Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gabriel first got the clue that something was quite wrong when the sharp-voiced angel deemed it necessary to run her mouth, again.

Gabriel was not one to take notice of his - or, rather, His - employees. There were too many of them, and, quite frankly, he couldn't be bothered to. Sure, he was omnipotent and all, but knowing everything tended to get you the same result as knowing nothing - which was to say, ignorance. 

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure of this one’s name. Something starting with a μ. No, wait, wrong area… an M, then. He really didn’t understand why the humans couldn't have all stayed in the same place. What was so wrong with mortals reaching the heavens? Really, that tower had been rather ingenious. And besides, they could have made money on the tourism.

Anyway, Gabriel had definitely seen this particular angel before. In fact, the sight of her dark hair and harsh expression brought up decidedly unpleasant feelings. To be fair, many things had that effect on him. 

Not everything, of course. Some things gave Gabriel a feeling akin to the mortal emotion of happiness. Raphael, for example. And that wonderful Italian invention, the one with the flat bread and vegetable sauce and aged milk. That was rather good. Perhaps that was one good thing to come of the Babel incident.

Raphael pursed his lips and sighed. “Mayra Kaleka, I must say, you are not doing your ledger any favors with this behavior. It says here that since we last saw you, you have-” he glanced at the scroll which had materialized from thin air- “manipulated, lied, and-” here he made a face of disgust- “fraternized. These behaviors are most distasteful, especially from one of your position.”

The angel - Mayra, he had known her name started with an M - scowled and opened her mouth. Gabriel may not have remembered her name on his own, but he was quite sure that every time she had opened her mouth in his presence, it had been decidedly negative.

“Who says those things are always bad? I was only trying to help Fox. I am his guardian angel, you know.”

Raphael groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes. We know. Knowing is sort of our thing.”

“Right. So then, you know that I was simply fulfilling the terms of my contract. And you also know,” she said, cocking an eyebrow and craning around the scroll to read the writing, even as Raphael shifted to try and hide it from her view, “that you took off too many points. Manipulation is 5, lying is 3, and fraternization is 10. You took off 20, not 18.” She smirked in triumph.

“Do you want to punch her? I’m quite sure that I want to punch her,” said Gabriel.

“Yes, I rather think that I do,” rumbled Raphael, narrowing his eyes. Gabriel felt the usual glow of approval from his colleague’s agreement. 

“Ah ah, careful,” cautioned Mayra, smiling infuriatingly. “Premeditated physical assault. That would be 6 points.”

Gabriel sighed wearily, any satisfaction he had felt at approval from his partner pushed aside by his frustration at the angel before him. “Mayra Kaleka, I will give it to you. You are shrewd, and cunning, and rather brilliant; poised, and ruthless with regard to your competition. Admirable qualities in a mortal.” He paused dramatically. (Hey, he was an eternal, all-knowing being. He deserved some theatrics now and then.) “However, they are not so desirable in an angel.”

Mayra stared, unimpressed. “Why thank you, Your Dullness. I believe that’s the closest you’ve come to giving me a compliment” Gabriel frowned. He was fairly sure that he hadn’t meant to give her a compliment. “However, you can both go kindly fuck yourselves,” she continued casually, without a stutter. The angels pulled back in shock. Raphael whipped his head around to stare at his partner. Did she just-? his eyes said. Gabriel silently responded with something just as bewildered and incomprehensible.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that unsatisfactory? Well then, you can certainly fuck each other, if that’s what you want. Who am I to judge? What with all my fraternizing,” Mayra sneered, seeing their indignation.

If Gabriel had required breath, he was sure he would have choked. As it was, he spluttered wordlessly, Raphael doing the same. 

“You- how dare- this is-” managed Raphael, mouth open indignantly. Mayra smiled in triumph, watching the reaction she had caused with glee. “You know we would never- that sort of relationship would be- well, it is simply not allowed! Not to mention, neither of us would ever desire such a thing-” 

And it was then that Gabriel became quite sure that something was wrong. As his partner continued to babble, he froze, and felt an odd sensation in his chest, as if he were sinking. As if a heavy cloak were settling over his insides, or a hole had been punched in his flesh covering, deflating him. “…neither of us would ever desire such a thing…” That line kept replaying in his mind, a broken record.

As he tried to puzzle out the cause of this strange and rather unpleasant feeling, he glanced up at Mayra, who caught his eye. He shuddered as he met her piercing gaze. When a human came into God’s - or Lucifer’s - employ, they essentially ceased being mortal; however, one still retained that disconcerting perception unique to earthly beings.

Mortals. They could see so little in the grand scheme of things, and it made them entirely too observant.

The angel’s eyes narrowed in confusion, searching him, before widening in what looked like recognition. She fought a gleeful smile, turning back to Raphael and nodding as he finished his rant. With a stab of apprehension, Gabriel decided that he disliked that smile. Well, he disliked it even more than all her other smiles.

“Right, right. Yes. So sorry. Won’t do it again. See you!” she babbled, when Raphael had stopped angrily spluttering, smothering another grin as she disappeared. Raphael turned to Gabriel in confusion, brow creasing. Gabriel had the strangest urge to smooth it out with his thumb. What in the worlds was happening to him?

“What the he- ahem. What was that about, do you think?” Raphael wondered.

Gabriel, still dazed, gazed at the clouds beneath his feet, rubbing his chest to try and dissipate the strange feeling, and shrugged. “Perhaps she saw the error of her ways?”

His partner raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, probably not,” conceded Gabriel. “Maybe she’s up to something.” He looked up casually. “We should probably stop her.”

The two beings glanced at one another.

Raphael smiled, a rare, soft smile, and turned away, beginning to walk down the cloudy path. “Movie?”

Gabriel nodded. Then, realizing Raphael couldn't see him, “Yes, please.”

“My place or yours?”

Gabriel swallowed. He watched the back of the other’s head as he walked towards the pearly gates. While Gabriel usually opted for neat blonde hair, a clean shaven face, and an average build for his corporeal form - it was easier to maintain, and he hadn't really put much thought into it - Raphael had chosen a mop of black hair and a more muscular build. 

Gabriel had been almost constantly around his partner for millenia. So why was he just now noticing the small mole at the dip of his shoulder? Had Raphael chosen it, he found himself wondering? Surely, he wouldn’t purposefully give himself such an imperfection.

He realized that he didn't find it imperfect at all. 

He shook himself, feeling another strange sensation. This time, it felt as if something light and airy were pushing against where his lungs would have been, restless. At the same time, something fluttered in his stomach. What was this? Had Mayra infected him, somehow, with some sort of mortal disease? He shuddered. So much feeling. It was entirely excessive.

But his eyes didn’t move, and his mind raced, and his chest tingled and expanded.

