Angel's Decree

A/N: Hello. Hopefully you all are enjoying the fic. If not, then please let me know, good or bad. Feedback is nice. One or two words is fine. It matters. It really does.

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Tess lay in her bed, dreaming of song. She saw herself in the mother of all choirs, surrounded by golden arches and clouds as breezy as water drifting past. She was singing God’s praises and feeling the joy fill her up so that she was overflowing with His grace. The dream put a smile on her face and she opened her eyes to see a man standing by her bedside, wearing a trench coat and a fedora.

She would have screamed at this new stranger’s presence in her room, but oddly, she recognized his pleasant brown face almost instantly.

“Sam?”

He nodded. “Hello, Tess. I didn’t wish to wake you. You were having a decidedly good dream, I presume.”

Tess was too stunned to speak. Where was she? Why was she here in a bed? On earth?

“You don’t recall where you are, do you?” Sam’s smooth words soothed Tess and she sat up and regarded him.

“Well, I ain’t in Kansas. That’s for sure.” She shivered, a tingling sensation traversing through her, and brushed herself off, as if brushing away the remaining traces of mortality. “How did I get here?”

“These are always the hardest transitions, from angel to human and back again. We bruise so easily in our human forms. I think that’s why He does it. So we can see how fallible we are. Knock us down a peg or two, if you will.”

“How long have I been in this form?” Tess stood and walked around the room, fondling the curtains, then the windowsill. It was if she’d never seen these items before.

Sam exhaled, calculating time in his head. “A little over two years, and you have done very well under the circumstances. To be human is a great gift and also a great curse. I wouldn’t wish it on any angel – but such is thus. At any rate, you have completed your time successfully, Tess. It can’t have been easy.”

Tess looked into his brown eyes as realization washed over her. It had been two years, but it had seemed like an eternity even while two Earth years to an angel was like a drop in the bucket compared to the centuries spent in and out of heaven. The two years, however, had been made to feel like a lifetime of experiences that Tess could scarcely recall. It was sketchy at best. She’d had vague memories of a young adulthood, but no childhood. She’d sort of remembered a father figure, but that was a false memory, obviously – merely something put in her head to make the experience that much more authentic. Then, she’d recalled a sort of beginning in the music industry, which lead to her becoming a performer and a successful jazz chanteuse.

Sam explained to her, without words, that every hundred years or so, an angel who works closely with humans, is sent to Earth to live as one so as not to forget what it is they’re dealing with. While some angels view it as a sort of gift, many angels treat it as a punishment for something they have done wrong. It can be treacherous in some cases and in some cases, it is over and done with in a snap because most angels live as they would if they were still perched on the right shoulder of God himself, pure and holy – a difficult feat in human form.

“And some angels never come back from it.” Sam said matter-of-factly. “You remember Kathleen?” he asked it offhandedly as if asking Tess if she remembered a friend from third grade.

Tess considered the fallen angel Kathleen, which instantly made her remember someone else. “Monica!” she rushed towards the other room, but Sam stopped her.

“Tess, you’re not in this anymore. Therefore, your contact with Monica has been limited. She can’t know what you are yet, and she can’t have any inkling as to who she really is or the probationary period will be lost. She’ll have to begin again from scratch. Only this time, without you.”

Tess’ brows were furrowed. “Well, we might have to make an exception. I can’t lose my angel girl like that.”

“Tess, you know I can’t bend on this.” He was holding her at bay with outstretched hands, but Tess was tenacious and when she got her mind made up, it was difficult to change it. “Anyway, Monica is a strong soul. I’m sure she won’t get lost.”

Tess stopped and put her hands on her hips, her nostrils flaring. Monica had always been like a daughter to her – since the beginning. She was overly protective of her and wouldn’t dream of leaving her to flounder. It was out of the question.

“Sam, let me appear to her, in my true form.” Tess was pleading. “Angels appear to humans all the time. If she needs an angel, I’ll be hers.”

“You can’t, Tess. You’re too close to her already. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“What does she have to do, then, Sam?”

“She has to resist temptation. She has to be more filled with grace as a human than any true human would. She has to exhibit exemplary faith and trust in God. Her heart should call out for him. She has the honest and true part down. She wants to be a good person – and she is, through and through. But she and Andrew have run into a few… ah… problems…” at Tess’ inquisitive stare, Sam showed her what her eyes were asking.

