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040. Sight

Aziraphale looked at the painting he had just received. The artist had talent, he had to admit that. Not as much talent as Uriel, of course, but he doubted anybody else was as gifted – or had had as much practice – in painting as the archangel. For a human, the work was spectacular, just like he had expected it to be.

A portrait of the four archangels, each with their familiar symbols. It was a perfect subject for an artist, and one that once again had been skilfully done for others' enjoyment. It was too bad, really, that he would soon take it to Heaven, away from any human eyes.

It was… different from the truth, at least. The four archangels were pictured in a lush green garden, each in richly decorated clothes, with multi-coloured wings. Michael was close enough to reality, tall and blond and a sword at ready. However, Aziraphale very much doubted this Michael would have ever let any of his generals call him by his first name. Sure, the Michael he knew was firm when he needed to be, but he'd never had the almost ice-like strictness that radiated from the painted figure's face.

Raphael, too, was different. With brown hair and grey eyes, he looked nothing like his true self. Something in the way he stood there, holding a staff, was so distant that Aziraphale had a hard time trying to associate this emotionless being with the smiling healer he knew.

Uriel was the most like his true self, he decided. Standing off to the side, he was pictured concentrated on a book, not paying any attention to the others. There was a look of absolute peace on his face that far too seldom could be seen on the original's features, though.

Then there was Gabriel. Gabriel, the very reason why he had wanted this painting. His firm, proper, ever flawless brother – although that the artist obviously had not known. Situated between to Raphael and Michael, Uriel being on the other side of Raphael, Gabriel had raised his hand in blessing. Or, rather, her hand – as humans sometimes did, Gabriel had been portrayed as female. This was, in Aziraphale's opinion, more than enough of a reason to give this gift to his brother just to see his reaction.

Aziraphale thought of the real Gabriel as female, and couldn't help but giggle. Gabriel would sooner die than let himself be caught in female form – not because he didn't value women as high as men, no, but because he all too often had to point out that his basic gender identity was that of a male. Some of the older angels were of the opinion that it would be more natural for the Angel of Mercy to be female, while others simply remembered his former, gentler appearance that had indeed been slightly reminiscent of a woman. Whatever was their reason, however, Gabriel didn't like it. A proof that humans had the same misconceptions about him should prove to cause interesting reactions.

Of course, this wasn't necessarily a nice thing to do. However, Aziraphale thought that sometimes little brothers just had to be annoying. Otherwise their older siblings' existences would have been too easy.

With another very non-angelic giggle, Aziraphale took the painting and started to make his way up to Heaven.

"You, Aziraphale, are an insufferable brat."

"Why, thank you," Aziraphale said, grinning at the Warrior who had just appeared on the door of his room. "Is that the proper way for an angel to greet another?"

"Don't give me that," Michael said, chuckling. "I already saw that painting. Gabriel didn't seem too happy with humans at the moment, really. I foresee an extremely pissed-off archangel lashing out at anybody who even looks like they are thinking of him as non-male."

The younger angel's grin got even wider. "My mission is a success, then," he said happily. "He needs to get knocked down a peg or two every now and then – not that I expect him to go for Pride, of course. I'm just performing my brotherly duties to the best of my abilities to make sure he stays humble and proper as is appropriate for an angel."

"That must be the most elaborate reasoning I have ever heard for being a brat," Uriel said dryly, appearing in the doorway behind his lover. "I must say, however, that it is quite amusing. Too bad Gabriel doesn't see it as such."

"I didn't really expect him to," Aziraphale admitted. "Gabriel can be awfully non-amused when it comes to other people making mistaken assumptions about his gender. You'd almost think he isn't secure with his male identity."

"Well, it is rather improbable that all four archangels are male," Michael said with a smirk. "That, or we should perhaps listen to those female angels complaining that all the top positions have been reserved for men on purpose."

"That is ridiculous," Uriel huffed. "We were placed as archangels far before there was such a thing as genders. That we all would assume primarily male identity is just a coincidence. I would prove this by being female for a while if that wasn't very probable to make Gabriel even more annoyed."

"Well, male or female, you'd still be perfect," Michael commented. "This whole fuss about us not being equal is indeed ridiculous, though. If there is a woman who would like to challenge me, go ahead. If they win me I'll gladly give my position to them. It's just that to this date I have not met a woman who would be willing to challenge me."

"It's probably the lack of testosterone," Aziraphale mused. "Women do not feel the urge to rush into impossible battles with opponents they know they cannot win. That is a major failing in most warriors, you know. Most of your warriors are male because of the physical advantage, but they are more excitable in battle."

"If they are good enough, they don't get too excited," the Warrior pointed out. "And if you're a young, aggressive angel, it doesn't mean anything whether you're male or female. And don't look at me like that," he then continued. "You were never aggressive. Even when you were young, you were too skilled to get overly excited."

"Thank you," Aziraphale said. Then, he grinned. "Equality or not, though, I don't think anybody has ever thought of you as female."

"That's too right," Michael said, grinning. "Find one artist who'd paint a picture of me as a woman without being told to do so and I will be a woman for a month." After a second's pause, he said, "No, Uriel doesn't count."

"What a pity." The one who said this, with a mild grin, was Uriel instead of Aziraphale.

Next Prompt: Shapes