Changes in Attitude pt 1

One - Demon Hunt



Earth, circa 2002:



“You will halt, Demon Lord Dubric!” The Angel Warrior Mihdael closed the gap separating him and his quarry with ease.

Dubric glanced back, his human eyes widening in fear and loathing at his pursuer. An overhead door loomed in the distance, and Dubric doubled his speed. He sent out a mental command, urgent and demanding, to his servant. ~Belloc! The door! Open it! ~

Assuming his order would be carried out, Dubric looked back over his shoulder; he calculated he had just enough time to reach the door ahead of his pursuer. Once outside, he would find a crowd of people and elude his hated opponent.

Mihdael restrained the impulse to revert to his Angelic form and power. His human form held his angel energies competently enough, but there were restrictions. The creaking ratcheting of the large door caught his attention; he couldn’t allow Dubric to escape the confines of the warehouse.

The overhead door rose slowly, a few feet at a time. Confident of his escape, Dubric sent a look of triumph over his shoulder. A belated look of triumph…

Too late, he saw his servant--safely concealed in the shadows--dangling as a useless counter-weight on the rope that opened the door.

Too late, he saw the door had opened about five and a half feet.

Too late, he realized the human body he possessed was five-foot-ten…

Mihdael pulled up short, wincing as the demon ran full force into the lower edge of the metal door.

Dubric rebounded from the impact and staggered a few feet. Barely conscious, Dubric saw the armed warrior and quickly separated from the human host. In spirit form, he thought he had a chance.

He thought wrong.

Two swings of the sword ended his existence before his human host had dropped unconscious to the floor.

Mihdael then turned his attention to the lesser entity in the warehouse. Although somewhat diminished in his human form, the warrior’s well-honed senses still remained sharp enough to ferret out the jangled wavelengths of a minion in concealment. Releasing the rope, the small being thudded to the floor; the door slammed down, the metal edging hitting the concrete floor with a jarring clang. With unnatural stealth and guile, something skittered across the floor several feet from him, on his right, in the overlapping shadows cast by the towering crates and boxes. The minion/demon chose to maintain its natural state, rather than possessing some luckless human who had either intentionally or inadvertently invited it in.

The Angel Warrior retained his human form after the demon Dubric separated from its mortal host, as the human might regain consciousness at any time, and it would not be wise for him to see an Angel Warrior going toe-to-talon with a demon. Mihdael glanced back at Dubric’s quartered form; it sizzled and smoked, fading away into nothingness. The human was still unaware, and the warrior knew he had a limited amount of time to find the second minion/demon, dispense with it, and return to Heaven before the mortal regained his senses.

The human host that Dubric had claimed worked as the night watchman at a warehouse that belonged to a company that supplied various products to places called “Unique Boutiques”, according to the labels on the cartons and crates. Items ranging from cheap plastic knickknacks, to children’s toys and games, to moderate quality statues and figurines, to reproduction arms and armor, and various other products that were unmarked and held in storage bins. It was from a box containing “The Black Dynasty Ninja Sword” that Mihdael had found the four foot Katana that had scattered Dubric’s pieces over the concrete floor, and still glistened with the demon’s green blood.

Renewed sounds of faint scampering came from the rows of crates resting on wood platforms; large, heavy crates stacked one atop the other and reaching nearly to the ceiling. Even in human form and with human aspects, Mihdael still had access to AngelFire. He sent the AngelFire around the interior warehouse walls, floor, and ceiling, preventing the escape of any spirit-formed force or being. The AngelFire contracted like a glowing net; whatever remained in the warehouse would be forced into a smaller area. Mihdael wasn’t in the mood to run down some fleeing demon or minion through acres of warehouse, whether he had the time or not.

“Show yourself, creature of Darkness. You cannot escape the Light of God.”

The AngelFire had ‘herded’ the entity into a twelve-foot area containing a large, vat-type bin, and two rows of stacked boxes on either side of it. He heard the light skittering of small talons on the concrete floor, as the minion darted behind a fairly large crate next to the towering vat. Uncertain of the minion’s size or intellect, Mihdael advanced cautiously. He pulled the AngelFire ‘net’ in with him as he moved forward, into a smaller and smaller enclosure, preventing the minion from cutting around him and scampering off.

