah, I love that line too. It just sounded so Constantine, as though he's using magic as an excuse to be a bit cheeky! As said below, I think I will continue this fic, and if I do, it's all down to you, because I wasn't even considering continuing it until you mentioned it! Thank you so much for reviewing and generally being wonderful (hugs)

LadyHawke – Yay! Computers are evil in general, and I'm glad you got yours fixed. I was worried that never saying John would be a bit obvious, like it would really be conspicuous by its absence. Thanks for reassuring me!

Silverbloodrain – Do you mean updating or reviewing? Because if it's the first, I've been waiting to read the next chapter of Truth be Told (I can't wait, you write Angela and John really well!), and if it's the second, doesn't matter. I love hearing from you, you always make me feel really good about my writing. Lots of love too!

Lovely – Sorry! But there's fluff this chapter. Lots and lots of fluff! I went a bit overboard here, but it was so much fun to write! I really like writing John, I actually had a bit of trouble at first, but then I started to get into asshole mode and he came out quite well! I'm in the top two, huh? That actually made my day. Thanks! Oh, don't worry about being demanding. It's motivating! (And yeah, do colours have wings that we can't see? Ahh, they're half-breeds! You can tell I've had too much champagne, can't you?)

Happy Christmas to all who celebrate it, and if you don't (I don't) have a good 25th and happy holidays anyway! This update is just my first present to all of you – there's more! Read on...

The chapter title comes from the Incubus song 'The Warmth', which is amazing anyway, but also sums up the feel of this chapter. The thing about the sound of breathing comes from the Yellowcard song 'Breathing', which was kind of my inspiration for that section. Go look up the lyrics of both, as I think they're both Constantine-y songs. I was also listening to Someday by Nickelback…but I'm not sure how Constantine that is. Still a great song though.

Okay, I'm taking opportunity to plug King Kong. Seriously, how amazing is that film? Visually, it's stunning, and the acting is incredible. Adrian Brody rocks my socks, and I thought Naomi Watts was really good. I've written the first chapter for a fic called Beauty, and I'll be posting it within the next week, so I'd love it if some of you would give me some feedback. Thanks.

Here's your second present, which you can thank fanficgeek for. Okay, you win. I think I'm going to extend this beyond six chapters. I have an idea for where this can go, but I need to do a little research before that, so next chapter I'll confirm whether I'm doing it or not. Is that good news?

This was a very long author's note, I've had a lot of champagne and have spent about nine hours today writing. I think there's really nothing more to say except enjoy! Sweet fluff!

Chapter V: Warmth

Angela stepped into the apartment, feeling out of place. She wished John hadn't said that; it reminded her of the first time she was here. When she was grieving over Isabel, and yet denying her suicide with a passion. The denial gave her the strength to wake up each morning.

John stood by the window, watching her openly, as though he was waiting for her to explain why she was here. She had no idea though. Desperation? The fact that he was the only person in the whole world, or so it felt, that understood her right now? The practicality of the situation; he needed to know what had happened to her, as he was the only person who might be able to explain it? Whatever it was, she just had the inexplicable feeling that this was where she was meant to be.

Her legs felt strained, as though someone had put her muscles in a blender. It wasn't too bizarre; after all, she'd been running for a long time. But at that moment, she felt like her legs were going to give way, and she wasn't completely sure that it was solely because she was tired.

She slid into a seat at the battered wooden table, and Constantine did the same. It was obviously old; there were deep stains ingrained into the wood, and there was something down the middle that looked like an axe had been hurled into the wood.

"Possessed victim" she heard John say, making her jump. She hadn't realised her was watching her, following her gaze. "Came after me with a fire axe. Surprised he didn't completely fuck up the table"

Angela managed a smile. He followed her lead and sat down at the table, directly opposite her. Though he wanted to ask her what was wrong, and it was in his nature to do so, he knew from experience that silence made people talk.

