Title: Tongues of Men and Angels
Rating: TA for implied?romance.
Summary: In the desert, she find him broken. Through the grace of God…all things are made new. A series of drabbles. Gabriel/OC.
Disclaimer: *obligatory insert*
Chapter I: Miracle
Chapter II: Speaking in Tongues
If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
1 Corinthians 13: 1-3
"Michael," the angel spat. "I dreamed of killing—"
His last word was one she couldn't understand, something both guttural and sweet, a dialect that seemed ancient and strangely familiar. He was delirious, she realized abruptly, those burning eyes seeing into her and through her, as though she weren't there at all.
"Who are you?" she asked softly.
His gaze focused on her and she blinked back tears, one bloody palm coming up to calm her roiling belly. She didn't think she had ever been so full of fear—and beauty.
"Cain," he growled, and she shuddered, breaking out in gooseflesh.
"That is not your name," she whispered without thinking, and she knew in her bones that her words were true. She hesitated. "Who did you dream of killing?" she asked, and her tone was hushed and frightened.
"Everyone," he said, his eyes glazing over, then clearing again. "You," he snarled.
Her stomach, already sick with terror, suddenly plummeted. She reached forward with one shaking, wounded palm and laid it gently against his cheek. "Okay," she said again as his blazing eyes fluttered closed. "Okay."
Word Count: 185
Completed: April 8, 2011