The scrape of talons on concrete changed to talons on metal. The warrior groaned, seeing a dark form scurrying up the metal steps on the circular bin. “Do not force me to pursue you, demon; I will not be pleased when I catch up with you.” His voice was more exasperated than demanding, and the scurrying increased in both speed and determination.

“Blast.” He disliked stairs and ladders; both were a waste of time and effort and worked against gravity.

Moonlight filtered dimly through the narrow, gray-grimed windows set in the eaves, adding little in the way of illumination to the dim interior lighting. He could see clearly enough, though; his Angelic senses enabled him to see in pitch dark, so he had no problem sighting his quarry.

The narrow, metal stairway angled diagonally along the curve of the vat, a small landing near the top, with one or two more steps ending at the huge opening. Something dark and round cowered on the landing. Mihdael held the Katana tightly; he would not be taken unawares, or fooled by a diminutive size. And he found, cringing back in an even smaller corner, a minion that was remarkably small, remarkably ugly, and remarkably round.

***

Forced to flee upward by his pursuer, the creature known in his own dimension as Belloc gazed up at the huge Human-Angel towering over him; but then, most beings towered over him. This one, however, was not only very big, he also held a large sword--without the customary flames, but still deadly. The Angel’s expression was one he had long ago learned to either mollify or run like hell. Neither option was available to him at the moment.

“I warned you, minion,” Annoyed, rather than angry, blue eyes glared down at him. “Now, you will--”

Belloc saw his opening, literally: approximately three body widths and two body heights. The Human-Angel had braced each large foot at either edge of the metal step, and had leaned forward slightly as he spoke, the bright, sharp blade hovering over him. With a speed and agility startling for his bulkiness, Belloc charged through the Human-Angel’s long legs and scampered down the stairs. He had made, however, a slight miscalculation. His rotund body had a tendency to waddle from side to side as he moved, and he had bumped into one of the Human-Angel’s legs with enough force to upset his balance. Belloc practically rolled down the stairs, moving frantically to maintain his marginal lead ahead of the tumbling Human-Angel. Ten or twelve steps from the bottom, his long, tentacle-like fingers wrapped tightly around the metal railing and he swung easily down to the floor.

The Human-Angel, however, continued his gravity-assisted descent, landing on the concrete floor with an audible, bone-cracking snap that made Belloc wince. The AngelFire that had kept him within close confines faded away, and Belloc eagerly headed for the main door. His tiny scurrying feet slowed, then halted; he looked back at the large Human-Angel, indecisive. If he went back to his own dimension without his master, Dubric, he would probably be put to death for not defending said master. If, however, he could bring back the being responsible for Dubric’s untimely demise, and especially since that being was an Angel--why, then, he would have accomplished what not even the most powerful demon in his dimension had ever done: Captured an Angel.

He edged back carefully, ready to flee if the Human-Angel so much as breathed too loud. He paused again, well beyond the Human-Angel’s reach. There was no movement, no sound, no reaction at all. Belloc crept forward a foot at a time, which for him meant about four inches at a time. His knuckles, hardly more than small ridges, dragged the floor on either side of him, the tendril-fingers curling and uncurling nervously.

One powerful, muscled arm was flung out from the Human-Angel’s side, hand still holding tightly to the gleaming sword. Belloc’s long, skinny arm reached out hesitantly; the thin tentacles wrapped around the narrow guard, and he tugged. The unconscious grip held, and Belloc tugged harder. It didn’t budge. Sighing, Belloc tried to pry the large fingers loose; that didn’t work, either. How strong was this being, anyway? Thinking for a moment, Belloc very delicately, and carefully, brushed thin tendrils over the back of the gripping hand producing a sensation much like a roach or an ant crawling over skin. The hand jerked instinctively to toss off the irritating ‘insect’, loosening enough for Belloc to pull the sword free.

Jumping back, and clutching the heavy sword to his chest, he watched to see if the Human-Angel would wake up. The sword was too big and heavy for him to use, so he dragged it over to a stack of large crates. The crates were loaded on a wooden platform with just enough floor clearance to slide the sword under and out of sight. It then occurred to him that if he had difficulty carrying the sword, how would he manage to carry or drag the Human-Angel back to his dimension? It would probably be best just to escape while he could, and figure out what to do later. Except, he knew the Human-Angel would hunt him down no matter where he went--unless he was too badly injured to pursue him.