Raphael turned back, noticing that Gabriel hadn’t moved or responded. “Gabriel? I said, ‘my place or yours?’”

Gabriel snapped back to reality, making a decision on the fly. Working here for so long, he had learned how to respond to questions as though he had been listening to whatever long, dull monologue had just been thrown at him. “Oh, um- yours would be fine.”

Raphael nodded, smiling. “Alright then. Your turn to choose the movie.”

“R-right,” Gabriel stammered, hurrying to catch up and walk by his partner’s side.

“You guys!” Mayra popped into existence directly in front of the television, prompting loud complaints from Tom, Vi, and Isis, who had been watching a soccer game.

Fox rushed in, Brandt trailing lazily behind him. Cal appeared beside Mayra, giving her one of his smiles. She adored those smiles.

“What could possibly be so important that you have to stand directly in front of Messi?” scowled Tom.

“He says-” began Cal, but Fox silenced him with a look.

“Tom,” cautioned Vi, shooting the ghost a glare before turning back to Mayra. “What is it?” 

“I think Gabriel is in love with Raphael!”

Vi promptly began to choke on whatever diabetic monstrosity of a coffee she had been drinking. Isis started bewilderedly at Mayra as she pounded the vampire’s back. 

“What?” Fox cried, as Cal’s jaw dropped. Even Brandt’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Did I just hear in love?” squealed Louisa melodically. She seemed oblivious to the fact that while she talked, everyone else in the room turned towards her, enraptured. She was staring at Mayra, mouth spread in a smile that said ‘I need to talk about someone else’s personal affairs, immediately.’ 

Lupo staggered in after her, hair disheveled, dressed in his usual style - which is to say, 'philosophy professor at an 8 AM lecture who doesn't want to be there any more than you do.’ A day’s worth of scruff shadowed his chin. He looked as if he’d spent more of the day drinking coffee than sleeping. “What are you-”

“Lupo! Mayra says someone is in love!” grinned Louisa. 

Lupo rolled his eyes, pointedly casting an eye around the room. “Right. What else is new?”

This comment elicited another round of spluttering from most of the beings present, along with harsh, loud cackling from Isis. Lupo threw up his hands.

“I’ve had enough of this. I’m leaving. I have a very busy day today, if any of you even care.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?” laughed Louisa with a shit-eating grin.

Lupo went bright red and mumbled under his breath, stalking into the kitchen.

Loud chatter, arguing, and various longing glances filled the room (none of which were unusual for the group present) until Mayra threw out her arms and wings simultaneously.

“Everyone, shut up!” cried the angel. Everyone promptly did so, although one longing look remained. Cal’s, to be precise, although it would have been more unusual if he stopped making doe eyes at her.

God, he was adorable. 

She cleared her throat and folded her arms. “Everyone done?”

Wordless nods. If there was one thing this group loved more than being generally insufferable, it was gossip.

“Right. As I said, Gabriel is in love with Raphael.”

Louisa launched into a coughing fit. Right, she hadn’t known who Mayra was talking about yet, had she? She had simply discovered someone else’s business and promptly stuck her nose in it.

Mayra rolled her eyes, albeit with a small smile. “I was summoned for a personal meeting. They were being… well, themselves, and I told them to go fuck themselves. That started this whole righteous anger thing, and it pissed me off, so I told them they could bang each other, if that’s what they wanted.” Isis snorted, Fox fighting a smile. Mayra grinned.

“Well, Raphael started blabbering about ‘we would never, neither of us even want that,’ et cetera, and then Gabriel just got this… look.”

Brandt raised an eyebrow. “You caused this much fuss over a look?” he said, unimpressed as usual. Mayra pushed past a stab of annoyance.

“Trust me. I’ve been working for him for hundreds of years. I know his looks. This- this was something new. It was this, like… want.” She giggled. “He looked so confused. Probably thought he was coming down with something, as if His Stodginess could ever get sick.”

“Makes sense,” offered Vi. “If I was around someone all day, every day, for that long, I’d probably fall in love, too.” Her face colored, pointedly not meeting Tom’s gaze.

“True,” Fox allowed. “But… can they even, I don’t know, do that? For one thing, they’re archangels. For another, they’re both men, or, you know, man shaped beings-”

“Oh, that bit doesn’t matter. Humans like to come up with reasons to hate one another so much that they’ll make them based on a book whose whole point is to prevent hate. The first part, though…”

Louisa sighed, apparently having recovered from her shock. “Oh, I love a good tragedy. Star-crossed lovers, and all that. It’s just so romantic.” 

Brandt rubbed his face tiredly. “Are we forgetting that we don’t actually like these particular beings? Or are we throwing all that away for the sake of some made up tragedy?”

Tom nodded. “I agree,” he affirmed. “I have no particular desire to see those two happy. They’re insufferable.”

Cal looked off somewhere behind the group, seeming lost in thought. “I can sympathize with them,” he offered quietly, so only Mayra could hear. Her cheeks heated.

She scowled at the rest of the group; then, realizing that this probably did less to bring the others to her cause and more to ward them off, she sighed and uncrossed her arms. 

“Look. Most of us are immortal. That naturally comes with a little boredom, no?”

Brandt scoffed. “Oh yes, what with being pulled into trying to find Death himself and all, I’ve just had so much free time these days.”

Mayra abandoned her attempt at civility and returned to scowling. “Well, wouldn’t it help to have Gabriel and Raphael in a good mood? Y’know, considering we’re planning to break countless celestial laws, very soon-”

Tom perked up, looking thoughtful. “Fair point. I imagine one would be more compliant if one isn’t distracted by yearning.” He cleared his throat, going red. “Not- not that I would know, of course. I mean- not from personal experience-”

Fox rolled his eyes. “Christ, you’re all unbearable.”

“I see no reason not to try,” Vi spoke up.

“No reason?” Brandt said incredulously. “You are suggesting meddling in the love lives of two extremely powerful beings, who we aren’t even sure can love, by the way, and the only evidence we have that this even has a chance of going well is a look?” He scanned the room in disbelief, as if expecting everyone to suddenly come to their senses.

If that was what he wanted, he was addressing the wrong group.

“Right.” Mayra nodded, turning to the TV and switching it off. Tom protested loudly, and she glared. “If we want to make a plan, we need to be focused.”

“Ugh! You’re the worst!” Tom cried petulantly, stamping his foot. When no sound resulted, he growled and tried again, to the same result. Vi groaned and put her head in her hands. 

“For Pete’s sake, Tom, you’re an adult!”

“Actually, I’m dead, thank you very much,” Tom said snobbily, sticking out his tongue at her.

“Right. A dead adult.”

Mayra just rolled her eyes and strode towards the living room. Well, the one without a TV. There are entirely too many living rooms in this house, she thought.

