Uriel lit a cigarette and gazed, more than a little angstily, at the pillar that rose from the Palace to be highlighted against the moon.
The Metatron's Tower.
What /was/ he going to do? he mused, inhaling the smoke, letting it trail up over his upper lip like a kiss.
Review the facts.
One. The Metatron was madly and passionately in love with him. Uriel winced inwardly. Bad, bad, bad. Having the most powerful and the most ditzy angel in the Heavenly Realm in love with you, when you... when you didn't...
Two. The Metatron threw the most queen-ish screeching fit Uriel had seen for years when, finally convinced that the Metatron WASN'T going to try to hurt himself, he decided to go out for some time on the town. He snorted smoke. He wasn't going to stop his enjoyment of others. Not even for the Metatron. Even if...
Three. Uriel let his eyes close and rubbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Three. He wasn't sure how he felt...
"It'll kill you, you know," a husky voice murmured behind him. A very familiar voice.
Uriel was on his feet, facing away from the Tower at once. "Miniel!" he shouted, delighted, letting the cigarette fall from his hands, to the rock below, where it sputtered out. "It's been..."
Miniel smiled, or Uriel thought he did. It was hard to tell; the angel of lust was rather well hidden. Wrapped several times around by a cloak, wearing billowy garments that completely obscured his form, with the hood of his cloak thrown up over his halo and head, and with a cloth covering his nose and mouth to make his breathing quieter -- as if Miniel's breathy tone /needed/ to get quieter. It was hard to see anything of him except for the pure blue eyes that sparkled at Uriel's startled stare. "A while, yes."
"What's with all that?" Uriel asked dryly, gesturing at the clothing. "Don't tell me you've been scarred?" Even as he said it, he worried that it might be true. Miniel had always been so vain...
"No," Miniel said. "But I'm not back for long, and it's not official, so I don't really want to be seen. So..." he gestured one gloved hand at the Tower. "Why were you moping?"
There was no way he was answering that, not to Miniel. Uriel smiled silkily, took a few steps into Miniel's personal space, and wiggled his hand between layers of cloth to find skin, soft, smooth skin. "No reason. Staying for long?" Letting his hand slide lower, he raised his other to pull Miniel's cloth mask away, revealing the full lips he remembered.
"Longer now, perhaps," Miniel whispered, capturing Uriel's lips with his own.
They kissed, and Uriel tugged Miniel's cloak away, totally unprepared for Miniel's sudden, "Don't!"
Uriel swallowed, taking a step back. "Your..."
The hood had been stuffed to make it look taller, and Miniel's halo was missing.
"An accident," Miniel murmured. "I'll get it back, don't worry." His voice was convincing, assured. Well on the path to retrieving his halo, the voice implied. His clothing slid away as if designed to do just that and Uriel swallowed again for a very different reason. There was a reason, he remembered, that he and Miniel had been such good friends way back when. Even now, Miniel's muscled, Greek-god body glowed, huge sweeping wings tucked behind him.
Miniel bent his head again to Uriel's and his weight bore them to the ground. "Don't think of it," Miniel murmured. "Just don't think of anything."
Clothing slipped, without much effort, to the floor to end up in a pile of gauzy cloth of mildly mismatched colours. He stretched, body shimmering slightly, wings outstretched, and then quite literally dove into the deep end of his bath.
The Metatron's bath was what other people called a pool. Or a lake. Depending.
He swam lazily, lazily, then sputtered as Most Holy's sudden comment distracted him, sent him under the waters. "NOT when I'm busy," he shrieked.
And then froze, eyes wide. "Well, YOU should know where he is. Why--"
And he was scrambling for the lip of the tub, ignoring towels and reaching for clothing. Not wanting to waste time.
Uriel. He had to find Uriel.
Most Holy couldn't.
Raphael was looking for spare overheads when Uriel found him, crept up and pounced. "Wah!" More off-balance than usual, with the sleekly muscled angel clinging to him, Raphael fell forward into the shelves. "Uriel!"