There had been no response of any kind, other than the shaking off the ‘insect’, which indicated that the Human-Angel was still alive, since he had struck the hard floor with such a frightening sound. Propped against the wall near the huge vat was a low metal platform with wheels, obviously used for moving heavy objects. If he could get the Human-Angel onto that, it would be easier to move him. But he had to be certain that the Human-Angel would not awaken during the transfer.

Belloc picked up a broken stick half his height, and crept closer, stopping about an arm’s length away. His troll-like features faded from curiosity to aversion; icky red blood streamed down on one side of the Human-Angel’s face. Belloc could never get used to such a gaudy color; blood should be green. The Human-Angel lay on his back, and Belloc poked him tentatively in the ribs. When nothing happened, he jabbed the stick harder into the Human-Angel’s side, just below the ribs. If there was no response this time, Belloc decided he would try to drag the Human-Angel onto the wheeled platform, and then get his captive back to his own dimension.

He wasn’t that lucky. A large hand gripped the end of the stick, and an unsteady voice growled, “…Stop that… or I will shove this up your--” He broke off with a groan, the other hand going to his bloodied temple. He had started to sit up, but the pain stopped him and he fell back on the floor. Hard. And he said a few words that Belloc hadn’t thought Angels knew.

Belloc decided that this Human-Angel wasn’t very bright.

But he had lightning fast reflexes. Releasing the stick, strong fingers closed on his thin arm. So much for dragging him back to his demon dimension.

AngelFire sparkled, healing the wound and cleaning the blood away. The Human-Angel sat up, more carefully this time, and looked at him. “What did you do with the sword?”

“Hid it.” Belloc spoke with a deeply pleasant voice, almost melodious, and a startling contrast to his appearance.

“Why did you not slay me with it?”

“I am not, by nature, an aggressive being. I simply wanted to prevent you from slaying me.”

“I can still do so, without a sword.”

“Quite so.” Belloc nodded, resigned to his fate. “I ask only that you be quick about it.”

The Human-Angel looked at him for a few moments, and then released his arm. The AngelFire reappeared, surrounding them. “If you were not going to kill me, and you did not choose to escape, then what were you planning?”

Belloc couldn’t understand why this Human-Angel didn’t just destroy him and get it over with. From what he had been told by the other demons, and from his own personal experience, he knew Angels killed demons on sight. Sometimes Angels even tortured the poor demons, for sport or amusement; perhaps this one considered interrogation as torture. “I had thought to take you back with me to my home.”

The large frame shook slightly with subdued laughter. “Why?!”

Definitely torture-for-amusement with this one. “I will be held responsible for not defending my master, for not sacrificing myself to enable his escape.” He sighed heavily, looking down at where his feet would be, if he could have seen past the extended potbelly. “If I returned with the Angel who killed him, I might have escaped destruction.”

“I have no intention of returning with you.”

Belloc gave him a raised-brow look. His estimation of this Angel’s intellect kept escalating up and down. At the moment, it was descending… again.

“However,” the Human-Angel continued, frowning a bit, “I have no reason to kill you, as you are not a threat to me. What are your intentions toward humankind?”

“None, I assure you. They are all clumsy, and ridiculous to look upon and listen to. I was bound to the Demon Dubric, and had to carry out his orders.” Although, truthfully, this had been his first intrusion into the human dimension, and he had dealt with only a few man-humans. That had been quite enough, however.

“Very well, then. You cannot remain here--”

“I cannot return home.”

Big, mahogany brown eyes gazed up at him, even though he was still seated. The minion could not stay on Earth, and would not return to his own dimension. Heaven was not even a consideration; Michael would quarter the little guy in less time than it took to say it. “What is your name, minion?”

“I am not a minion. My name is Belloc.”

“Are you a demon?”

“Not exactly,” Belloc shrugged. “Since I refuse to do, um, certain things, the others would not confer the title of demon upon me. But I am smarter than a minion, and I know the difference between right and wrong as applies to the individual.”

“And do you know the difference between right and wrong as applies to God’s Word?”

The Angel did not seem angry or ‘preachy’, just curious. “Other demons have told me of God, of how He destroys those who disagree with Him. How Heaven is a horribly restrictive prison for all that live there; how… how Michael,” and he spoke the name with quiet dread, “who exists only to slaughter demons, who gives neither mercy nor quarter, who is cruel and contemptuous and egotistical; and it not being enough that he should obliterate demon kind, but trains other Angels to do so as well, to torture them endlessly, without mercy--”

“We do not torture demons,” Mihdael interrupted, somewhat miffed. “When it is necessary to destroy demons, their destruction is painless--”

“How do you know?”