The hallway leading to her destination was gloomy and pink-walled. Tacky. Walking through the shadows, trailed by the rest of the group, Mayra heard a sound. Out of the gloom, she saw- Oh my God. 

Sly was pushing Lupo against the wall, kissing him furiously. Lupo had the front of Sly’s hoodie bunched in his fists, and the fae’s hair was slipping out of its careful style. Neither seemed to notice the large group of people - and creatures, and beings of various kinds - behind them.

Isis cackled. “Holy shit!”

Brandt groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Christ.”

Lupo startled, hearing them, and pushed Sly away from him quickly. A flash of hurt crossed Sly’s features before he followed the werewolf’s gaze. Then, both of their faces blushed bright red, and Lupo made a sort of choking noise.

Vi pursed her lips and raised a brow. “What’s going on here, gentlemen?” she teased.

Lupo furiously cast about for something to say. “I- we- we were just-”

“Oh, save it,” growled Brandt, pushing forward and brushing past the group into the living room. “I’ve had enough talk of love for the day. Can we just move on?”

The rest of the group slowly trickled after him, Isis and Vi going last. As they crossed the threshold, Isis turned back and smirked. “No funny business, ok boys?” she laughed.

Lupo blushed even darker, but Sly was already taking his hand and pulling him into the kitchen.

“Right,” said Mayra, after a lot of shouting, bickering, and general unpleasantness. “I don’t think we should be doing anything drastic just yet. Cal and I can keep an eye on them for now, especially Gabriel, and make sure there's anything to be doing in the first place.”

Cal nodded, predictably agreeing to anything that allowed him to work with Mayra. 

“Good idea,” Brandt agreed. The rest of them turned to him in shock. This was the first time most of them had heard him actually agree with anything. Most of the time, he acted as if he had some sort of allergy to being anything but contrary.

“What? That gives you dimwits time to realize that this plan is useless,” he growled. 

“I think it’s a good idea to play it safe,” Vi offered. “As entertaining as this could be, I don’t have any particular desire to be smitten in the event that Mayra is wrong.”

“Right, because you could never be smitten,” Fox drawled, looking immensely pleased with his own joke. Vi scowled and pointedly looked away, even as her ears turned pink.

“Ok,” Cal interjected, trying to prevent another round of arguments. “So, Mayra and I will let you know if anything important happens. If her theory is proven, we’ll reassess the situation. Until then, just… don’t mention anything to either Raphael or Gabriel. I’m in no mood to be smitten, either.”

Fox opened his mouth, and before he could single handedly cause an all out brawl, Mayra interrupted. “I need to be off. Y'know, miracles to work, paperwork to file, archangels to antagonize. See you!”

She popped out of existence, and Cal visibly deflated a bit before doing the same. The rest of the group dispersed, Brandt to the library to hide away and generally be unsociable, Isis, Vi, and Tom to finish watching the soccer game. 

Fox decided to make himself a sandwich in the kitchen. As he walked, he considered the new developments. Gabriel, in love? With Raphael? He had a hard time believing that those two could feel anything besides self righteousness and mild annoyance. 

Although, Mayra was an angel, and she was clearly in love, he supposed. He had thought she was an outlier, but maybe not. Maybe the whole star-crossed lovers bit was an angel thing. He sighed wearily as he stepped into the kitchen, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. He had had quite enough of pining and tragic love for several lifetimes. If he never even had to think about love again, he would be happy.

Fox’s plans for a nice turkey and cheese were quickly thrown out the window when he walked in on Lupo and Sly making out against the kitchen counter.

“Good Lord, get a room!”

They settled on The Notebook. They usually settled on The Notebook.

As Noah and Allie kissed for the first time, Gabriel felt an odd twinge in his chest. He pulled a face and rubbed at it. 

Raphael turned to him, confused. “Are you alright?”

He took a breath and nodded. “Yes.” He thought for a moment before deciding to tell his partner the truth. He’d never kept anything from him before - why start now? “I don’t know- I think my vessel may be malfunctioning. I keep getting these… feelings.”

Raphael tilted his head, brow furrowing. “What kinds of feelings? I have feelings. You know, anger, confusion, annoyance-”

“No.” Gabriel shook his head. “They’re none of the ones I know. They feel… warmer. And they make me feel restless.” He failed to mention that they seemed to be triggered by the sight of the other.

Gabriel met Raphael’s gaze, hoping for some explanation or flicker of understanding. “What do you suppose they mean?”

His partner frowned, thinking. “I don’t know. Should we talk to Him?”

Gabriel shook his head quickly. “I don’t want to bother Him. And besides, what if there’s something wrong with me?”

Raphael’s gaze softened. Well, as much as it ever softened, which wasn’t a lot. Gabriel’s midsection began its strange fluttering again. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Gabriel,” Raphael assured him briskly. “I think I would know if there was. I’ve known you for millenia, haven’t I?”

Gabriel nodded, although he wasn’t convinced. “Yes, I suppose…”

He turned back to the hole in reality that served as a screen. Somewhere, someone was very frustrated by their TV’s failure to play their favorite movie. Oh well. It was the archangel’s favorite, too.

The first time they had met, back at, well, the Beginning, they had gotten along instantly. They’d always been about as close as two omnipotent celestial beings could be.

The first time Gabriel had visited Raphael’s place of residence, however, he had looked around awkwardly, not meeting the other’s piercing blue eyes. Something about being in Raphael’s house, even having known one another for all of time, felt so intimate, so... human.

Raphael had cleared his throat and gestured to the living room. 

“Would you like to watch a movie?”

Gabriel had pursed his lips and nodded. “Sure. …What’s a movie?”

Seeming to forget their awkward situation, Raphael’s eyes had lit up. Gabriel would come to learn that movies were one of the few things Raphael was truly passionate about.

“Oh, you’ll love them! They’re like watching a mortal’s life, except you don’t have to keep track of sins, and you can’t change anything!”

Gabriel was baffled. “What? How?”

Raphael’s eyes shone. “Because- get this- they already happened. The mortals found a way to save the past! Isn’t that amazing?”

Gabriel nodded, although he was still unsure. “I- I suppose.”

“How about we watch The Notebook? It’s a favorite of mine.” Raphael looked embarrassed. “I must warn you, though, it's a bit… sentimental.”

Gabriel had nodded again, not wanting the other to go back to his previous awkward state. “No, that- that sounds wonderful.”

He had trailed after his future coworker, feeling an odd sensation in his midsection.

Shit. 

Gabriel snapped out of his memory as the two of them sat down on Raphael’s couch, Raphael's eyes glued to the screen as if he hadn't seen this movie thousands of times. 

Gabriel’s heart sank into his stomach as he realized that this whole… malfunctioning of his vessel has been going on for much, much longer than he thought.

