Hi guys, this is my first romance, my first one shot, AND my first time muckin' about with this angel. Please excuse any errors as I'm sure there are some!

EDITED AS OF DECEMBER 6th 2019

When I was a little girl, around six or so, my mother took me to a church filled with statues of angels. She listened to the sermon while my eyes wandered over the celestial beings. Afterward, when all the people had wandered out, and I grew tired of waiting in a pew, I found her praying near the front of the church.

I can remember the smell of incense and the squeak of my new black shoes on the stone floor as I walked towards her.

"Mamma, what are you doing?" I asked, tugging her sleeve.

She smiled down on me with sparkling eyes and said "I am praying to Raphael" pointing to an angel. She must have seen the confusion in my bright eyes, because knelt down and said, "If you ever need something, you pray. If you ever want to say thanks, you pray. And if you ever want to talk, you pray. It helps when you are lonely, sad or scared." She gestured around us "This is the whole host of heaven, and each one does a different job. Raphael heals, Michael fights, and Gabriel sends messages. But when you want to talk, you choose your favorite."

I looked around with wide eyes, and while my mother prayed some more, I decided to choose an angel to talk to.

I looked at each one, choosing with care. I went past several before my eyes landed on an angel of marble, with wings and sword of gold. Perched on a polished wood table apart from the others, with a fierce eye and stern lip it stared at an unseen foe, wings flared wide- it was the most gorgeous thing I had seen in my life. While not the biggest or most detailed, it was everything to me. It was easy for me to imagine him tall, standing in the way of darkness with a battle cry, unafraid of any foe.

My mom found me there, enraptured by the sight. She chuckled as she read the name for me. Michael.

We never went back to the church, but after that, I talked with Michael non-stop. I whispered to him at church, I cried to him when my mom died, leaving me an orphan, and I asked him what he thought about.

He was my best and only friend that stayed with me through countless moves from house to house. I told him about my garbage bagged clothes as I went from family to orphanage, never staying anywhere long. I drew pictures of him, sang to him, and he had never said a word to me.

It was childish, naïve, and utterly pointless, but I never stopped. I supposed going to that church was the last thing my mother had really done before she went downhill.

But that was life. I thought, glancing at the empty tables at my work, idly doodling on a paper napkin, waiting for my shift to end.

I was twenty now, and I worked in a cafe. My car was non-existent and my apartment was tiny and cheap. The only things that I ate were rejects from work and the occasional bowl of soup. It was hard, I worked whenever I could, but it was only enough for rent and my clothes. I should have gotten somewhere in life, but it was like fate was playing one hell of a sick, twisted joke with my life.

I glared down at the six winged figure I had inked on the white material. It wasn't my worst drawing, and the slant of the eyes was about right, but I tossed it in the trash anyway.

Sorry Michael.

I didn't have a spot for yet another napkin drawing on my fridge.

I hardly noticed my co-worker Elle pull it out and gawk at it. She was 17 and golden haired, with a bright future in front of her. Nice enough when she wasn't having me cover shifts so she could make out with her boyfriend in the back. She also had the awful habit of being a sycophant to our boss to get what she wanted. I never really held it against her, I didn't even think she knew she was doing it.

"Girl!" she exclaimed, rolling the 'R' with a trill. "Are you telling me that you were gonna trash this!?"

I just rolled my eyes at her valley-girl voice.

"No, I was planning to allow it to become sentient and take over the planet." She stared blankly at my face for a moment as my brain went over words to describe her.

Shallow?

No not quite enough...

Airhead?

No too simplistic-

Facile.

The word flew into my brain like a comet before I slapped a smile on my face and said,

"Yes. I did toss it, which is why it was in the trash."

She didn't seem to notice the sarcasm, and I shook my head while wiping down a counter. It wasn't like she did it intentionally, but it was grating nonetheless.

She shook her head and blew a bubble in her pink gum, carefully spreading the art flat and snapping a picture before folding it and tucking it in her pocket.

At least she appreciated it.

She was about to say something when the old clock chimed midnight, and like Cinderella, I was in no hurry to stay. My bag was packed and I pulled my jacket over the red uniform that was from the 60's and walked out into the quiet city.

It had been a hard day at work, my feet were killing me, and I still had another mile to go before I could sleep.

Sleep… Tonight would be the last night in a mattress for a while, my rent was due tomorrow and I had too little to pay for it. It wasn't the first time either, I had been homeless twice before, and every time I got a new home, I told myself never again.

And yet here I was, sniffling in the dark, upset over some damn landlord raising the rent. I didn't know why I even bothered crying, my miserable life was almost as bad as it could get anyway. It wasn't like I was helpless, I could survive.

I will survive I promised myself, wiping the tears off my face. I could either cry or do something useful, and for now, that was getting home.

The sound of my footsteps were loud on the pavement as I marched onward, echoing off the row of dingy warehouses, but not loud enough to cover the cocking of a gun.