“Know what?’

“That their destruction is painless? Do you feel, or experience, their death?”

“No, but God has told me that it is painless for them. Their injuries or wounds can be painful for them, but the actual point of death is not. They simply cease to be.” Mihdael got to his feet, knowing it was past the time that he should have returned to Heaven. But he wasn’t sure what to do with this little creature. “If you will not return to your own dimension, then you must find another dimension.”

“It appears I have little choice in the matter.”

Mihdael nodded. “I must return to Heaven; you are to leave here as well.”

The Angel Warrior watched as Belloc’s image wavered and faded from sight. Then Michael’s Second-in-Command also vanished from the Earthly plane.





Two – God Deliberates



Mihdael had no sooner materialized in an open field outside of Eden, when another manifestation appeared next to him. And if Belloc had appeared small to him in his human form, as Angel the being was almost miniscule. “You are not to be here! What are you thinking?!”

“You were kind to me, and did not slay me when I feared you would. So, I now seek your protection, Man-Angel; and ask that you help me find a place where I can live in peace.” Belloc looked around apprehensively, as if expecting to be pounced upon by an army of Angel warriors.

“You must come with me, then; we will go before God, and--”

The creature actually wrapped its arms around his leg. “No! God will slay me!”

“I will slay you, if you do not stand away from me.” Belloc reluctantly let go, but remained near him. “God will not destroy you, for I will accept your request and place you under my protection while you are here. That is,” he added, giving the semi-demon a stern look, “if you agree to some conditions.”

“What are your conditions?”

“You are to do as I say, and not wander about on your own.”

“I am accustomed to obedience; and I am not overly curious about this terrible place.”

“You are to speak truthfully at all times, and keep your word when given.”

“That will be a nice change. I will do that.”

“You are not to interact with the Heavenly Host.”

“No problem.”

“And,” he finished, “there is no need to… mention to anyone else how you eluded me, or how I was disarmed.”

“Then, great and brave Man-Angel, how would I comply with your second condition?”

Mihdael smiled tightly. “By obeying the third condition.”



II



God gazed down at Archangel Michael’s Second-in-Command and the tiny creature standing next to him. State thy petition, Mihdael.

Mihdael knelt, and Belloc followed suit. “I request fair and due consideration on the deportment of this being who is named Belloc, Father. He has, it is so, followed the ways and orders of Evil, but he is not Evil of himself.”

Belloc, approach the Throne.

At Mihdael’s nod, Belloc rose, and cautiously obeyed, pulling himself up the marble steps.

Mihdael is correct. I perceive no true Evil intent within thy being. Thou art neither demon nor minion; therefore, thee will be re-classified. I shall think upon it further, and decide upon thy new classification.

Until that time, thee may stay in the Woodland next to Eden.

I shall summon thee when I have decided.

Meantime, I suggest thee stay out of Michael’s sight.





Three – Michael Suspects



Michael--Archangel of the Presence, Prince of Light, the most powerful created being in the Universe--soared in a wide arc over the domes and spires of the golden city of Heaven. He had just vanquished a horde of demons, destroyed the demon stronghold, repaired all the destruction caused by the demon rampage, and hadn’t so much as broken a sweat with the effort.

And now, he was somewhat bored.

Calm, peaceful streets stretched in all directions below him, radiating from the central temple that housed the Throne of God. A multitude of Angels from all Choirs flew about, on various missions, performing various tasks. The ever-present songs of praise and worship from the Cherubim Class flowed harmoniously through all of it, blending with the prayers of the faithful. Heaven was his home, his sanctuary, and his reason for being; that is, he had long thought that Heaven was his sole reason for being. He had recently discovered that there were other reasons for living as well. It was not reasonable, but it was very enlightening--and never boring.

He flew a languid, low-level pattern from one end of Heaven to the other: a relaxing flight, and a general overview. As the Archangel angled back over a remote corner of Eden, his sharp senses alerted him to the presence of… something…

The emerald wings reflected the golden tones of Heaven’s sky as he trimmed them, slowing his flight. He hovered, trying to pinpoint the aberration; it was very weak, and seemed to be near the Woodland. He sensed another presence as well. His Second-in-Command was almost directly below him, on the ground.