His throat closed up as Raphael’s hand brushed his while reaching for the remote. Perhaps he would lose the ability to breathe. Perhaps his mortal body would die. He wouldn't mind. Maybe it would reset him, fix the settings of this faulty form. 

Pull yourself together, he thought. He took a breath and focused hard on the movie.

Raphael scratched his head. Gabriel, eyes helplessly drawn to the other’s every movement, found that he desperately wished to run his fingers through his partner’s hair, see if it was as soft as it looked.

He was decidedly not pulled together, despite his best efforts.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Mayra Kaleka was restless. She tended to be very single minded - when she had an idea, she wanted to see it through, as soon as possible.

Gabriel, however, was not cooperating in the slightest. 

He was too normal. He sorted boredly through scrolls. He nodded along with Raphael. He scowled and was generally a prick to everyone else.

Which left two options: either Gabriel was used to covering up these feelings, or Mayra had been wrong.

And Mayra was never wrong.

…ok, rarely wrong.

So more than likely, Gabriel was simply accustomed to hiding his little problem, and had had a momentary slip.

What had caused it? Who knew. Maybe it was the shock of her disrespect; maybe he had never thought of fucking anything, much less Raphael. Could angels even fuck? She had no idea. She didn’t have much of a desire to find out, now that she thought of it.

So what should she do? She was getting rather tired of sitting around, watching fruitlessly for any indication of some repressed attraction on Gabriel’s part and studiously ignoring that of the immortals - and one mortal - whom she was with otherwise. Worse, in order to observe her bosses, she had to work. 

The audacity, really. 

After some thought, she had come up with three options:

1. Startle Gabriel again and hope to see another, more conclusive mistake.
2. Find a way to weasel the information out of Gabriel by way of a Freudian slip.
3. Sit here and do nothing for all of eternity, eventually withering away from boredom, at which point she would end up in Hell due to her frankly impressively low score on her record.

The last one was not an option, obviously. The first had a notable chance of ending in her being blasted into nothing and ending up in the same situation as option C would. So then. Interrogation.

But how to interrogate an angel?

Brandt startled as Mayra appeared before him, choking on his apple.

“Good Lord, would you stop doing that?” he spluttered, pounding on his chest.

“No.” Mayra sighed as she looked around the library, taking in the unoccupied chairs around them and the layer of dust on all of the surfaces but the ones Bradt occupied. “Look at you, social butterfly. Where’s Fox? He’s always hovering around you.”

Brandt leaned back in his stiff-looking chair with his usual infuriating disinterest. 

“How should I know?”

“Because you’re the only one here who actually likes him other than me, and I haven’t been in this hellhole for days,” Mayra huffed.

“Who says I like him?”

“For the love of- This isn’t why I came here!” Mayra snapped. 

“Oh? Do enlighten me as to why you did,” Brandt said in a tone which suggested that there was nothing he wanted less than for her to do so.

“If you wanted to get information out of me, how would you do it?” Mayra asked.

“Why do you ask? And why me?” As if he didn’t know perfectly well what she was trying to do.

“Are you capable of anything other than asking questions and being a fucking dick?” Mayra growled.

“I don’t know. Am I?” he smirked.

“You-” Mayra stopped, taking a calming breath that did approximately nothing to calm the burning frustration she felt.

“I’ll stop asking questions if you answer them,” Brandt said.

Mayra sighed, relenting. “I want to see if I can get Gabriel to slip up again, but I don’t know if I can get away with another ‘incident of disrespect’ - or whatever they called it in my ledger - in one piece.”

“Can they even do that? Y’know, worker rights and all. Is there an Angel’s Union?” Brandt mused.

“You're impossible,” Mayra growled. Was there? She should consider signing up before the consequences of this little plan caught up to her: “Never mind. I don’t know why I bothered.”

She turned to stalk out of the room, but Brandt spoke up from behind her. “Get him to open up.”

“What?” Mayra turned back. “Why the hell would Gabriel open up to me?”

Brandt sighed. “Look, you said he was a mess, right?” Mayra grudgingly nodded. “Ok, so, he’s probably freaking out. I doubt he’s used to feelings other than general unhappiness. He wants reassurance.”

“So, what? I go up to him and say, "Hey asshole, I know we both hate each other, but you’ve been off lately, want to tell me about your unrequited crush on your coworker?” Despite her cynical tone, she turned to face him completely, furrowing her brow thoughtfully.

He shrugged. “I mean, pretty much. Casually bring up a mortal’s love life or something, ask him what experience he has with that. When he gets all flustered, all you have to do is push a little, and he’ll be blabbing before he can think to shut his infernal mouth.”

The angel raised a brow. “You seem… experienced at this.” Then she scoffed. “Why am I acting surprised about that? Of course you have experience manipulating people.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Touche.” God, she wanted to slap him. He was so smug and arrogant. Horrifyingly, she was finding herself growing fond of it.

“Ok. I guess its worth a shot.” She nodded and turned to go.

“Ah ah,” Brandt tutted. “Forgetting something?”

Mayra stopped, confused. “I… don’t think so?” She felt her pockets - and yes, female angel’s robes had pockets, heaven was fucked but at least not patriarchal - and frowned. “Nah, I think I have everything.”

Brandt rolled his eyes. “A ‘thank you’ would be nice. Aren’t you angels supposed to mind your manners? Dot your i’s and cross your t’s and whatnot?”

She huffed, unable to muster the energy to argue. “Fine. Thank you. Even if you’re an ass, I guess you were helpful.”

He grinned smugly. “You’re most welcome. Now get out, I’ve had enough of you lot today.”

Ugh.

She turned and strode into the hall, mulling Brandt’s suggestion over. Make Gabriel open up, huh? That could work. It could also go horribly wrong and end up with her being the first angel in history to be fired and also probably very dead, but yes, it had potential.

As she walked, Fox stumbled out of a room on the right of the hall, yawning and running and hand through his bedhead. “Whadareyoudoing,” he mumbled, apparently seeing no purpose in such silly constraints as enunciation and general coherency.

“I’m thinking,” she muttered. She eyed his dark circles critically. “Have you been sleeping?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve been sleeping fine.”

“How many hours?”

“I don’t keep track!”

“How. Many. Hours.”

He grimaced. “Um… three?”

Mayra sighed and glared at Fox in exasperation. “Three?”

He scowled. “No one else in this damn house has to sleep! It's not fair that you guys get to have all the fun while I’m in bed!”

She pursed her lips. “True, I don’t have to sleep. I’m also bound to serve a deity who I’ve never seen, until the end of the world or until my bosses get fed up with me, whichever comes first. So which one of us is lucky?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out.

“I did. I told you, I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how to get my idiot bosses together so they get off my ass.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Just the usual, then.”

A voice spoke directly in her ear. “Learned anything?”