I whirled around to face the sound, coming face to face with a man that stunk of booze and drugs. His eyes were wild and red-rimmed, and his clothes looked like they hadn't been washed in months. "Empty your pockets! Now!" He barked, and I got the feeling he'd done this before.

I pulled out my wallet and emptied it. It was ten bucks and a handful of change. His hand twitched and muttered to himself he counted. "I gotta get more..." He muttered, his hand twitching slightly.

I tried to get my feet to move while he was distracted, but he looked at me, his eyes angry as he pointed the gun at my face again "Keys! Car keys, now!"

I shook my head as I stuttered out "I-I don't have one- any."

He ripped my purse off my arm and looked through it, finding a bandana and some bobby pins.

He looked at me in disbelief, his drink-addled mind working as I started praying silently. Michael, if you can hear me, please help I'm so scared. There's a loonybin with a gun to my face and you're my only shot. Help me, please help me...

He looked up as an idea came to him, and if not for the gun in his hand, it would have been pathetic how clearly you could see the lightbulb in his brain flick on. "Inside the building, or else!" He threatened, waving his gun. I wanted to run, to hide, something, but the gun was more compelling, and I walked inside.

The screech of metal on metal followed me inside when he closed the massive door, the warehouse was empty other than the musty smell that was stirred up with every step. He pushed me into a small office-like room to the side, tying my arms up to a metal something-or-other with a belt after peering around for rope and not finding any.

He pulled it tight enough that I was on tiptoes, gagging me with my own bandanna. The tears came pouring off my face when he left, locking the door behind him. The belt chafed at my arms, and they burned with exhaustion, and time seemed to drag its feet. My bandanna was stifling, and I could barely breathe with the dust that was still lazily floating in the air. I chewed on the fabric, trying to force it out of my mouth, finally getting out and gasping for oxygen.

The time crawled by and my thoughts became sluggish. My feet were too sore to keep holding me, but it was too painful to rely on my arms alone. I could see the bruises start to form as the day dawned, it's light coming through a hole in the metal wall.

My thoughts to Michael had slowly become more and more jumbled hours ago. And I slumped my head and closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything other than my arms and feet.

I jerked awake when the main door to the warehouse screeched open, and I immediately noticed the numb and tingling warmth that ached in my arms. I pushed up with my toes once more, my arms burning with relief, and I groaned as my tired mind tried to process.

Work. Midnight. Mugger.

Michael help me.

The door to the office was unlocking, and I was bracing for the rancid breath of the gun toting maniac when the building started to shake. I squinted and closed my eyes as the hole in the wall became too bright to look at, while the most piercing shriek I had ever heard began, causing my nose and ears to bleed. I tucked my head in my arms as best as I could, just, please, anything to quiet that noise.

Yet through the noise I heard a whisper, and the most beautiful voice I ever heard started singing. It was like a thousand voices of the best singers in the world had convened and become one for the sheer purpose of this moment.

I slowly uncovered my ears, trying to hear it all. The language was foreign to me, and yet I recognized it, it was calming and quiet. Somehow, it overwhelmed everything else, even the shriek, though it never changed volume. I don't know how long it lasted, but I felt empty when it ended.

When I opened my eyes, the office door had blown off its hinges, and the main door was opened completely, wreathing a figure in the entrance light. My eyes adjusted to the brightness, and I saw a shadow covering my captor's body, cast by… something. I would have called it a man, but after blinking I realized what I was seeing was no trick of the light. He had short dark hair, and his eyes were candy apple green. But all that was overshadowed by his wings, each of his six were covered with long golden feathers.

I sagged in disbelief and a single thought flashed through my mind.

Michael.

Almost like he heard me, he suddenly was in front of me.

He flashed a half smile and cut the belt holding me with a silver sword.

My legs wouldn't hold me, but he caught me before I fell, solid arms carrying me out of the building. I leaned my head against is chest, and I could hear his heart beating- no- his soul. It was soft, and I realized that it didn't beat, his soul hummed, like a song under your breath that you didn't even realize you were singing. My eyes were closing against my will and I yanked them open, not wanting to miss a second of this.

He chuckled and said "Sleep, I will be here in the morning." and I felt his warm lips touch my hair, making me slide into a dreamless slumber.

When I woke up, I was in a meadow full of flowers.

At first I didn't know where I was, or how I got there, but then I heard a voice humming AC\DC.

One question down.

I blinked as I sat up, realizing I must have been sleeping on his lap the whole time.

Not just any old person's lap though. Michaels. You just took a nap on a six winged archangel.

I could feel the heat rising to my face as I met He was staring at me, a calculating look in his eyes. "Did you know very few people can hear an angel's true voice? And that even fewer can see their wings?"

I shook my head, feeling better than I had in years… probably something he did, now that I thought about it. My dusty work uniform was gone, and in its place was a pair of jeans and a tee- shirt sporting a certain arc angel's wings.

I craned my neck up to see him, and I chuckled a bit at the sight of the all-powerful being of light that I was sitting next to, wearing plaid.

He seemed vaguely concerned and said, "What is it? Is it the clothes? I tried to make something that you would be familiar with."

