From his position on the polite edge of the crowd, Mike could make out Emily's position. She sat lightly on one of the school's many plastic chairs, calmly regarding the events around her. Mike smiled; he'd carefully kept on an eye on her all evening. She managed to hold his entire attention. It was so funny: she'd occasionally glide off to distribute order to the party goers, all ways with that same, determined expression. Whenever she passed one of the Battlefront members, she hunched her shoulders, and stalked past with a grimace (in what he supposed was her "scary demon" form). Thankfully, his friends usually gave her too wide a berth to notice the quality of her acting.
Additionally, she followed his order not to stray by the position x with extreme dedication. She kept tremendous distance from it, sometimes looping in massive, grandiose circles just to get back to her chair.
Just what kind of angel is she, he wondered, not for the first time. She doesn't seem particularly church-like to me. But, there is something unusual about her. Otherwise, why would I feel different whenever I'm a round her?
He huffed a breath, and shoved his shaking hands in his pockets. Right. He could do this. He felt awkward, and he felt painfully shy. But he was going to try.
She looked up as Mike approached, and her eyes widened. "Mr. Carter? Is it not dangerous for you to approach me so blatantly?"
Mike only smiled. Extending an arm, he lifted Emily out of her chair with one easy movement. "Miss Robinson, may I have a dance?"
Though she kept glancing at him in confusion, Emily walked with him to the floor. She glanced around them nervously. "But Mr. Carter, wouldn't this level of proximity raise suspicion?"
He shook his head. "Don't worry. I've been ordered by Fred to try and maneuver you to position. That's my reason."
A new song began. They moved into position. "I believe I understand," Emily replied. "You are performing a 'bluff', you were not actually ordered. But what if Mrs. Washington were to notice?" she frowned, confused. "And, what is the purpose of this dance?"
"I saw Winnie go into the bathroom. We've got time." He didn't reply to her second question. Because I love being close to you, he answered in his head. His feet began to tap, the beat was infectious. "Come on!" Mike urged. "This is a fast song! Let's get going!"
Step-step-spin-spin-left-right-step-twirl! Mike witnessed Angel's subdued expression wake up as he led her, flying, through the dance. Step-step-back-up, Emily bit her lips as she tried to mimic Mike's motions. It was all Mike could do to keep from laughing with joy; they were both hopelessly clumsily dancers, stumbling into each other every other step, but neither seemed to mind.
When the track ended, Emily was gasping, cheeks tinged with red. She briefly let go of Mike's hand to smooth her dress.
"Us and them… And after all, we're only ordinary men," Pink Floyd spun from the speakers, thumping with a waltz's pace. Their steps slowed, grateful for the break.
"Mr. Carter, might I ask you something?" Emily said after a moment.
And now she's asking me questions, Mike wondered. His awe of the situation was started to leave him blinking. "Uh, of-course! I mean, I'll try my best to answer."
She nodded solemnly. "Thank you. My question is: Am I a bad person?"
Mike skipped a beat, and stumbled to keep from coming to a standstill. "What… What are you talking about? Emily, how in the world would you get that idea?" Where had that come from? Jumping hot cakes, he was confused.
They continued to move, waltzing in a simple circle. "Everyone else hates me," Angel argued. "They're afraid of me."
"I just wanted to help people, that was my reason for striving for the post of Student Body President. I thought I could be used to help people. But now, I believe I have found the reason I was unsuccessful. My innate nature must be to cause pain."
Angel took a breath. "Michael, the demons you refer to as the Fallen, they did not form from nothing. They came from myself, every one of them. They are part of me.
Mike felt Emily's hand stiffen in his, for a moment his friend looked physically sick. "Though I intended to use one to do good, I lost control of them. They harmed people, and, and I am sure I would not have triumphed over them without the aid of-"
"Hey, come on now, enough of that!" Mike growled. "You know those Monsters weren't your fault. If you're a bad person, then I'm a bullfrog."
"But I am unsuccessful-"Emily tried to protest, but Michael wasn't finished.
"No. Emily, it's okay." He gazed at her sternly. "Honestly, it's okay. You're always talking about your debt, how you're obligated to do all these things. Well, I say balderdash. You can do what you want, all right?
"Emily, you're amazing. You do so much. Everyone else hasn't had a chance to see it yet. Emily, you, I mean, you're so, and…"
Mike's tongue stumbled against his lips. Frustration burned through him. Words were failing him; he wanted so much to show the person before him just what he could see, but he couldn't explain it.
Emily gazed up at him. More than ever before, he could discover the emotions fighting across her face: her ragged determination, her worried confusion. Mike swallowed.
Reaching out, he pulled her in closer to him, and they spun.
"If you disagree so strongly," Emily said after a few moments, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "then I can't be sure. After all… I have been wrong before."
He chuckled. "Thanks, Emily. Hey, you know something? You're better at talking to people now. I mean, when we first met, you sounded almost like a recording. Now… I can tell what you're feeling from what you say. Now, when you talk to us… you sound like a human."
Emily danced a few more steps. "Mr. Carter… you say the strangest things."
From the shadows of the hallway, Fred observed the dancers. Sparks flashed at her side as she drew her stone across her knife's edge. Her gaze bore to the gym beyond, as she sharpened, with a shwick, and a shlick.
She didn't flinch when Emily and Mike drew close. It is a tender, emotional portion of the song, she reasoned. Shlick, shlick. How thoughtful of Mike, to include the President in the festivities. We wouldn't want her to feel excluded.
Fred watched Emily's expression with a hunter's intent. Fascinating. It appeared the creature could actually experience emotion. How delightful. If it could feel joy, then it could also feel despair.
Abruptly, Fred flung her weapon into the air. It flashed as the strobe lights hit it, and plummeted back down. She caught it with a satisfying thud. The weight feels just about right, Fred thought, as she turned to retreat back into the hallway. She passed through a set of thick double doors, and so did not hear the commotion that quickly caught fire in the room behind her.
She strode down the dark hall, combat boots thudding against the floor. Well, it appeared that the current operation would not be successful. But she was used to unexpected failures; she would endure this one like all the rest. She could-
Fred stopped. She could make out a shape resting against the door to the girls' restroom, the location she'd held off on visiting for one last look at the dance. Crouching, she retrieved the object, and took it with her into the harsh fluorescence of the girl's rest room.
The bathroom was empty-most of the girls would have preferred the larger on the gym's opposite side. Fred gingerly placed the object on the counter.
Her discovery was undoubtedly weird. At first glance, it looked like a vacuum. At second, an octopus, at third, a cannon. The instrument possessed a green-metal abdomen, from which a number of appendages sprung: metal tentacles ending in black spheres.
At the end of the abdomen, lurked a steel nozzle. The unmistakable shape of a gun's barrel.
Frowning, Fred retrieved the greasy note taped to the abdomen. She flicked it open.
Fred. Its taken months, but we've finally succeeded. Everyone at the Guild has put everything into this baby, every ounce of our expertise. It's done. We have created for the Battlefront the final weapon. This beast, the "Tormenter," can be used to defeat Angel, once and for all. The instructions are below. We know you will bring our victory.
Details Below.
–Asher.
Fred continued reading the note, her face flushed. As she went, her eyes widened. Her shoulder's tightened. She might just enjoy this Prom after all.