Mayra jumped and spun to find Tom standing/hovering/whatever the hell he did in the middle of the hallway. She pressed a hand to her chest and gasped. “Jesus, Tom, you scared me!”

He smirked. “Sorry. I forget that you can’t, yknow, hear me walking up.”

Fox scowled at the exchange. Well, the half of it that he could hear. Mayra suppressed a laugh as he spoke to decidedly the wrong place. “What is he doing here?”

“Its my house, for God’s sake,” Tom huffed. “You people really should treat me more like a host. I’m being very generous right now, yknow.”

“He says he was just wondering what I had learned, and also hello, how are you,” Mayra relayed. Tom scowled and tried to kick her shin. 

His foot went through her leg and he was thrown off balance, falling to the floor. “Shit!”

Mayra laughed delightedly and held out a hand to help him up. She cackled as he reached up and his hand once again went right through her.

“Fuck you, too,” he growled, standing and dusting off his shirt. Hardly necessary. It was already ruined with blood stains, seeing as he had been murdered in it.

“To answer your question,” she continued smoothly, turning so she could see both men, “I haven’t learned anything. But thanks to some… questionable philosophy by Brandt, I have a plan.”

Fox, as expected, scowled at the mention of the demigod. “I thought he was of the opinion that this was all stupid.”

“He does,” she shrugged. “I suppose he thinks that the sooner this is over with, the sooner he can say ‘I told you so.’”

“Hard to say anything to a pile of ashes or a dolphin or whatever Raphael turns us into when we fail,” grumbled Tom.

Mayra sighed wearily. “Where’s Vi? I need a drink.”

Dreams were not, as a rule, an ‘angel thing’.

This included both the literal and the figurative. Actual dreams were the mind’s way of processing memories, and seeing as angels didn’t bother to remember much, they rarely had them.

Other types of dreams, though - plans, ambitions, aspirations - these also didn’t come naturally to heavenly beings. There was no reason for them. You did as He told you, you did it well, maybe you got a little bonus on the side. That was all angels really needed.

So imagine Gabriel’s surprise when he began to have both kinds of dreams.

He woke, or whatever the angel equivalent was, with a gasp. (Angels did not sleep, exactly. It was more a turning off of the corporeal form, a return to pure consciousness until the body was recharged.)

His first thought upon returning to his body was oh, shit.

Gabriel’s rest had been filled with memories - a walk on the beach, a shaking of hands, a rewatch of a favorite movie. Memories of him. 

He distinctly remembered Raphael taking his hand in his dreams. As far as he could remember, that had never happened. Was he developing an imagination?

This had gone on quite long enough.

He stood from where his body had been sitting as if in meditation, setting his teeth and recalling the memory of a faint touch. He shivered and shook himself.

Gabriel would go see Him. He would explain the problems, everything would be sorted, and maybe he would even receive some compensation.

Ok, maybe that was a stretch.

But as he blearily trudged toward the door - he had been resting in his place of residence - he paused.

What if there was something wrong with him? Something fundamentally flawed, some inherent malfunction?

What if God took away this not-so-sudden affection?

That should not have bothered him.

Gabriel found that it bothered him immensely.

And here was the second kind of dream, that tendency of the mind to search out a reality that the universe has refused to employ.

And here was another false memory, a stolen glance, an embrace, the whisper of someone’s lips.

No. He could not admit these feelings to anyone, least of all the Almighty.

And so Gabriel still stood in the hallway, wringing his hands, frozen in place, when that meddling lower angel appeared beside him.

“Holy shit!” he blurted, spinning and stumbling back from her. He quickly righted himself and cleared his throat, trying to slow his breathing. “Th-that is to say, um, wh-”

“I need help with a ledger.”

He narrowed his eyes, immediately suspicious. Since when did this angel - Mayra, yes, that was it - ask for help from him, let alone help with proper procedures? “Oh? What about it? Surely you know all there is to know by now.”

“Well, this is a special case,” she explained. “You see, this human… they’re in a forbidden love affair.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, mond already moving back to his own problem.

“Adultery? They do that so much, that should be muscle memory for you by now. 50 points for each day.” Heaven was not exactly tolerant of these things. Adulterers tended to be very, very deep in the negatives on their scrolls.

Mayra sighed. “No, nothing like that. You see, these lovers have been separated by their jobs. They’re close colleagues in a very important position, and they have been going against authority to continue the affair.” She looked up at him innocently, eyes gleaming with- amusement? Gabriel may not have been the most socially aware, but that seemed off.

He frowned as he processed her words. The situation was… eerily similar to his. No. He and Raphael were not lovers. He could not allow himself to think that way.

He didn’t realize that he had been standing silently for too long until Mayra cleared her throat. “Gabriel?”

He snapped back to reality and cleared his throat. “I suppose you shouldn’t take any points,” he said.

Her brow furrowed. “No points? But- disobedience, lying-”

He shook his head. “Leave the ledger as it is,” he said more firmly. “It’s not- they can’t control their attraction. Authority isn't absolute except for that of the Almighty.”

She nodded slowly, scrutinizing him. “You seem… very knowledgeable about this. Have you had a similar scroll before?”

He cleared his throat, looking resolutely at the stark white paint of the wall behind her. It stood out against her dark hair nicely. Her hair was very shiny, quite well-kept. He wondered how she cared for it. He wondered why he was thinking about that. He realized he was avoiding the question. That probably didn’t help his case.

“I… yes,” he said slowly, still not making eye contact. How did mortals manage to be sociable all day? This was positively exhausting. “I’ve encountered a… similar situation before.”

Mayra perked up eagerly. “Oh? Tell me more!” She grimaced. “Um, sir.”

His cheeks flushed. Since when did he even have blood? Or had that particular feature manifested solely to further his perpetual humiliation by the universe? 

“It was a long time ago,” he said briskly. “I don’t remember the particulars.”

“Oh.” Mayra looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, if it was that special, surely you remember something?”

And here he should have said, No, actually, I don’t, and I do have duties so if you would be so kind as to let me attend to them yes alright thank you goodbye. But he found that his voice didn't follow his instructions. 

“Well, I believe they had known each other a long time,” Gabriel found himself saying. “And one of them was rather smitten with the other. But he didn’t know if he was actually smitten, he didn’t really know what that felt like, but he was fairly sure he was and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.”

The words escaped him in a rush. His mind screamed at him to shut his stupid mouth for once and not make things harder on himself, damnit Gabriel can’t you keep quiet for one second. But the rational part of him was overshadowed by his sheer idiocy, it seemed.

He took a breath, intending it to escape him the same way but his stupid vocal chords got in the way and before he knew it he was talking again, even as he seemed to watch himself from an outside point, clenching his fists at the movie of his life in which he was the stupid, babbling character that ruined it for everyone else.