A tongue found Raphael's ear, worked it.
And suddenly unimpressed, Raphael span, pushed Uriel away. "No, Uriel."
Uriel smiled, reached forward. Ran a finger down Raphael's chest. "Aw, come on. It's good for you."
"No," Raphael said, firmly. "NO, Uriel. I have Mikael now. You know how I feel about monogamy."
"Mikael?" Uriel said blankly. "Who's Mikael?"
Raphael's lavender eyes widened. "Uriel? You okay? Got hit on the head or something?" He looked at the dark circles under Uriel's eyes and frowned. "Actually, you don't look that good. Are you sick? Maybe you should go home. Let the Metatron make you some soup or something. Okay, that wouldn't make you BETTER, but..."
A step back, and a bright smile. "No, no, I'm fine, Raphael. Sorry. Just not thinking. Right, didn't mean to try to get between you and Mikael. Oh! Have you seen Cassiel? I wanted to talk to him about something."
More worry spread through Raphael's middle. "Uriel, Cassiel's been on assignment to earth for five months now." Again, that blank expression on Uriel's face. "Now, look, you're going to bed. Now. Alone, preferably. You've got classes, you can't afford to get sick now. Come on." He reached, touched Uriel's elbow, and Uriel jerked away.
Wide-eyed. Scared. He looked scared.
"No, it's all right," Uriel said. "Sorry. I'll see you around, okay?"
Blue eyes pleaded.
And Uriel let the door swing shut behind him.
Raphael stared at the door for a minute, then went to find Gabriel.
Quickly.
The Metatron burst into Gabriel's office, grey eyes dark with worry, chest heaving. Silken clothes clung to his skin, hiding nothing, darker where the wetness from his bath had seeped through, and his hair was down from its usual ponytail, soaking his shirt and hanging in his eyes.
"Gabriel!" he shouted, leaning down to put his hands on the Administrator's shoulders. "Gabriel, have you seen Uriel?" His voice was sharp, thick with panic.
Gabriel stared at him for a moment as if he didn't recognize the thin, pale whirlwind that had entered his office, then threw himself back as if he'd been touched by something slimy and disgusting. "Metatron, I'm BUSY. If you're missing your lover, try checking other people's beds."
"No, that's not it, that's not it at all." The Metatron was babbling at him, leaning forward so that his shirt slowly peeled away from damp skin with the sound of wet silk. Gabriel could see a nipple and didn't want to. "No, Gabriel, He can't find him either, it's no good, there's something terribly wrong, and Uriel's not here and He can't find him..."
Nostrils flared in Gabriel's face. "Watch your damned referents, Metatron. I have no idea what you are TALKING about."
The Metatron slammed a fist down onto the desk. His face was red and so screwed up that his eyes had shut. "Uriel is missing and I can't find him and Most Holy can't find him and--"
Raphael burst into the room. "Gabriel, I just saw Uriel and--"
A moment of silence as everyone stared at each other. Then the Metatron span and grabbed Raphael.
"You saw Uriel!"
Raphael nodded, jerkily. "Um, yes, I saw Uriel, only something's not right." He pushed the Metatron back, gently, and Gabriel saw that the Metatron was crying, softly.
He felt bad, then caught himself feeling bad and stared at a wall instead.
Hands wove through the air as Raphael started to explain. "He... he didn't know who Mikael was and he didn't know that Cassiel's on Earth. I mean, Cassiel and he often work together for classes when Cassiel's here, of course Uriel knows that Cassiel's gone. But he didn't know. There's something terribly wrong."
Gabriel blinked and checked the calendar. Five months and two and a half weeks. "The Angel of Tears has been gone for /months/," he said, softly, beginning to find the problem. "Uriel went to the party to see him off."