‘Mihdael, you will attend me.’ He sent the summons out, and the Warrior appeared immediately.

“Yes, Commander?” The young Warrior didn’t hover, but very gradually moved away from the Woodland area. Michael followed, unaware that his lieutenant intentionally drew him away from the forested area below them.

“Have you noted anything out of the ordinary in this general vicinity?”

“In… what way, Commander?”

“I am not certain. It is very vague, but noticeable to my senses. It seems, well, almost demonic in nature.”

“Demonic, Commander? Here, in Heaven?” Mihdael did his utmost to maintain an innocent expression.

“Unlikely, I agree, but not impossible. The impression is not very strong, and it fluctuates--very unusual. I have determined that whatever is causing this disturbance is in or near the Woodland below us.”

He glanced down, to find they were no longer above the wooded area. He had followed Mihdael’s slow, but steady, flight path away from the small forest, and toward the mountains. He halted, forcing Mihdael to halt as well. “Is there a reason why you have drawn me away from the Woodland?”

Before Mihdael could answer, an all-encompassing Voice interrupted.

Michael, thee will attend Me.

Michael glanced at his Second. “There is something unusual in the Woodland. Investigate, and if you discover anything out of the ordinary, do as you think best and report to me immediately.”

“Yes, Commander.” Mihdael vanished before Michael could think of anything else to question him about.

The Archangel appeared before God, and knelt. “I am here, My Lord God.”

Michael, I have perceived a rift in the Time Continuum along the Coltrane Galaxy. Thee will investigate, and repair any discrepancies.

Archangel Raphael stood near the Throne as Michael rose, belatedly acknowledging the Healer with a short nod. “I will do so immediately, Father.” And he vanished.

Raphael looked in askance at his Creator. “What are you playing at, Old Man? There is naught amiss at the Coltrane Galaxy.”

There is now.

Raphael smiled openly. He, like all the rest of the Heavenly Hosts, knew of his Father's sense of humor. But unlike the rest of Heaven, he usually understood it. “Nothing serious, I trust.”

The Coltrane Galaxy was located at the Outer Rim at a point furthest from Heaven’s Central Axis.

No, nothing serious. It will be just enough to occupy Michael until I have set the stage.

The Healer smiled, and then ventured cautiously, “You did not inform Michael of the arrival of… that small creature; although it is quite obvious he senses its presence.”

I am most interested to know if My Defender is simply a well-trained killing machine, or if he will restrain his natural impulses and be willing to listen to the voice of reason.

Raphael laughed quietly. “The voice of… ‘reason’, Father? I have not heard her called that lately.”

If nothing else, this exercise will prove to be at the very least quite entertaining.





Four – Shoeless Joe Angel



Aleilah, Guardian Angel in her normal duties and erstwhile citizen of Earth, flew happily over the fragrant, flowering meadows of Eden. The distant sound of the waterfall caught her attention, and she banked, flew toward it. The cool, crystal blue water looked so soothing, so inviting… She landed and stepped under the towering falls. Tons of water crashed over her, and she opened her arms to it, head back, eyes closed. The curtain of water spilled over her upraised wings, flowing down the arches and feathers in thin sheets. She found it invigorating, and remained under the deluge for quite some time, enjoying the rush of currents foaming and whirling around her legs.

In the nearby woodland, within earshot, Mihdael “unwrapped” Belloc from the blanket of protective AngelFire. It had obscured the creature’s essence enough to conceal him from Michael’s surface scan. It would not, however, hold up under a more intensive search. So Mihdael followed his Commander’s orders and dealt with the situation as he saw fit. He would give Michael a detailed report perhaps a century or so later.

Dispensing with the AngelFire camouflage, he gave Belloc strict instructions. “This is the Woodland near Eden that God spoke of. You are to stay within its boundaries at all times.”

Belloc looked around, wide-eyed. “Never have I seen so many plants, and trees, and-- ” He broke off, catching sight of the waterfall that sublimated all sound in the Woodland. “Falling water!”