“And- and he couldn’t help it, even though he had tried, he really had, he wanted more than anything for it to go away. But it didn’t. So I- I didn’t take any points. I decided to give him some grace.” He wrung his hands. “I thought maybe... he deserved some kindness.” 

Gabriel clamped his mouth shut, looking at the floor and trying very hard to pretend that he hadn’t just done that.

Mayra stood there, mouth open, seeming unsure what to say. Fair. Gabriel wasn’t sure what to say either, although clearly he wasn't the best at thinking before he spoke. Stupid.

“I see. That’s… well. Hm. That’s certainly detailed,” she said slowly. “Did you… know this person personally, or…?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped, suddenly fed up with her and everyone else and primarily himself. “I’m just observant. Part of the job.”

She scowled at him. “Can you get through one conversation without being an ass?”

“I probably could,” he said, shrugging. “If I wanted to.”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right. Well. Thank you, I suppose. You’ve given me some very useful insight.”

That seemed suspicious. Or maybe he was paranoid.

Although knowing Mayra, he could never be too suspicious of her.

Every time they all gathered together, Mayra was struck by what an odd group they all made.

An angel, a reaper, a demigod, a semi-mortal, a vampire, a ghost. It was as if a small child with an overactive imagination had written a story with characters from all of their favorite TV shows.

Few things, she knew, could make such different kinds of people (well, not technically people) work together. Hatred was one of them. So was ignorance.

And so was good, old fashioned meddling.

“Let’s hear it,” Brandt sighed, apparently trying very hard to maximize his assholishness. He slouched in his chair, fiddling with a golden apple and periodically sighing just loudly enough to make his irritation clear. “What basic action have you wildly misinterpreted this time?”

Vi, turning from where she had been berating Tom for something or other, shot Brandt a glare before facing Mayra again expectantly. “Do you have confirmation? Holy shit, Tom, I already told you-”

“He’s whipped,” Mayra grinned. “It’s worse than I thought. Well, worse for him. Definitely better for us, or at least more entertaining.”

Fox raised a brow. “How do you know?”

She related her previous conversation with Gabriel, met with everything from rolled eyes (Brandt) to gaping mouths (Tom). Isis snickered, looking delighted. Vi and Cal stood with wide eyes. Fox stood stoically, only showing that he was listening at all with the occasional raised brow, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Seriously? Not only is he a mess, he’s so damn obvious about it,” Tom laughed in disbelief. 

“Oh, come off it, you can’t be talking,” Brandt sneered.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tom growled, standing as if to confront the demigod. Not his smartest idea, seeing as he couldn’t touch anyone. Although it certainly wasn’t his stupidest, either.

“Come on, let's not fight,” Cal cut in anxiously. “This is good news. We have leverage now.”

“And we’re going to use that how?” Isis questioned, feet kicked up on the coffee table. Tom was glaring silently at the dirt her shoes had dusted on the surface, as if he could cut off her legs with a glare.

“I…” Mayra cleared her throat. “I’m not sure yet. That's why I called this meeting.”

Brandt laughed in a way that said you are all very stupid and I have given up on being annoyed so I have chosen to simply be amused. “Meeting? As if we’re in some kind of secret society?”

“Not helping,” Fox gritted out.

“We can work out a plan now,” Cal once again intervened. “Why don’t we lay out the facts?”

Mayra nodded, thankful that the reaper had taken back control of the room. Time to get to work.

“Alright, here’s what we know.”

Chapter Text

It was not movie night.

Raphael should not have been upset by this. He should not have had any desire to see Gabriel outside of an official capacity.

These standards had been long thrown out the window, and he had given up denying it.

He curled tighter in on himself, wings around his shoulders. Sitting in the corner like a petulant child, he had found, was actually very good for when he felt as if he were spiraling through the air. Like a fallen angel dropping into hell.

Not a helpful thought at the moment.

He missed Gabriel. Missed him like they hadn’t seen one another in years, when in actuality it had been centuries since they had spent more than a few hours apart.

But his chest didn't seem to get the memo, aching in a way that felt oddly tight. It was like a part of himself was desperately trying to push its way out of his pores, to reach across uncounted miles and find his other half.

Other half? Where had that come from?

Now that he thought of it - against his will, hands wringing and muscles tensing restlessly - he supposed Gabriel was his other half, objectively. As far as either of them could tell, they had come into being simultaneously with the creation of the universe. They had asked God, of course, but he had tapped his chin and, after a moment, shook his head. “You know, I’m not sure I actually created you two. I would remember making beings so incompetent.”

They had left quickly, puzzling together over the mystery of their being.

“You know, maybe we just are,” Gabriel had mused, crossing his arms. “The same way He is.”

“Can we really compare ourselves to Him?” Raphael had asked nervously.

“Don’t see why not. He compares himself to Zeus all the time.”

“Between us, I think he’s rather jealous of the lightning,” Raphael had whispered conspiratorially. Gabriel’s eyes had sparkled with silent laughter, and Raphael had smiled.

His partner’s eyes were beautiful.

Not helping. Raphael growled in frustration and stood, unfurling his wings and padding barefoot to stand outside. Perhaps fresh air would do him good. Not that any air in Heaven wasn’t perfectly clear and crisp, but the sterile void-white of the walls had begun to feel oppressive.

He was so frazzled that when Mayra Kaleka appeared behind him, he didn’t have the presence of mind not to cry out. “Jesus fucking Christ!”

She paused, staring blankly for a moment. “Yeah, I go by Mayra now,” she said mechanically, because apparently she found no greater joy than in making him feel worse.

If he had had a heart, it surely would have given out by now from all the frights he’d been having recently. They needed to have a chat about scheduling materializations ahead of time.

Raphael growled in frustration and rounded on her fully, squaring up as if for a fight. “What do you want, Mayra Kaleka?”

Mayra grinned that sharp edged grin that meant Raphael should probably not listen to her, but would anyway.

“I want to help you.”

Raphael raised a brow, even as his stomach dropped. Surely she couldn’t know. He had been very subtle. He thought.

“With what, exactly?”

“With your malfunction.”

Oh.

So not very subtle, then.

Damn.

“Excuse me?” Raphael put his shaking hands on his hips and looked at her with what he judged to be the appropriate amount of disdain. “And what, pray tell, is malfunctioning?” He knew he couldn’t fool her, but he wanted to preserve whatever shreds of his dignity still clung.

Mayra looked at him as if he were very stupid, which, again, given recent events was a fair assessment. “Your mind. Obviously.”

“I will have you know that I am functioning perfectly, as I am, I will remind you, a celestial being-”

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” Mayra seemed exasperated. Raphael bristled. He was supposed to be the one being exasperated.

“You may think you’re being subtle, but having been mortal, I know the signs of… infatuation.”

He froze, any sputtering hope that she had been talking about something else vanishing. Fighting the urge to begin pacing - when had he become so God forsakenly human? - he cleared his throat.