"There was a half-breed" Angela finally recounted to him. "I thought he was just a mugger, as he was just after my purse at first. Then he got a little nasty when he realised it was pretty much empty, and so I just kicked him and ran off"

"He must have thought you had something"

"Yeah…um, I realised afterwards that I'd used that purse to carry the Spear" she admitted, their eyes meeting.

"Is the Spear safe?" John asked.

She nodded vehemently. "Only Isabel and I know about the place it's hidden in" She fell silent briefly, thinking about the place. It held a lot of memories for both her and her twin. It was their secret, their refuge from the rest of the world. Not even their parents knew about it. It belonged to them and them alone. When Angela went to visit her sister in Ravenscar or whatever hospital she was in, they'd often talk about it, since it was never safe to discuss anything but the past with Isabel.

Bringing herself back to the present, Angela shook off her memories and made herself focus. "So why could the half-breed sense the Spear? It was over a month ago"

"Stuff like that leaves a sort of trace" he informed her. "Psychometry"

"What?"

"The art of discovering details about a place or person by touching something that belonged to them" he recited. In his line of business, it paid to know stuff like that.

"So the demon could know stuff about me, just by touching my bag?" Angela asked, her voice and demeanour calm though inwardly she was alarmed.

"Depends. What did you do with the bag?"

"I had to leave it" she explained, suddenly feeling a little guilty for not having fought harder to get it back. "The half-breed was more interested in it than me, so I escaped while I could"

John didn't say anything, not at first, but poured himself another shot of whiskey, and a second one for Angela. She accepted it without argument, as despite the fact she wasn't really a drinker at all, she needed something to balance the surreal happenings of this night.

"So…what?" she asked. "What does it all mean?" She was too tired to be elegant, and probably about to lose her focus, so all she could hope was that he'd be able to fill in a few gaps for her.

He took another swig of his glass before answering. "If he was looking for you, he might be looking for the Spear. If he's looking for the Spear, he sure as hell isn't doing it under his own steam"

"You mean–"

"The Devil might be after it" John said deadpan. "But he might have just sent the demon after you, and it got sidetracked by the scent of the Spear"

"I hope so" Angela said, half to herself. She felt the urge to hug her knees to her chest as she'd done when she was a kid, and scared. When she and Isabel were kids, and she'd lost the ability to See, she'd spent a lot of nights curled up in her room, sitting bold upright, unable to sleep and wishing that she could, because she could hear the sound of people on the floor below and often it was accompanied by her sister's screaming. Sometimes it was her church's exorcist, other times doctors from psychiatric hospitals, and occasionally it was just her parents fighting over what to do with her sister. It was terrifying, and what made it worse was that Isabel didn't seem to notice. If she wasn't present, she slept through it, or when she came up after whatever had transpired, she just went to sleep easily without saying a word to Angela. In fact, if Angela couldn't sleep because of it, she would sometimes come over to her sister and try to comfort her, swearing that she would protect her. Angela hadn't the heart to tell her sister that she didn't think she'd ever be able to protect anyway.

Yet, she'd tried to protect the whole world by taking her own life, even though it meant going to Hell.

John got up suddenly, knocking Angela out of her reverie, going to small box on a random surface. Taking something out of it, he came back around the table and pressed something cold into Angela's hand. She glanced down, and saw that it was the trinity amulet.

"John, it's okay. I'll be fine" she stated, trying to sound more confident than she actually was.

"Please Angela" Two words. And yet it seemed as though he'd written an essay on the subject. She admitted defeat, and reached back to clip the amulet around her neck.

"Bullet-proof vest, right?" she said with a small smile, trying to fasten the delicate chain around her neck, but the amulet slipped out of her grasp and she reached up again to fiddle with the clasp.

"Here" John said, and reached around to fasten it at the nape of her neck. A tiny bolt of electricity shocked down Angela's spine.

"Thanks" she said as he moved back.

"Don't take it off if you can help it"

"Why?" she asked. "What does it do?"

"It was made and blessed by a priest for his daughter, who could See. It's about as protective as they come, without strapping a cross to every single bit of skin"

"And what, it hides me from the half-breeds?"

