Lower Tadfield Safehouse

Michael scowled deeply and looked around. The Nerd wasn't in sight range, at least. "That was a great sword. He lost it. And you're a sword-having nerd. There's a huge difference."

His fists clenched. "Apocalypse-stopping, sword-losing, book-reading Nerd."

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Gabriel sighed exasperatedly. "Leave him alone, Michael. It was a mistake committed millennia ago, and I doubt he feels any happier about it."

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"Why is he even here?" Michael asked Gabriel, "He seems tainted. Very demonic. Maybe he's defecting."

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"Beelzebub is after him, apparently," Gabriel replied. "But he can do nothing on neutral ground, so Aziraphael is safe as long as he stays here. And he apparently spends time with a demonic companion, that lesser demon who helped thwart the Apocalypse. I suppose that's why his aura is tainted. It does worry me too. I assure you, he is not defecting."

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Michael grinned, glancing over at where the Nerd was hidden. "Ah."

Awesome. This was just going to be awesome.

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Aziraphale got a very strong sense that it was time for him to run. However, a quick glance around a bookshelf revealed that Michael was blocking the exit to the library.

He placed down the book he had grabbed and started inching his way to the door. If worse came to worse he could always jump out.

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Michael strode across the library, grabbing Aziraphael by the sweater vest.

"Hi," he said.

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"Er," said Aziraphale, feeling rather like a deer in front of the Bentley, "Hello."

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"Heard you're being stalked by a demon. Bet you wish you still had that sword, huh? What if I told you I could give you another one..."

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"Er. That sounds very... nice."

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Michael started to drag Aziraphael out, practically beaming. "Awesome! We'll start training as soon as possible! I suggest wearing something more comfortable. And if you lose this sword I'm going to have you Felled, not demoted this time."

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"Michael. Put him down."

Gabriel was standing in front of the door, arms folded. "First of all, it is not up to you to make decisions like that, and losing a sword is hardly a Fellable offence. And second, why don't you ask him what he wants?"

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Michael gaped at Gabriel. "It is too up to me to make decisions like that, thank you very much." He was never very comfortable reminding his fellow Archangels of his rank, but sometimes, when they did things like this... "Aziraphael is a Member of the Host whether he has a sword or not, as he never resigned that position and he is still on Earth which means he needs to be able to defend himself from demons. If he again loses his sword he's indicating that he has no care for his Duty and so would either lose his status in the Host and have to go back to live in Heaven, or he could just Fall and save us the bother of finding him a new job."

He glanced at the blushing Principality. "As for him, considering how long he's spent on this ball of rock, I'd rather think being able to defend himself is far better than spending eternity in Heaven, spending eternity in Hell, or getting eaten by Beelzebub."

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Oh dear.

It was fairly common knowledge that Michael was smitten with Gabriel. Anyone with eyes could see it, especially considering Michael's own eyes were incredibly expressive. Hence Aziraphale found it quite shocking that Michael would be so... brazen with Gabriel.

However, it was also fairly common knowledge that Gabriel did not return Michael's affections. Maybe that was why Michael was a bit snippy?

Regardless, Aziraphale cleared his throat and loudly interjected, "I must agree that I would prefer to be able to defend myself. I promise I can take care of my new flaming sword much better now, knowing what I know about the problems of losing it." Plus he doubted there would be any persons in desperate need of a flaming sword, so long as he stayed out of any third-world countries. "It would be nice to be proactive for a change."

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"Awesome," said Michael. "See Gabriel? No harm no foul. You can come train too if you want. I bet Nerd's got a lot of catching up to do."

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"As far as I know, Felling is Uriel's job," Gabriel responded. "Although his being able to defend himself does sound like a good idea. And he has a name. You should probably check with Sister Mary as to where you can train, I doubt she'd be very happy if we damaged the garden."

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misterbkeele.livejournal.com

Behind Gabriel, a dark-haired man had appeared in the corridor, eyebrows raised. The shoulders of Barnaby's grey coat were damp, as was the top of his head. Barnaby had gone indoors from a walk, intending to explore the manor's facilities further, starting with the library. He couldn't actually see who it was arguing with the Messenger, but from the aura, he could hazard a good guess.

"Perhaps this is a bad time," he murmured.

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Michael's own eyebrows shot up. There was definitely a demon and it was close by - wait was someone behind Gabriel?!

He grabbed Gabriel and pulled him out of the way, all too fast for the other angel to react, planting himself firmly between the demon and his two angelic companions. "Hi," he said, looking this one over. Nothing compared to Michael, wouldn't give Gabriel a hard time, roughly equal to the Nerd, although he was masking his presence so it was a little bit harder to tell.

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Crowley could usually hear his thoughts if he sort of directed them at him. Perhaps Barnaby could too.

If something goes wrong, I'll get him in a chokehold so you can run.

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misterbkeele.livejournal.com

There was a sense of suddenly being very much out of his depth, rather like the moment before falling through an open manhole. Not that Barnaby had ever done that ~~a second time~~.

"Good day to you, Field Commander," he said neutrally, ignoring the now-familiar instinct to flee. He thought for a moment that he heard someone, but before he could make it out it was gone.

"Was there a convention planned in the library?" He indicated the other two behind Michael, both of whom looked decidedly harassed. "I must have missed the memo."

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