“I don’t know what you-”

“For fuck's sake!” Mayra cried, shoulders slumping. “I can tell you’re in love with Gabriel! Christ, for something all knowing, you are stupid!”

He clamped his mouth shut. Dropped his hands. Clenched his fists.

She knew. And if she could tell, so could others, and if he wasn’t careful, Gabriel…

Well, damn. There was nothing else he could do.

“...Can you. Help me,” he said awkwardly, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. 

Mayra grinned sharply again, looking for all the world like Gabriel when he made a particularly witty joke.

“Alright, tell me everything.”

•        •        •

Where to start?

Raphael found it difficult to pinpoint where this had all begun. That moment when he had first become aware of the push in his chest? The first time he had found himself looking at Gabriel first after making a joke, hoping he would laugh?

Or had it been long before that - had he malfunctioned the first time he saw Gabriel? The first time his warm brown eyes had found Raphael’s face, had crinkled at the edges, tiny imperfections in his skin-

“Raphael!” Mayra snapped her fingers in front of his face, her expression telling him that this wasn’t the first time she had called his name. “Focus, dude.”

“I am not a dude,” he said with offense. “I am an archangel.”

“Yes, congratulations, I’m very lucky to have the opportunity to lick your damn boots. Now tell me what happened.”

He took a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know when this all started.”

She sighed, resting her elbows on her knees where she sat in an armchair across from him. He had insisted they do this inside, mostly because the extra 30 seconds it took to enter the house gave him time to think. Try to think. It didn’t work very well.

“How about this. When was the first time you found yourself genuinely upset that he wasn’t around?”

He swallowed, thinking. “Er… I don’t know.”

He bristled at Mayra’s groan. “I have known him for quite literally all of eternity! How the hell should I know when- when that happened?”

Mayra pursed her lips. “Would you just take a moment and think?”

He glowered at her momentarily in what he hoped was a scathing manner before sighing and closing his eyes. Running though his memories with Gabriel - which constituted much of his memory, and essentially most of time itself - was a frustrating, tedious thing.

There was their first movie night. Their first trip to Earth, first fit of laughter over some stupid joke only they could understand.

And then there was…

Ah.

When the universe was still new, Gabriel and Raphael had still been getting used to being, well, Gabriel and Raphael - and to being at all, he supposed. And the backdrop of all this being was an infinite, unimaginable expanse of matter which was slowly but surely forming into things.

In the Beginning, Gabriel had loved nothing more than to watch the collosal cogs and tiny gears of the universe working together, stars exploding and tiny grains of dust starting a swirl that would become a whole planet. He had used lots of words like nebulae and electromagnetic, which Raphael had gamely pretended to understand, if only to watch his partner’s eyes light up as he spoke. 

Besides, the words had sounded so beautiful in the language of the universe, that fluid understanding with which everything had spoken back then. Much less technical than their human counterparts.

There had been one particular sector whose progress Gabriel had been watching over centuries that stretched like millenia and folded like seconds. Time was odd back then - molding itself like taffy.

The area was a swirling expanse of blue-green, undulating and pulsing with soft light.

In this moment, clustered and unfurling from the many to come, Gabriel had been watching the mass shifting in rapt awe. That was the most emotion Raphael had ever seen on his face up until then, and the title held up to this moment sitting with Mayra. His jaw had been slack, staring adoringly up at the beginnings of nothing becoming something. 

He had turned to Raphael. To share a fact, or crack a joke, or just to point excitedly at something, Raphael couldn't remember - but he could remember how being the subject of that gaze of pure wonder had felt.

It had felt like being caught in the rays of the sun. Like how the face of a lake greedily drinks in the soft light of stars. Like something animal inside him was clawing its way out, begging for this other presence to witness its desperation.

Christ, it had made him wish that look was really for him.

He related this - with significantly less melodramatics - to Mayra, whose mouth hung open slightly. Her eyes glittered with unsung laughter. “Good Lord, you are whipped!” she crowed.

He startled, lifting his head from its slouch. The feathers on his wings ruffled indignantly. “I just related my most vulnerable moment to you, and that’s what you say?”

She fought her grin. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not making fun of you. …Well, not any more than I usually am.” She gave him a look that made him feel like a child with a playground crush. “But you have to admit, it is a little cute.”

“Mayra Kaleka, I will tell you this once. Calling a celestial being cute is a good way to get yourself killed, vaporized, or otherwise harmed very badly.”

She pulled a skeptical face. “Bet you're fun at parties.”

“Angels don’t have parties.”

A bark of laughter. “Speak for yourself.”

He narrowed his eyes, but before he could voice any suspicions, she was marching on relentlessly. Never a dull moment with this one. Certainly lots of unpleasant ones, but humans were rarely boring.

“Right, so we’ve established that you’re in love with Gabriel. Now-”

“Excuse me?” One last desperate part of him had really hoped she would realize she had been gravely mistaken, her mortal instincts for love were rusty, and no, Raphael, I think you’re just coming down with something.

Mayra clenched her fists and shook them helplessly at nothing. A hopelessly human thing; emotions so spontaneous and a mind so slow that they simply made vague movements and hoped someone understood.

On a completely separate note, he was twisting his hands together in a way he had never been compelled to before.

She took a breath and spoke to him as if he were a small child. “Ok. Raphael. You always want to be around Gabriel, right?”

“...Yes.”

“And he makes you happier than anyone, right?”

Slightly more resigned. “Yes.”

“And you’re drawn to him, physically and otherwise?”

“I… um. Yes.”

“So the logical explanation would be..?”

He sighed and slumped, dropping his head into his hands. “Fuck.”

She smiled, and if he hadn’t known better he would have said it held some genuine sympathy. “Pretty much.”

He stared into nothing, hands tented over his mouth. “Right. I- Right. Yes. Ok. What do I do?”

She cocked her head. “Well, what do you want to do?”

Scream. Kiss him. Throw up. There were a lot of possible answers to that question, and none of them were ideal.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” he finally groaned. Very eloquent. “I don’t know how this sort of thing is meant to… work.”

Mayra hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose usually, you would just. Tell him?”

“Tell him?” Raphael’s mouth gaped, and stood abruptly, beginning to pace. “No. No. Not an option.”

Mayra, astonishingly, didn’t have a reply. She just watched him, as if waiting for something. Who did she think she was? Who did she think he was? He couldn’t just- Obviously she- 

Words pushed their way out of him before he could think better of it, his restless movement continuing practically without effort on his part.

“I couldn’t. It would only complicate things. He’s- Damn it, he would never think of me that way. He’s much too smart for me. And too funny, and-” He finally snapped his mouth shut, going pink.

“Raphael-” Mayra’s unexpected patience was quickly replaced with crossed arms and an exasperated stare. “You two are basically the same person. Being.”