"And he was talking," Raphael said, petting the Metatron's hair. "Like Uriel does. But he looked sad. And scared. In the eyes. Even as he was smiling. I thought he was sick. But--"
Gabriel rose. "Raphael, check the school. I'll check the barracks and the Metatron can check the city. Not much of a chance, but it's a place to start. If there's something wrong with Uriel... he's too powerful. He needs to be found. NOW. So we can find out what's wrong."
The Metatron was still crying, crying and nodding, manicured hands over face.
"We don't have time for this," Gabriel said, trying to moderate his voice because he realized, seeing that, that the Metatron wasn't hysterical. Not at all.
He was scared, because it was completely obvious that something was terribly wrong, that his loved one might... not longer be... there.
And Gabriel could only appreciate that. Even if the papers on his desk were wet from the Metatron leaning over them. "We'll find him," he said, gently. "But we have to start now."
Cassiel wasn't here.
Cassiel was on earth.
Oh, it figured. How it /figured/.
Cassiel was needed for the plan to work. Wasn't he? It might be POSSIBLE to get this done without Cassiel there.
Without the Angel of Sorrow. Without the Keeper of the Gates.
It would just take more work.
Raphael ran through the school, checking out Uriel's favourite hangouts, and when that turned up no results, began randomly opening doors.
Random sometimes worked.
Classes full of stupefied students stared at him for a moment before the doors closed again. At one point, Mikael blinked at him, and Raphael shrugged, thought a telepathic, Urgent, glanced around the room, and left, leaving Mikael trailing mental questions behind him.
Nothing. Tossing the Lounge door open one last time, hopefully, he saw nothing but Suriel and Azrael, who both looked up at him, surprised.
"Raphael?"
Quickly, Raphael outlined the problem.
And smiled sympathetically as Azrael began to spew curses.
Gabriel threw the Barracks door open and took a quick look around. Some soldiers looked up from a card game, startled.
"Uriel," Gabriel said, quick and to the point. "Have you seen Uriel?"
The soldiers looked at each other and snickered. "EVERYONE's seen Uriel at one point or another," one pointed out.
This wasn't the time. "Where's the captain?" Gabriel snarled.
It slowly seemed to dawn on the others that Gabriel was in a Mood, and one -- blond -- rose quickly. "I'll get him, sir."
Not long, but far too much time later, Raguel came from another room, toweling off his short sky-blue hair. "Gabriel. What brings you here?"
Raguel was an impressive angel. Most strong angels in the school were sleekly muscled, lithe, catlike. Raguel fell more under pure force. Not ugly, but very tall, with shoulders that made most people do a double take to see if they were real.
"Uriel is missing," Gabriel said shortly. "Have you seen him?"
"No. Is it urgent?" Raguel asked the last as if ready to set out tactics when the word was given.
Gabriel weighed that. "Yes, it is."
"Did he go over?" Raguel asked. "It's been a betting matter for a long time now when exactly he'd go to the Morning Star. The way he acts--"
The Administrator felt his lips tighten and couldn't seem to stop them. Uriel could be somewhat...hedonistic, it was true, but his loyalty was something that Gabriel had NEVER had cause to doubt. "No. He didn't. He's unwell and not in his right mind at the moment, and considering how powerful he is, we want him found."
"Unwell?" Raguel murmured. "Well, that's what he gets for acting like a whore."
The soldiers laughed.
"If you see him--"
"Take him into custody?"
Gabriel hated owing them anything. "Yes. And bring him straight to me."
"Of course," Raguel said, smiling. "I wouldn't dream of anything but."
Eyes widened and Gabriel stared at him for a moment, wondering -- then turned and left. It wasn't worth arguing the point.
Once in the city, the Metatron realized again how very large it was.
Dead souls, everywhere. He grabbed one, ignoring the woman's wide-eyed fear. "Excuse me, miss. Have you seen an angel, about so tall, 30s-style gangster pinstripe suit..."
She was shaking her head, rapidly. "No, my lord. Haven't seen any angels for a long time. I'm sorry, my lord..."