Before Mihdael could prevent it, the little creature scurried off in the direction of the Falls of Eden. The warrior smiled to himself; he could hardly blame the little guy. Eden’s waterfall was an awesome sight to behold, and one of his favorite places outside of Heaven. His smile faded a bit, however, when he saw the shapely figure in the mists. He looked around frantically for Belloc, for it was times like this that Archangel Michael was rarely far away.

The Warrior finally sighted Belloc standing atop a tall boulder. It must have been quite an effort for him to climb up to the top. His long, skinny arms rested at his sides, the thin, finger-like tendrils uncurled, reaching past his tiny feet on either side of the boulder. He remained very still, very quiet, and studiously intent. Mihdael followed Belloc’s line of vision, to a vision, so to speak.

Aleilah walked serenely from the falls, her wings wet and matted, her long hair clinging to her shoulders and back, the white tunic a glistening, second skin. Reaching the riverbank, her water-laden wings fluttered briefly, just enough to get her on dry land. Her bare feet touched the soft dirt, and she stood, wings arcing upward. She shook them vigorously, just as the warrior had shown her several centuries ago. The sun glistened on her smooth, perfect skin; water droplets from her wings coursed slowly down her shoulders, branching out into thin, sparkling rivulets over the full, up-lifted swell of her bosom. And if Mihdael had been a living creature of bone and flesh and oxygenated blood, he would have completely forgotten how to exhale, or inhale.

He physically tore his gaze from her and said quietly to Belloc, “We should leave.” Yet, he made no move to follow his own advice.

Belloc’s eyes traveled up, then down, and then up again. He spoke in a quiet, awed tone. “Such a beautiful Man-Angel. His chest is not flat and strong and broad as yours is… it appears… malleable… and soft…” Belloc blinked at the sight. “He is so small and thin, but so pretty!”

AngelFire flowed up Aleilah’s form, from toe to head, drying her completely. Her face bore the exact same expression--one of utter delight--as that of an actress Mihdael had seen in an Earthly movie once. A shapely blonde woman had been caught unawares by an exhaust fan blowing up her skirt on a city sidewalk. To his carefully concealed dismay, Aleilah smoothed out the now dried white tunic, and began untangling her long, raven black hair with a comb formed from AngelFire. She obviously intended to stay for a time.

Mihdael nudged Belloc, “We should leave. Michael might be near by, and--”

He had hardly said the Archangel’s name when Belloc jumped from the boulder, and hid under the protective cover of Mihdael’s wings. “He--the Archangel--is here?” He asked fearfully.

Mihdael decided if Michael hadn’t made his presence known by now then he wasn’t within the environs of Eden. “No… but he is rarely far from Aleilah.”

Belloc chanced a quick look around, and then approached closer to Aleilah under cover of the low bushes. “Such a pretty Man-Angel…”

She glanced up then, and seeing Mihdael, smiled warmly. The warrior acknowledged her greeting, but didn’t approach. Belloc looked up at him.

“He has no shoes. Why do all the other Angels have shoes, yet the pretty Man-Angel has none?”

He started to reply, and explain that she wasn’t a ‘Man-Angel’, when Aleilah moved toward to him. He backed up, not wanting her to see an upsetting thing like Belloc in Eden. If she did, he assumed she would do the girlish thing and start screaming or something. And one distressed yelp from Aleilah would bring Michael to her side in less than an instant. “Belloc, we are leaving.”

Belloc, entranced by the pretty Man-Angel, made no move to hide as she approached them. Her vivid violet eyes glanced down…

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening in shock…

Mihdael groaned, waiting for the piercing, female scream that would bring a quick reprisal and weeks of endless lectures about consorting with the enemy.

She froze, raised her other hand, pointed, and…

Giggled.

“Oh, Mihdael, what is that?!? He is adorable!”

Belloc smiled, with his wide, thin lips. He bowed low, his outstretched arm thrown back like a French nobleman. Mihdael cocked an eyebrow at the gesture, so oddly cordial for a minion.

"My name is Belloc, pretty Man-Angel. I am new to Heaven."

Aleilah looked at Mihdael, still smiling, and mouthed the words 'Man-Angel'? He raised a hand and shook his head, forestalling a verbal question. Belloc straightened and looked her up and down again.

"How do you do, Monsieur Belloc?" She curtsied, returning the ancient Earth custom with absolute delight. "My name is Aleilah. I am a Guardian Angel, and sometimes Counselor."

Belloc tilted his squatty head. "'Sometimes Counselor', Man-Angel?"