On the other side of the door, Monica and Andrew lay cuddled, sleeping on the shag rug, their limbs tangled beneath a quilted blanket. Monica’s face fit right in the crook of Andrew’s neck like a puzzle piece, just as Andrew’s arm wrapped around her like it belonged there. It took a moment for Tess to register what she was seeing.

Angel girl + Angel boy = …?

“Oh sweet heavenly Father…Sam, don’t tell me…”

Sam could only nod, a grim expression on his face. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Are they? Have they?” she couldn’t get the question out. “Never mind! I don’t want to know. We gotta put a stop to it, whatever it is.” Tess dropped onto the edge of the bed, her face contorted into a grimace. “Not my two angels. Oh Lord…please help us…”

“They weren’t technically supposed to meet, to avoid any chance of this happening. Then again, they did have help.” Sam looked at Tess. “There’s evil afoot, of course. Always. But one of our own little angels have helped get them together, thinking he was doing a good deed… he has since been reprimanded.” Sam let his mind wander to little Rafael who was currently on daycare duty; singing nursery rhymes to baby angels by day and scrubbing cloud dust off arches by night.

“She has to be shown the light.” Tess said, and she was glowing as bright as a star, filled with God’s grace.

Sam averted his eyes. “Tess, it won’t work with me. I can’t let you interfere. We have to… let them do whatever it is they’re going to do.”

Tess shook her head, not seeing the logic. “In human form, they would do what any human would do. If we just let them go along, then they could end up married, having babies, taking out mortgages on houses and going on vacations in Forth Lauderdale!” Tess was wiping tears off her cheek. “Sam, I don’t want my angels to go that way – and I can’t see them in matching Hawaiian shirts and pushing strollers through a park. It’s not natural!”

Sam couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his dark features. He had known Tess for close to millennia, and yet she never failed to surprise him. Her brown eyes were red and filled with water. She would give her life for Monica or Andrew, and this was part of what made Tess such an exemplary angel. She was selfless and true.

“There may be ways around the red tape.” Sam muttered. “I don’t want to advocate such things, but… we’ll look into it.” At Tess’ smile, he continued. “In the meantime, however, Monica and Andrew must prepare themselves mentally, for what is in store. This thing they’re caught up in now is only the tip of the iceberg. There will be a real test of faith in store for them, and that is what will matter most, in the end.”

“Well, don’t make me wait!” Tess’ enthusiasm was infectious. “Tell me how to help them!”

Sam smiled and reached for Tess’ hand. “Come with me.”

. . .

It was nearly nine o’clock in the morning as Monica stood reading the note left on Tess’ bureau. It was written in gold ink and explained Tess’ absence as a sudden unexpected meeting with her agent in Milan. Monica’s brows were furrowed as she read the words. There was a comforting feeling in the words, but the thought of Tess being gone made her feel a little empty inside. She felt as if she were missing a limb already.

“How long will she be gone?” Andrew asked from the threshold.

Monica shook her head, slowly. “I don’t know.” She looked at him, into his hazel orbs. “I miss her already.”

“She’ll be back.” He sounded confident. “You two get along so well. I’m sure she misses you too.”

Monica nodded, and then she lowered her gaze to the carpet. “She’s like a mother to me.” She looked at Andrew. “I don’t have a real mother. At least, I don’t think I do. Not anymore. Anyway, if I had a mother, I would hope she’d be like Tess.”

Andrew nodded and approached her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “The two of you were destined to meet.” He turned her around to face him. “I think I always knew that.”

Monica regarded him. “And what about us, Andrew? You and me?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know yet what destiny has in store for us.”

Monica nodded. “I know one thing.” And she leaned up and kissed his mouth gently, a feather-light touch that made him weak in the knees. She had a way of doing that, of making him feel so powerless. She was so gentle in everything she did that he could barely feel her when she asserted herself with him.

He grinned. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“Doin’ what?” she feigned ignorance. And honestly, she had no real clue the impact she had on him, the magnetism.

“You’re going to get us into trouble.” He grinned and pushed her hair from her face. There was something about her that made him feel so comfortable and so alive and so optimistic. She had a fire inside her that drew him in, that he couldn’t explain, but he also felt a barrier, like a warning signal. “I have to go to work at some point, ya know.”

Monica smiled as his thumbs drew circles against her skin, intimate little touches that made her feel that much closer to him. She felt it too, that little something that kept her from taking the plunge with Andrew. It was like they shouldn’t…

“Don’t let me keep you from it.” Monica nodded and moved away from his touch. “I’ll make dinner, if you’d like. You can come back here when you’re done.”