He let her go, looked around frantically. Where did Uriel /go/ in the city? He set off for the dwellings of some of the angels he knew, hoping--
Not with Camael. Nor here... nor there... not with...
Almost ready to give up, already giving in to tears a little, he burst into his brother's house.
Sandalphon looked up from the book he was reading and took one look at his twin's wild eyes and heaving chest. "Metatron... what..."
"Sand," the Metatron choked, and threw himself forward into his brother's arms.
Quietly, Sandalphon rubbed the Metatron's back, between his wings, until the panicked sobs had quieted somewhat. He rose, smiling down at his brother's still-shaking form. "Come on. I'll get you some tea and you can tell me all about it."
Sniffing, the Metatron nodded.
Muted robes swished as Sandalphon moved towards his small kitchen, working quietly and efficiently to put the tea on. His own hair was the same colour as the Metatron's, though he let his fall straight without the decorated ponytail the Metatron favoured. The difference between them was in the eyes -- Sandalphon's were gold -- and the attitude. When the Metatron entered a room, everything about him screamed for attention. Sandalphon was quiet in every means -- movement, vocally, his clothing, his posture. There was always tea on at Sandalphon's; The Metatron was lucky if he remembered how to boil water.
The Metatron dug out a pink handkerchief and blew his nose loudly.
"Here," Sandalphon said, handing a teacup to the Metatron carefully. "So. Are you going to tell me?"
Sipping the tea, the Metatron sniffed again, wondering where to start. "I fell in love."
"Ah." Sandalphon winced. "A dangerous beginning. And this person didn't love you back?"
Chewing on his bottom lip, the Metatron realized he'd forgotten his lip gloss that morning. "Well, no, he doesn't, but that's not the trouble, we've got an arrangement, but he, there's something wrong with him--"
Slowly, falteringly, the Metatron explained.
"Call the angels," Sandalphon suggested, when the Metatron had finished.
The Call was an ability belonging only to the Metatron, a gift of Most Holy. When he wanted, he could force all the angels to gather. Everyone knew that eventually it would be used for when war was finally declared on the Court. To think of using it so frivolously--
Gray eyes opened wide. "No, I can't. It's too dangerous. I mean, anyone in the infirmary would be called. It just can't--"
Sandalphon smiled at him. "Ask for an exception. Go on. It's your gift, after all. You should be able to narrow it down, exclude one building at least."
"But--"
"Go on," the golden eyed angel said, gently.
The Metatron looked inside, got a go-ahead.
"Okay," he said uncertainly, then suddenly excited, "Okay. Yes. Okay."
Raphael and Gabriel were together in the Administrator's office when they felt the Call.
"He isn't," Gabriel said, disbelieving.
"He is," Raphael said, nodding and smiling slightly.
"The classes--"
They watched teachers leave their classroom and head towards the field in front of the school.
"Come on, G-man," Raphael said softly. "We have to."
It burned inside them, this call, this desperate 'adeste angeli' that thrummed through them, matching rhythms with their heartbeats.
"I'll kill him," Gabriel muttered.
Raphael was already at the door, leaning towards the call like a willful kitten. "He couldn't do it alone, you know. He has to have Permission."
When they got out there, the field was already nearly full. Only with full angels, of course, but when those who taught and those who fought and those who lived in the city were all gathered, it could be impressive.
It /was/ impressive.
And above them, glowing like a star, the Metatron floated, back arched, mouth opened.
Uriel was there. Raphael saw him, standing, gaping, scared.
And the Metatron had seen him too, was flying down, wings stirring up leaves. "Uriel. Step forward." Voice alto, warm.
Uriel didn't, and the Voice frowned, reached out, caressed the angel's cheek. "Who are you?"
"Miniel," Uriel said, a note of panic in his voice. He was clearly trying to step back.
Whispering.
Everything suddenly made much more sense to Raphael. Miniel, as the angel who incited lust in otherwise unwilling people, was able to possess bodies through sexual intercourse. It made perfect sense in a crazy world only, though -- Miniel was faithful. Had always been faithful. Why would he possess Uriel?