"Sort of. It changes their range – masks your imprint, your identity. They can find a psychic, but not you specifically. It's like using a club instead of an arrow"

"Okay" There was a second of silence between them, which Angela broke. "You know, you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself"

His eyes met hers briefly and she saw something – she didn't know what – flicker across his dark eyes. "I just don't want anything to happen to you"

It was weird, the amulet didn't warm to her skin temperature at all; it was still freezing cold against her breastbone. She shivered, and turned her gaze towards the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows. It was dark out, dark for autumn, and reflective of her mood. She realised with a jump that it was at least one in the morning, and she ached with tiredness. She'd have to be at the station for eight thirty the next morning, and the idea of trudging home now was really unappealing. Still, she had to do it. Her hands instinctively went to her bag to dig out her keys–

Oh shit.

"Uh…is there any chance I can stay here tonight?" she asked. "I left everything in my purse with the half-breed, and I don't have keys for my place or anything"

"I think I remember being taught to always keep your keys in your pocket in case you got mugged" he said with sarcasm.

Angela's clear eyes were innocent-looking as she replied. "And who taught you that?"

"A cop I used to know"

"They must have been smarter than me" There was something self-deprecatory in her tone, and it crippled the ironic twist in her words. "So?"

John looked up at her. He wouldn't have refused her. He couldn't. "Yeah. Course"

"Thank you"

There was a sincerity in her voice and her gaze that he found almost unnerving. He had to look away.

Later, after she was feeling a tiny bit more uninhibited by the alcohol, she told herself firmly to go to sleep before she did anything stupid. And so, she was here, lying on one side of the wide double bed, contained within a steel cage – to keep things out, she supposed. Her mind reeled in a number of directions when she first saw it, but she was more used to it now.

Angela shivered, her bare arms being skimmed by cold air. A part of her itched to get under the covers, but that gesture seemed kind of pushy, as though she wanted something more. But she didn't. Did she? There was definitely something strange between them, but she couldn't figure out what it was. It seemed like nothing connected with John Constantine was simple.

She felt him lie out on the other side of the bed, on top of the covers like she was. They were so close that she could feel the tiny vibrations that came with each breath. It was such a small sound, but it was going to keep her awake, she knew it. Her heart was going so fast, she was sure he could hear it. It felt so foreign, so alien, being so close to each other, but at the same time, she felt safe in a way that she hadn't ever since she'd rediscovered her ability to See.

"Are you cold?" Constantine asked from the other side of the bed, startling her. They weren't even facing each other, at least, she wasn't, and she wouldn't have thought he would be.

"A little" she admitted, keeping her hands on her bare upper arms.

She didn't quite know how it happened, but soon, she felt warmth of contact spreading through her body. A hand wrapped over her midriff, drawing her in slightly, and she could feel slight breaths on her neck. The thing was, the sound didn't seem so loud anymore.

It was comforting, and a part of her just wanted to stay like that, knowing she'd sleep well, but she forced herself to flip over, onto her left side, so that she could see his face.

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say that you were being protective"

"Good thing you know better then" he said in his usual deadpan way.

She had to smile. "Goodnight" Angela almost felt like she had to thank him in some way, for everything he'd done, but how do you express something like that?

A strange idea struck her, and she was just drunk enough to consider it. Very softly, she moved in slightly, suddenly noticed all the places their bodies were touching. She gently pressed her lips against his, a brief, warm kiss that sent a sudden rush of heat down her spine, ironically making her shiver.

"What was that for?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"Just a thank you" she replied in a lighter tone than she actually felt.

"I think I'll be more generous to you in future"

Angela smiled. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" The words hung in the air between them, the silence eerie and yet comfortable. They both lay frozen in their positions, the dim light shielding them from everything else, hiding them, at least for a little while.

Now that kiss was the third present…that was the best thing ever to write. Until I write the next one, of course…oh, I'm evil, aren't I?

Next update will probably be New Year's Day, but it all depends on how drunk I am…joke!

What did you think? Please review!