He watched her walk away from him, hating the distance. “Monica…”

She nodded. “I know, Andrew. I feel it too.” She shrugged. “I don’t understand it, but…”

“Maybe…” he hesitated. “…maybe we don’t have to listen to it. We’re adults, after all.” He approached her, let his hands rest on her shoulders, tugging her close enough to let her feel his warm breath against her shoulder. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I don’t think there would be that little voice if we weren’t meant to listen.” She faced him, so close, their noses almost touched.

“What’s wrong with loving you?” he asked and brushed his nose against hers.

She shook her head, at a loss for words. “I… I don’t…”

And then his lips captured hers, lazily. His hands buried themselves in her thick dark hair as he brought her face in close, letting their mouths meld. Her hands held onto him as they kissed, his mouth parting hers to allow for better access. She tasted amazing, like coffee, like honey, like eternity. The longer he kissed her, the harder it was to stop himself, the harder it was to come up for air.

Her arms wrapped around him, grasping fistfuls of his shirt as he roamed his hands down her back and then up to her pale shoulders peeking from beneath an oversized sweater. He bent his neck to kiss that porcelain flesh as she watched him, her dark eyes glazing over with passion. She wondered, fuzzily, how far this could go, how far they were willing to take it.

“Andrew…” she whimpered as his hands pulled her to him. She could feel his firm body against hers and it felt so right and yet so wrong. She knew they had to stop, knew that if they didn’t it would cause irreparable damage. She didn’t know how or why she knew it, but she knew it was true. “…Andrew.”

“Monica…” he whispered, and his hands fell away. She felt a loss almost immediately. His forehead rested against her shoulder and she comforted him by dragging her hands through his thick mop of blond hair. “…I’m sorry. I just… I get so carried away.”

“So do I.” She whispered, as if they were being watched. For the first time, she felt as if they were being tested, somehow. It made her a little fearful, but also confident. She knew she could beat it, whatever it was. “You should go, Andrew.”

He raised his head to look at her, and she saw that there were tears in his eyes. He was struggling with this as hard as she was, and it was evident right now. For a split second, she thought she caught a glimpse of another Andrew, one who was older and wiser – and yet powerless. That Andrew was used to being in control of himself, and a master of his emotions. Not like this one who was on the verge cracking.

“You’re right.” He pulled himself together and stepped away from her, turning his back so that he could wipe his eyes without her seeing. “I should go. I have work to do. I should be helping people.”

Monica wished she, too, could help someone, but she just nodded and waved to him as he slipped on his jacket and left.

. . .

Out on the streets, Andrew wandered to his truck and intended to drive to his small apartment across town but instead took a detour to the little pub he’d come to know as home. He felt empty inside, but he also felt that he had to find his purpose in life or he’d be finished. He had long since stopped working as a plumber because he felt it was only a ruse, a way for him to drop unnoticed into people’s lives so he could be a steady presence for them, maybe work himself into their lives long enough to make a difference, but it never worked out quite the way he planned. He’d begun to feel like a failure.

His night job, however, was different. He felt comfortable in his uniform, helping to deliver people to the hospital – or to death. In the recent weeks after he’d met the man in white, Adam, he’d seen him a handful of times hanging around when people were near their final moments. He was a welcome presence, but he never spoke to Andrew directly. Not since that first time.

Inside the tavern, the sunlight shone in through the blinds. Andrew sat down at the bar and motioned for the bartender to send him a drink.

“The usual?” the bartender asked, but Andrew shook his head, a grim expression on his face.

“Just a ginger ale.” but he felt a hand on his wrist next to him. When he turned, he saw a man he’d never seen before, grinning.

“Can I help you?” Andrew tried to keep the steel out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was leery of strangers who sat so close and then smiled that way – and there was something in his eyes, too, that made Andrew catch his breath. They were empty.

“What are you having, buddy?”

“What’s it to you?” Andrew turned away from him as the bartender sat his ginger ale in front of him.

The man smirked. “Why don’t you try something a little stronger? I’m sure you can handle it, a trooper like you.”

“Do me a favor,” Andrew said without looking at him. “Get away from me.”

“Listen, you look like a man who really needs to drown his sorrows.” The man said. “I know just the drink…” and like magic, the bartender sat it in front of him, a greenish swirling liquid like absinth, although, Andrew suspected, more dangerous than that. “…It’s got everything you need. If you want to forget...”