"Miniel?" the Metatron asked, clearly thinking along some of the same lines. "Why are you--"
Uriel -- Miniel -- laughed, suddenly. "No. You won't ask me any more questions. You won't."
"--in Uriel's--"
Uriel's hand lashed out and he smashed his hand alongside the Metatron's face. Even channeling the Most Holy, the Metatron's slender body was rocked back by the blow.
Someone in the crowd screamed.
Eyes wide, the Metatron's hand moved up to his cheek. Miniel --Uriel -- was backing off, looking for a way out of the crowd.
And suddenly, unexpectedly, something blazed in the Voice's silver eyes and his hands lashed out, grabbing Uriel's shoulders, manicured nails digging in. "You will give Me Uriel back."
Uriel's mouth fell open.
"NOW," the Metatron -- Most Holy -- hissed, and Uriel was suddenly stumbling, collapsing.
Shaking.
"Koe?" he whispered, shivering.
The Metatron's eyes flashed at the crowd. "Miniel is back in his body. Find him now. And bring him to me."
And only then did he wrap his arms around Uriel, firmly, just holding on, tears seeping from closed eyelids.
Shit, Miniel thought, getting to his feet quickly enough that he got a head rush. Shit shit shit. He had to get out of there.
Key. He fumbled, concentrated, bringing the key to shape in his hand.
And was gone to earth.
He looked around, thought hard. Five months on Earth. Where would Cassiel spend five months? It was always so hard to tell. Raphael loved Japan, Suriel had a fondness for Vienna. Cassiel had never seemed to have a fondness for any--
England.
It /always/ rained in England.
"He's gone to Earth," The Metatron muttered, then raised his eyes at the people remaining. "He's gone to Earth. Somebody's gotta go there and get him. In pairs, in case he possesses someone."
More whispers. Earth was so /big--/
"He's gone after Cassiel," Raphael said, suddenly. "He's going to try to convince Cassiel to open the gates."
Gabriel stared. "Cassiel wouldn't--"
"Miniel's going to try." Raphael threaded his arm through Mikael's. The aqua-haired angel had been watching with everyone else. "Wanna take a trip to England, love?"
The Metatron was ignoring everyone, whispering comfort words into Uriel's hair. "It's all right, it's all right, I've got you, you're here."
"I'm okay," Uriel said faintly, swallowed, and tried again, pushing away. "I'm okay."
The Metatron jerked away at that push as if he'd been burned and they stared at each other for a long moment.
Uriel touched the Metatron's cheek, then tugged the Voice of Most Holy close, kissing him. Just kissing him.
Mikael smiled at Raphael. "England sounds lovely."
Cassiel had always loved finding the roots of things. Research, it always came down to research -- puttering around in castles and churches younger than he was, reading languages that most people had to be scholars to understand.
Miniel found him in Bath, studying the artifacts and carvings found in the healing baths at Aquae Sulis. That was so typically Cassiel that he had to smile.
When he tapped on Cassiel's shoulder, the Angel of Tears blinked up at him as if not recognizing him for a moment, then smiled a muted smile, which was about as close to a brilliant smile as Cassiel would ever get. "Miniel," he whispered. "It's been a long time."
"Too long, Cass," Miniel smiled, sitting beside the other angel as if he wasn't still panicked about what would be coming after him. "I hear you're on your sabbatical. How go your studies?"
Cassiel gestured to the mask that had been found as part of a wall mural, whispering enthusiastically. "Sulis Minervae" they call her, but I wonder if they actually were associating the two goddesses. Oh, sure, the Romans did, and the fact that the mineral baths here were such potent healers were what got it to be called MINERAL water, but the two goddesses were very different types. It makes one ask why exactly the Romans would choose to associate Minerva with this particular goddess..."
