HAPPY NEW YEAR! HAPPY HANUKKAH! HAPPY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY KWANZA!

I was going to write out a version of Tall Tales but I'm making this whole story AU, so if you suckers have no idea to why Gabriel is "here" in the first place, I suggest you get "with it" and watch some supernatural. Sorry if I'm sounding mean but I have serious writer's block on everything (including my school work -_-) aaaaand the internet is currently have a battle of wits against me and I'm ashamed to say it but the little bugger is beating me -_- I realised in the other chapter I said willies instead of wellies, thank you. I might change it but I really cannot be bother with the entire internet going woop! So if you can find it, good for you! Oh and just to clarify, Ezri is 3613 years old (You can tell I was up at the crack of dawn writing down that) Sorry for taking aaaaaages to update but I'm just like that! I hope the story hasn't lost its fire :D Review to let me know you guys are still interested in this :D

I felt hazy as I found myself floating on a ball of fuzzy cotton. The texture surrounding me was silky smooth and to put it to a better point illustrious. It was only when my muffled hearing returned to me did I begin to engage in a logical sense of how to interpret what had just happened. It was only then did I hear the lyrics of the infamous song "Why don't we get drunk and screw" playing softly in the background. I groaned, as much as a hated Jimmy Buffet, I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that his songs perfectly reflect this man, The Trickster as he calls himself, personality. Squirming and slipping on the silky fabric, I manoeuvred myself into a comfy positions on what I know considered to be the biggest bed I had ever seen in my life. Turning to my side, I rested my head on my left elbow, only to feel the draught of breath on my face. Peeking one eye open I looked towards the source, the light stinging me a little bit, lying next to me also on his side, his cheek resting on his hand and that now rather annoying boyish grin still plastered on his stupid mug. However this time I got a closer look at his hazel eyes, they were deep, mature and yet carefree and the same time, he was staring intently at me and I just couldn't help but feel somewhat exposed. Breaking the silence a mumbled out some words…

"Where the hell am I?" I murmured dispassionately.

'The Trickster' chuckled and rose up from the bed, my eyes followed him as he did some sort of pirouette, his arms wide. It was only then did I really notice my surroundings.

"Welcome to my humble abode" he sang, he cheesy grin wide.

I did a pan on the room, or should I say suite – it was a posh suite suited for a president or some other rich arse that had more money than sense, the room was modest, decorated with homey pictures. To my left, there were draws and wardrobes, behind that a backdrop from the wall adorned with a sliding door to a balcony – in the distance I could see mountains, dark and damp, soft waves of mist floating calmly between the rocks. To the left of the sliding door was a kitchen complete with its own breakfast bar, in front of that was a sweet wooden table decked with wooden chairs. Then the nest thing that could my eye was the giant 40 inch screen with a remote that millions of buttons. To the right was the door to what I could assume was the bathroom, a coat rack, a living room area matched with a coffee table and then behind that was the front door – the exit.

"Homey isn't it?"

I turned face to him, leaning on my hands which uncomfortably rested on the silk sheets – I had to stop myself from slipping.

"If you live here" I replied, slowly forcing myself up, noticing the slight buzz in my head "but I think I must be going".

Just as my feet touched the ground, The Trickster manoeuvred himself in front me – his arms ridiculously waving around as he pouted his lips – giving that strange look that would be humorous under different circumstances.

"Awww, you not leaving Ezri, you just got here!" he whined.

"Don't call me that!" I snapped back, but he just ignored me.

"Besides this is your home!" he said as I got up from the bed.

"No! I'm not living here with you, I want to go home!"

If could believe it was possible, The Trickster increased his pouting to a whole new level – this "guy" was a grown man for G-d's sake.

"Ezri…"

"And my name is Megan, you stupid ego-centric Trickster!"

I sat down in frustration – it was like dealing with my stupid cousin, who wanted to call me freaking Bella Swan – apparently I look like her? I felt the bed dip beside me, as I shoved my hands into to my cold hands. An arm wrapped around me, across my back and I felt the warmth of The Trickster's breath through my hands, making them fuzzy. Suddenly my frustration had turned me into an emotional wreck and I could feel my eyes stinging from the tears.

"I'm sorry Ez.. Meggy" I heard softly.

Turning at the sound of my new nickname (Well at least it's better than that name) I saw pure worry in the Trickster's eyes, the soft smooth ripples of green in his irises' blending subtly the chocolate masks of his eyes. Before I could even contemplate what was happening, The Trickster had placed his hand on my cheek and wiped away a stray tear that had fallen from my brown eyes. For some reason, that I can explain – I smiled, at him and as if he noticed this sign of affection, he quickly moved his hand and his arm from me and signed – It was strange, I felt a bolt of sadness, I felt cold as if his touch was the safest thing in the world to me. I needed to make more friends.

"Meggy" he bagan "I'm sorry – I don't want to make you sad, I'm trying to make the best out of the situation".

His words struck a chord within me and I look straight into him.

"What do you mean situation?"

He stood up sighing, as if his usual boyish electricity had run out, and he was run down and tired.

"There are some evil things after you Meggy, I don't want them to touch you"

I was confused, confuzzled, dumbstruck – I had rarely anything unusual in my lives, I know resurrecting from the dead and living again was pretty freaky but there was no indication that G-d or anything else for that matter troubled me or knew I existed, I just thought I was an anomaly. I mean when you've lived and died as long as I have you begin to see things that people don't. People, who aren't people – their faced either hideously warped and disgusting in the street, in the crowd. Once or twice I've sworn I've seen angels – normal looking people, a beacon of light in their chest – wings that no one can see, you get this strange motion of Euphoria in your heart, like faith – a hunch – G-d? I've seen death – as in men in suits pulling people into nothingness, I swore a lot of that in the 1930s and 40s. But that never touched me. I just awoke a screaming ball of a baby – lived and then died. That was it.

"What evil things?" I cried back "Who are you? What are you? How the hell do you know my first name?"

The questions came flooding out, pent up on confusion – tiredness and frustration, soon the tears came running down my face and I stood up, standing defensively – my sweating shaking fists curled up in balls, my heart pounding in my head and all the while the stupid Trickster just smirked half-heartedly and said:

"I am the Arch-Angel Gabriel and you are a daughter of the Sons of G-d"

My mouth fell open.

"WHAT?"