Andrew pondered the man’s words. Did he want to forget? Would life be easier if he didn’t know Monica at all? Would it be easier if he didn’t have this thing hovering over his head all the time like a cloudy version of his past? It was all so mysterious and getting more bothersome by the second.

Andrew regarded the stranger, really took him in. He was tall and pale and foreboding, but attempting to be friendly. He smelled foul – but not of body odor. He smelled like sulfur.

“What’s your name?” Andrew stared at the drink as he asked it, the contents swirling in the glass, almost hypnotizing him.

“Eric.” The man answered in his deep voice, his eyes flashing as he said it.

Andrew reached out, past his own soft drink and caressed the sweaty glass. The condensation wet his hands and he tipped the drink this way and that, watching the curious way the liquid moved, almost like green honey.

“So, what’s so great about this stuff anyway?” he asked the man, stalling for time. He suspected that maybe the man had poisoned it or dissolved a GHB into it. He was always running into crazy people here, but they were never this tenacious.

“Oh, believe me, it’s not poisoned.” Eric answered, as if having read Andrew’s mind. “After all, the bartender brought it. Not me. If you want to feel good, and I just so happen to be in the business of making people feel good, then stick around.” He winked at Andrew. “Try the drink. You’ll like it.”

And then Andrew saw himself trying to work under a possible high, accidentally killing someone. He saw himself being fired and maybe even jailed for his negligence. He wanted to help people – not hurt them. And he didn’t need this loser showing him more ways of screwing up. He was doing a fine job of that on his own.

“Thanks.” Andrew pushed the drink away. “But no thanks.”

Eric’s face warmed as he glared at Andrew but tried to keep his voice neutral. “You’re sure? Oh well. Suit yourself.”

There were several minutes of silence as Andrew sipped at his soda, wishing he’d had someone to talk to. Someone like Rafael… or Monica. But then the man interrupted his thoughts again.

“So, you got a lady friend?”

Andrew had had enough of his questions. They all felt so calculated. “Listen, mister, if you have something to ask me, then get it off your chest because I’m getting a little tired.”

Eric grinned. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking of my girlfriend. She’s hot, ya know. She used to live with two other girls, but one of them ‘bought the farm’ if you catch my drift.” He looked at Andrew waiting for a reaction. “Anyway, she’s really something. She’s sexy, with a great body… this long reddish dark brown hair… Irish accent…”

Now, Andrew nearly choked on his drink. “What did you say?”

Eric shrugged. “I call her ‘Irish’, but that’s only when we’re alone together, and she’s all over me. She loves my body.” He chuckled, and Andrew felt himself fill up with rage. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be talking about Monica.

“Irish?” Andrew heard himself say in a hoarse voice. “What’s her real name?”

“Oh, her real name?” Eric kept Andrew waiting. “It’s Monica.”

Andrew balled up his fists, and he was inches away from rearing back, smashing Eric’s face in, but something held him back. He took several deep breaths and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t believe it.

“Right. Whatever.” He said between clenched teeth and slammed his drink down onto the bar so hard that it broke in his hand, but he ignored the pain and the shards of glass in his fingers. He also ignored the stares he got from the other patrons.

When he got outside, he wiped the anger off his face. It was a heavy blow, even the thought of Monica being with another man. He was trying to force it out of his mind, but it wouldn’t leave. It was persistent, like an insect bite. He also couldn’t get the picture of Eric’s sly grin out of his mind. He’d been trying to get a rise out of Andrew almost from the second he’d met him. Now, he’d gotten his wish.

Instead of standing there, Andrew walked towards his truck, past Sam and Rafael who were little more than glowing vapors, and completely invisible to him.

“This is a true test of his character.” Sam said to Rafael as they watched Andrew speed down the road. “How he handles this will determine a lot.”

“It doesn’t seem fair.” Rafael said. “We already know what a good person he is. Why isn’t that enough?”

“Well,” Sam said, regarding the young angel. “It’s not up to us, is it?”

Rafael shook his head, slowly. “Can’t I help him?”

Sam looked down the bridge of his nose at Rafael. “I think you’ve done enough. And shouldn’t you be someplace, singing Baa Baa Black Sheep to little angels?”

Rafael sighed. “He needs me.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Sam said. “Now is the time for him to find strength within himself.” At seeing the little angel’s sad face, he patted him on the back. “Now, don’t feel that way, little angel. Andrew got a lot out of what you told him about getting familiar with God. Hopefully, he can call upon the lessons you taught him now when he needs it most…”