Miniel nodded, listened for a while, then smiled and put his hand on Cassiel's shoulder. Cassiel stopped talking at once, and Miniel knew he was remembering the years in school when it had been three three of them -- him, Uriel, and Cassiel. He and Uriel had always tried to drag Cassiel out of his passive shell with the result that Cassiel would actually talk freely with them.
And only them.
"I need a favour, Cass," Miniel said.
"What?"
"My key. I lost it. I need to get home -- can you open the gates? Just for a moment?"
Cassiel stared at him. "Open the gates just because you forgot--"
"It won't hurt anybody," Miniel said, with the air of one who's had to sneak in after hours before. "Just for long enough for me to get through. That wouldn't be a trouble, would it?"
"Actually," Raphael said conversationally from behind them, "that'd be a huge trouble, seeing as you're working for the Morning Star now."
They both turned, and Miniel realized he was trapped, now, really. No way out except --
"Give me your Heaven Key," Raphael said. "You're coming back with us."
Cassiel was shaking his head, shocked. "Miniel isn't... he wouldn't..." But eyes were wide. Believing.
Mikael's lips were tight. "He possessed Uriel. He hit the Metatron, using Uriel's body."
The Angel of Tears looked at Miniel, really looked, and his eyes closed in grief. "I see."
"No, come on," Miniel said, desperately. "We're friends, right? You know I wouldn't -- I mean, me and Uriel, we were always --"
"You were always so jealous of him," Cassiel whispered. "I see those things. That's what I do, Miniel. I see those things."
"Come on, Miniel," Raphael murmured. "It's over. Give up your Heaven Key, come along quietly, and maybe things will be easier on you."
"I'll be punished," Miniel said to Cassiel. "Wherever I go now, I'll be punished. I failed the Morn... I failed Most Holy. Please don't let me be punished. Open the gates, just a little."
"Strike team," Mikael said.
"We got things from Uriel," Raphael said. "You were in his head too long. We know you intended to lead a small team of demons in to attack people, to keep us on our toes though it wouldn't seriously do anything major. Maybe kill a few angels. We can't /allow/ that, Miniel. We've already lost too many people to the damned rebellion. We've lost too much of everything."
"I'm never going back," Miniel said.
"You don't have a choice," Raphael told him.
And Miniel smiled, held up a Court Key, and disappeared.
They stared at the spot he'd been for a moment, and then Raphael sighed, knelt beside Cassiel. "I'm sorry you had to get involved in this, Cassiel. For what it's worth, the Metatron's revoked his Heaven Key. He won't be coming back to--"
"Is Uriel okay?" Cassiel murmured, staring blankly at the wall.
Mikael nodded, quickly. "He... he seems fine. A bit shaken, but--"
"Do you want to come back with us?" Raphael asked. "You know, come home. Just to--"
"No," Cassiel whispered. "Leave me alone. Please, leave me alone with my ancient history."
Raphael looked helplessly at Mikael, who reached out and took his hand. Shaking his head.
"I'll give Uriel your regards, shall I?" Raphael asked hopelessly.
"Sure."
"Well then," Mikael said. "I'm sure I'll see you again."
"Of course."
"Goodbye, then."
Cassiel stared at the engraving on the wall for a long time, then sighed, wipes his eyes, and began studying the tools the Romans had used, so many years ago.
Gabriel was handling the last that needed to be dealt with in this incident. He had sent Uriel and the Metatron back to the Tower with a glare.
"I'm sorry," Uriel said, stroking the Metatron's cheek. "I'm so sorry. I tried to stop him. I could hear what he was doing. I'm sorry."
"I love you," the Metatron said, trying to find a way to explain that it was alright He couldn't. Other words came out instead, pointless words that didn't explain anything. "I was so scared. I'm so glad you're okay."
"Yeah," Uriel said, maybe understanding.
"I love you," the Metatron explained again.
"Yeah."
They stared at each other for a long, frantically scared moment, then leaned together at almost the same time.
Lips met, meshed.
Kissed the last day away.