"No, it's just, you're so different than your statues- not that I'm complaining! It's just… different."

He nodded understandingly and replied "This is not my true form. As a matter of fact, I have to return my vessel to his natural state shortly. It took a while for him to agree to let me use it, which is why I did not come directly.

He paused a moment as if weighing his words before continuing.

"I wanted to say thank you for talking to me, ever since you were a child. It was a great joy to me when a voice came into the nightmare of a pit. I only recently got out. But thank you."

My brain short circuited.

I was still trying to get over 'Arc Angel' and then he starts spouting about 'vessels' and a 'pit'. Well fine, sure, I can handle that. But him thanking me?

What even is my life at this point?

Michael laughed.

"You know that you are speaking with me when you do that, right?"

"What?!"

I squeaked, my face heating up.

Now a flipping angel was in my brain? Oh sweet mercy… He probably heard that, didn't he?

At his slight chuckle I instantly tried to focus on anything that would give me time to cool down and not think of anything awkward.

He put an arm around my shoulder, and my mind instantly went blank. I could feel the warmth on my shoulders, and I could once again hear something inside him singing…

"Back in Black?"

The words slipped my lips before I could even try to haul them back.

Michael just laughed, a deep, powerful laugh that warmed me to my core, and the flowers seemed to vibrate around us with sheer energy.

"That would be Dean, my vessel. He seems rather taken with the song."

The smile disappeared from his face, as he ruefully admitted,

"Though speaking of which, I must go now. I promised Dean that I would return it."

He seemed to be debating something in his head, and his lip twitched before he continued,

"I will most likely not see you till you leave the world to rest in heaven's hall, but I will be there to welcome you. And-" He added looking at me hesitantly, "If you so wish, I will stay with you when you get there. You have… captured my attention like no one else, and I…would look forward to that with you."

My heart nearly stopped in my chest, and my eyes flashed up to his green. It was like the wind had been snatched from my lungs. My mind was blank as a fresh piece of paper, but he seemed to understand that I just needed a moment.

"Yeah- Yes. Sounds nice" I finally croaked. After I managed to catch my breath, I looked down at his hand that had tangled with mine. Calloused from holding a weapon, dirt under the nails, and yet they were holding my hand carefully, as if I could break.

"Why me?" I whispered, my thumb rubbing on his.

"Because you are the one person who never asked for anything until you truly needed it, and after it was not given, you didn't scream at me. You didn't care for my power, title, or skill- and you didn't care that I never replied. I have had siblings with less loyalty, and I have known them millennia. You cared."

I swallowed a lump in my throat at the emphasis he put on that word, as if I was the only person in the world whose opinion mattered.

He rose and pulled me to my feet, pressing his lips once more into my hair. We stood like that for a time, and I closed my eyes, drawing in the moment. The sun was warm on my face, and a slight breeze caught my hair. One of Michael's wings touched my arm.

He smelled like smoke and oil, which I supposed was actually Dean, but under that was the smell of incense and nutmeg, and I breathed it in as long as I could.

He stepped back and smiled, "Until we meet again."

I stepped back as his eyes glowed and a white vapor came out of his mouth, rising heavenward.

For a moment, the air shimmered and a figure the size of a skyscraper- no, bigger- pulsing with raw power hovered golden. It was gone in the next blink, leaving only the haze of twilight that had fallen unnoticed around us.

The eyes turned green once more, and he was gone.

The vessel, Dean, put his hands on his knees, getting his bearings, then turned to me, and commented, "The pit sure mellowed him out." before whipping out his cell phone and calling someone to give him a ride home.

He shut it before sighing and asking "Have you just been stranded by an angel?"

I looked around, noticing that I had no clue where I was. "I guess I have" I said shrugging, "It's not like I had anything back at my old life … I'll be fine."

Dean shrugged, and we stood in silence, looking at the stars until an old black car drove up.

He walked over, and a taller man than him greeted him with a hug, relinquishing the keys and sliding in the passenger seat.

Dean hopped in, starting his car.

I turned away, taking a deep breath of the cool mountain air.

I heard a car door open and shut, and turned to see Dean, who was pulling on an old leather coat. He walked over, hands in his pockets, and asked,

"Look, I know this sound weird, but, do you want to come with us?"

I blinked as he continued.

"Me and my brother Sam, that is. I won't lie to you, it's not an easy life, and you could die. But you know about angels, and you would have a place to sleep and food to eat, and you wouldn't have to worry about getting ditched by an angel again."

I looked at him for a minute, before a warm feeling settled in my chest.

I grinned and said "Whatever you do, I'm in. I'm not scared of death. I have an angel looking out for me."

Thank you so much for reading! I would love to hear from you on what you thought

-ReneeFury

P.S. There is now another one! It's called 'The Angel's Love' Dedicated to Elysium Happiness, the first person to review my story.

P.P.S I have written a third in the set, and I would love it if you guys would check it out! I won't keep writing them all down here, but I plan on writing more stories, so stay tuned! ;)