A/N: Sorry it took so long for this update. I'm packing my house up 'cos I'm moving in with a friend in the middle of next month because I'm selling my house and the sememster doesn't end until June. In June, I'm moving from Florida to Baltimore, so things are a little hectic. T_T
Dark Angel's Blue Fire: Here's some more for you!!!
raven2547: That's one of my favorite parts. And something VERY, VERY CLOSE to an exhange between myself an my (now ex) boyfriend.
chequeredsweetheart: Thank you for all your praise! And I agree that there are simply not enough ReidXTyler stories to go around.
forgetMEalways: I'm glad you liked the chapter. And slash is nothing without a little smut. ;)
"You don't give them enough credit."
"You give them too much credit."
"You're wrong."
There was a rustling of wings and a few softly murmured comments. A guardian angel was not meant to argue with an archangel.
"Your attachment to them and your sentiments are what keep you from seeing the truth as I do."
"And your arrogance keeps you from seeing the truth like I do."
There was a moment of silence from the insulted archangel.
"I have a proposition for you..." Michael said slowly.
"What is it?"
"You'll be stripped of your wings and sent to a city, one with crime and evil. If you can prove to me that there is still good in the world, you will be immediately returned to heaven and your position will be returned to you."
"And if I don't prove it to you?"
"Then you will live a human life, die a human death, and when you return to heaven, you will have to begin your ranking from the beginning."
"Fine."
---
"Well, well, well. What's pretty, pale and all alone?"
Rough hands, dark thoughts, bricks roughing my shirt...
A yell, abscence of evil, sinking to the ground, footsteps, concern...
"Are you okay?"
Eyes the shade of blue that angels spend eternities trying to perfect for their ceremonial robes.
"I'm fine."
"Do you live far from here?"
Concern, worry, nervousness, shyness returning.
"You could say that." It's not a lie. I slept in this alley last night.
"You don't have a home."
Realization, more concern, determination.
"Not in the traditional sense." I shrug it away, wait for his reaction.
"You're coming with me."
He holds out his hand. I take it. He leads me through a labyrinth of streets and to his apartment. It's moderately sized, nicely furnished, painted in calming colors.
"Why don't you take a shower. These clothes should fit you."
More shyness, nervousness.
"Thank you."
The water is warm, the clothes, a pair of jeans and a shirt with faint traces of his scent clinging to them. He's making something in the kitchen. Garlic, tomato, basil.
"I figured you might want something to eat." He blushes. Shyness rolling off of him.
"Thank you."
"You don't really talk much, do you?" Nervousness beginning to outweigh the shyness.
"I'm not sure how to thank you for all of this." An honest answer for the man who saved me.
"I'm a fan of helping people. My name's Tyler, by the way." His smile is one that would melt the heart of even Archangel Michael.
"I'm Reid."
"How long have you been on the streets?"
"A few days now. I was kicked out of my previous home." Carefully chosen words, words that were not a lie.
Dinner conversation was one-sided, Tyler doing most of the talking. I answered his questions carefully and thanked him honestly when he left me with spare blankets and the pulled out couch.
The sunrise brought my wake-up call. Peace, soft breathing, shifting. Tyler was still asleep. I moved through the kitchen as silently as only a guardian angel can, one used to making things better without being noticed, and started breakfast. Eggs, milk, onions, cheese, ham. Bacon. Biscuits. Sausage. Strong black coffee.
"You're making breakfast." Surprise, disbelief... Giddiness? Did he expect me to rob the house and slip out in the cover of darkness?
"In appreciation." I shrugged his emotions off. My wings were gone, but my divine empathy was still there.
Two weeks pass. Tyler's unmasked emotions have grown familiar to me. His work at the animal shelter amazes me. His volunteer hours feeding a congregation of the homeless under a bridge astound me. His smile paralyzes me.
Another week passes. Michael knocks politely on the door while Tyler is working with the Humane Society. Abashedness, regret, injured pride.
"You've somehow managed to find the most caring and giving human on this planet." Michael admits with slightly slouched shoulders and drooping wings.
"I don't care."
Surprise, shock, worry.
"You don't care?"
"You could give me my wings back, make me a Saint and an Archangel and I would trade all of it for a few more hours with him."
Michael remains silent.
"You would trade your wings and your position for a human?" Understanding, acceptance.
"For this human."
"So be it. Your wings are returned to you for use at your desgression, providing you don't compromise your already precarious situation. Upon the ending of your human life, you shall be returned to your position as guardian angel. Your selected mortal mate shall be granted an angelic position upon his death and neither of you shall have to spend eternity alone." Finality, authority, promise, hope, pride.
That night, I told Tyler the truth. Suspicion, worry, disbelief. Those feelings didn't dissipate until I took off my shirt and unfolded my wings. He nearly cried. I told him that I nearly forefited my divinity for him and he did cry.
Tyler's human life passed more slowly than mine. I was waiting by the gates for him when he arrived. I cried when Michael granted Tyler his wings, his shining eyes matching the ceremonial robes I labored over for three years to make the same shade as his eyes.