That brought him back to himself momentarily. “Have you even met him? We’re completely different!”

“You finish each other's sentences.”

“Irrelevant! He’s- well. He’s much better at… everything than I ever was.” He abandoned his anger as a lost cause and sank back into his chair, gesturing vaguely.

The sympathy was back, but reluctantly, as if it were fine china she only brought out for special occasions and dreaded washing. “Raphael. Seriously. Stop it with the inferiority thing.”

“...What?”

“The whole boo hoo, the guy I’m in love with is too good for me thing.”

“I’m not-”

“You are. Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen if you tell him?”

Every time he started to think she had the barest scrap of critical thinking, she would say something like that. “He could reject me. Things could be off between us for the rest of time. God could quite literally cast us out of Heaven-”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Right, ok, I get it. Although I don’t think that last thing would happen. How about this- what’s the worst that could happen if you didn’t tell him?”

That gave him pause. He had been obsessing so much over what to do, that he hadn’t stopped to consider simply doing nothing.

Now he did. If he ignored it, tried to move on - if Gabriel never knew how he felt. It would avoid the possibility of rejection. It would protect his position as archangel, which he was quite convinced would be in danger if he did confess, no matter what Mayra said.

But.

It would also avoid all possibility of not being rejected. He would live with this longing in his chest for eternity, constantly feel this ache in the hollow of his ribs.

And there would be movie nights, and there would be ledgers, and always his heart would sing I love you, I love you, and always his mouth would remain shut.

“I…” Suddenly this was all too real. His hands shook. He was sick to his stomach. He thought he might vomit. He thought he might cry.

He was crying. Shit.

He pulled his hands from his face, staring at them as he felt the wet warmth of his tears slipping over the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, damn you, sappy fledgeling,” Mayra said as if through gritted teeth.

Then someone was hugging him. Mayra? No, that couldn’t be right. He was very close to certain that she despised him. Why hug someone with whom you shared nothing but annoyance and animosity?

But there were dark curls filling his vision, warm skin against his back. Against all odds, it was her. Must be a mortal thing.

Against his better judgement, which appeared to have recently taken an extended holiday, he pressed his face into Mayra’s hair, letting tears slip down his nose. After a moment she pulled back, looking faintly as if she had just been swimming in a landfill.

“Raphael.” That was all she said at first, settling back into her own chair; she began chewing thoughtfully on her lip, twisting her hands as if weaving the right words. “Look. We’ve had… our differences.”

He gave her a deadpan look, though its effect was offset by his wet cheeks.

“...ok, yes, I know. But I don’t hate you. I can sympathize with your situation. And, independent from any plans I may or may not have, I think you deserve someone. Honestly, I think you guys would be cute.” 

The insinuation that she had, or had previously had, some sort of ulterior motive should have worried him, but in honesty he was just relieved to talk with someone who had more experience in all this than him. 

She unexpectedly sat forward and took his hands, staring at him intently. "But I can’t make this decision for you.”

He knew that, but it still made his stomach sink. He was so used to being told what to do, when to do it- having this thing that was all his own terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.

“I’m afraid I’ll never work up the courage,” Raphael admitted softly, meeting her eyes. He felt vulnerable, flayed open.

“Oh, come on.” She squeezed his hands, then released them. Some of her usual sarcasm was back, which was some relief. The sentimentality had been making everything seem even more off balance. “You’re an actual archangel. From the Bible. I think you can handle this.”

“You greatly overestimate me.”

“A fairly easy thing to do.”

He scowled. “Are you going to be helpful or an ass?”

Mayra grinned at that. “Why choose?” Then she stood, apparently satisfied that she had done all she could. If Raphael still wanted to be a lost cause, that was on him. “Right, well. I’ll see you around. Think on it.” She turned to walk away, then abruptly rounded on him. “And if you tell anyone I hugged you, I swear I will-”

“Noted.” He smiled; a real one, as he hadn’t since he’d last seen Gabriel. “Thank you, Mayra Kaleka.”

“Yeah, whatever.” And she was gone.

The animal in his chest clawed at its cage. 

His heart beat in time with its counterpart.

Alone, Raphael let himself cry.

•        •        •

“So?” Isis was there the moment she walked in the door, needling her with questions and lounging against the wall. “How’d it go?”

“I’ll tell you once everyone is together. Is the kitchen available or are Sly and Lupo in there?”

A grin. “Nah, Louisa got on them for it. They’ve recently discovered the wonders of private rooms.”

Mayra sighed. “I pray the walls are thick.”

She managed, after much time, arguing, and raised voices, to gather everyone in the kitchen. She figured letting them snack would keep them happy, and full mouth’s couldn’t hurl insults. Unless you were Vi, who apparently had no time for things such as manners.

Once everyone had some food and the death threats were mostly exhausted, she cleared her throat. “Ok, listen up.”

She recounted her conversation with Raphael, though admittedly she skimmed past the parts where she was borderline kind to him. What the others didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, and she did have a reputation to uphold.

When she was done, Cal was smiling to himself. Clearly he, too, felt some sympathy. Most of the others were grinning, though whether the grins held any unkindness she couldn't be sure.

Brandt, as usual, was trying his utmost to look supremely bored.

“Ok, so what?” You got the damn idiot to confess. Remind me how this helps us?” he sneered.

“Well, for one, if they’re busy sucking face they’ll get off our asses,” pointed out Fox.

Tom nodded, agreeing with Fox; a rare sight. Mayra wished Fox could have seen it, but that also had a not insubstantial chance of leading to another murder. “And, honestly, this is entertaining. Certainly not as high stakes as finding Death.”

“Just a little fun,” summarized Mayra, “with the added bonus of giving us room to breathe.”

Brandt pursed his lips but shrugged magnanimously, as a king giving into the petition of a group of nagging peasants. “I suppose.”

“Party pooper,” mumbled Tom petulantly. Vi tried to kick him. Her toe hit a cabinet and she cursed, hopping in place.

Mayra cleared her throat, trying to get to her next point. “Anyway, I’ve done my part. It’s someone else’s turn to keep up this momentum.”

“Do we have to?” pouted Fox. “I don’t like seeing those two any more than I need to.”

“Yes. And just for that, I’m nominating you as the person to do it.”

“But-”

“Seconded.” Brandt raised his hand in that purposefully halfhearted manner of a man in a class whose subject he is sure he is the most informed on.

Fox glared angrily at him, and he smiled sweetly back.

“Ok, Fox it is. All you have to do is have a talk with Raphael; make sure things are moving along. I’m sure you have lots of pining advice.”

“What does that-”

“Meeting adjourned!” Mayra clapped her hands and everyone dispersed, trailing snack crumbs and bickering.

Fox slumped and ran his hands over his face, sighing. “Right.”