She frowned, and spoke to Mihdael mentally. ~Why does he keep calling me that?~

Mihdael begin to regret his idea, and answered her with a private reply. ~He does not yet know there is a female Angel in Heaven. Please, Leea, just go with it.~

She shook her head, amused, and looked back at Belloc. Who was still smiling at her, and staring at her cute, curvy form.

"Yes, Belloc, Counselor. It is the settling of arguments and the mediating of disputes."

"Ahhhhh," said the former near-minion, smiling wryly. "There is such a thing where I come from as well. We call it fighting to the death," he finished, grinning at his own joke.

Aleilah started laughing so hard, that she had to bend over and place her palms on her thighs to stop herself from falling down. Although smiling as well, Mihdael tried in vain to shush her. Any grand display of her emotions, even a hearty laugh, would result in Michael flying to her side.

“Aleilah, please… shhh…” He frantically motioned for her to stop.

She straightened, and wiped a tear away from her eye. "Cute, funny, and smart! Where did you find him, Mihdael?"

Now Belloc looked up at her with complete adoration.

Mihdael shook his head. "Never mind that. We must keep him out of Mi--"

"Never mind that? Excuse me?" She gave him a look of haughty speculation. "That sounds as if there is a story behind your meeting. One that you do not want to get out."

"Oh, but there is, pretty Man-Angel. This grand warrior, you see, was trying to slay me on Earth, and he nearly caught me. If he had, pretty Man-Angel," Belloc continued smoothly as Mihdael shook his head, "I would not be here to meet you this day. But instead, his own immense size enabled me to--”

"That is enough!" Belloc shut up at Mihdael's thunderous yell. Aleilah simply bit her lower lip and tried not to embarrass the grand warrior further with her infamous snickering. “I encountered Belloc while pursuing a demon on Earth. I destroyed the demon, and, as I ascertained that Belloc was no threat to Mankind, I ordered him to return to another dimension.

“He vanished, and I thought he had left; however, upon my arrival in Heaven, I found that Belloc had followed me here.

“I took him before God, and was told to watch over him until God decided on his re-classification.”

She nodded, the teasing light in her eyes almost too much for him to bear. "Uh huh… And when do I get to hear his version of it?"

Mihdael bit the inside of his cheek. "You do not. Now, as I was saying," he narrowed his eyes at Aleilah, "we must keep him out of Michael's sight."

As the warrior continued to explain Belloc's presence in Heaven and what they must do to keep Michael away from him, they both failed to notice him inching closer to Aleilah. Before either of them could do anything to prevent it, he had a hand on her tunic hem and lifted her skirt, purely out of curiosity.

"Gahh!" Aleilah yelped and flew back a few feet, frightened but still laughing.

Lightening-quick, Mihdael grabbed the little squashy near-minion, frowned at her for her lapse in control, and they disappeared in a brilliant gold-white light.

She snickered, knowing what was to come. Not a nanosecond later, and Michael appeared right in front of her, taking her by the shoulders and looking her over for damage.

“Aleilah, are you all right?” His face, normally set in stone and hard to read, bore the expression of worry, confusion and relief, all at once.

She laughed, her face full of mirth and joy, and placed a delicate hand to his cheek. "Yes, I am fine, my warrior. Mihdael startled me with a… uh… a surprise!"

Michael narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "He startled you?" The Archangel retorted, looking around for his brother. He had already sensed his Lieutenant’s fading aura, as well as a faint residue of… something foreign to Eden. "I felt your 'startle', all the way to the Coltrane Galaxy! Did he do this 'startling' as you bathed in the waterfall? I should go find him, and –” He moved away from her, as if to fly off.

Aleilah tugged on his strong, emerald wing playfully. "No, Michael, stay here!" She laughed, smiling warmly and pulling him closer. "With me. You have been sparring again, have you not?" She winced, brushing leaves and pulling twigs from some foreign planet out of his hair and his armor. She could always trust Michael to find someone, or something, to battle, regardless of his location. "You are a bit out of sorts, and quite a dusty mess. Care to join me, Angel…?" She eyed him with intent.

Michael lost all trace of malice, a faint gleam flashing in his eyes. Just before he lunged for her, she vanished from his sight and re-appeared under the falls, her teasing laughter an irresistible invitation.



CONTINUED: "Changes in Attitude pt 2"