Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2004 11:23:15 +0000
From: Jason Parker <archangelmatthew72@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Angel: Part 13

Authors Note: *looks at his hands* gah! My poor, poor hands! I
seem to spend my life typing. *sighs* ah well, at least this
is a good kind of pain. Unlike the pain that comes from
slaving away at papers for 5 hours straight. Ok, so you know
that Damien has been 'relegated to the scrap heap' so to
speak, at least for the time being. But that doesn't meant to
say others won't take his place...

Disclaimer: um... I'm not sure... is this legal? *looks around
and listens* well, I don't hear any sirens yet, so you're free
to
go ahead. However, you have been warned; this story contains
matter of a homosexual nature. If you are offended by that
sort of thing then you can afford to be a bit more offended,
so PISS OFF! *grumbles about stupid homophobic people* And if
you do happen to be under the legal age, just be sure you know
what you're doing. I can't be held responsible for your
actions.*hopes*


* * *
"Pansy enough for you?"


	After about five minutes of driving at their reckless
speed, Scott finally slowed the car down and looked to see how
Jason was for the first time. Jason was sitting rigidly in his
seat, the gun still clasped in his jittering hands. Scott took
it from him gingerly.
	"Whoa there sport, you don't want that thing going off
again!" he returned it to the glove compartment and closed it.
He looked at Jason who had taken on a greenish tinge. "Dude,
you don't look so well..."
	"Can you stop the car please?" Jason asked very softly,
his voice trembling.
	Scott slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the
road. Jason flung his door open and sank to his hands and
knees on the ground. Scott heard the distinctive sounds of dry
heaving.
	"Hey, are you alright?"
	Jason sat up and turned to face him as he wiped his
mouth. He wore a pained and confused expression. "I-I-I..." He
stuttered. "I just killed a man!" He turned away quickly and
wretched again.
	Scott got out of the car and moved around to crouch by
Jason. "Look, if it helps at all, he was trying to kill you
first!" Scott tried to reassure him. Jason turned back to him
and glowered. Scott got the message and sighed, "No, I didn't
think it would..." He reached out tentatively and rubbed
Jason's shoulders and back.
	Jason, for his part, began shuddering even more, trying
not to react to Scott's touch. 'Damn it!' he cursed under his
breath. 'Why do all of these straight guys keep touching me?
It's driving me crazy.' He tilted his head back and looked up
at the clouds drifting lazily overhead. 'All I wanted was
Matt, and now it seems like every guy I meet wants me. I
wonder if Scott even knows what he's doing?'
	Jason stood, careful not to touch Scott as he did so. He
looked about him and then caught the worried look on Scott's
face. "I'll be fine. But we should get going a again." He got
back in the car and closed the door.
	Scott stood for a moment outside. He tried to convince
himself that his concern for Jason was simply because if he
didn't deliver Jason in one piece to Sara, he wouldn't get
paid. But was that really all it was? Sighing, he rubbed his
eyes and banished all thoughts from his head before rejoining
Jason in the car. He started the engine again and they took
off down the road, a swirling dust devil and a cooling pool of
Jason's vomit the only signs of their passing.

	Jason did seem to be feeling better, as far as Scott
could tell. He quickly lost his pallor and in fact, after
barely moor then fifteen minutes Jason's head had slumped to
the side and his breathing became even.
	Scott pushed his hair back from his eyes and studied
Jason's sleeping face. He couldn't tell what, but he felt
there was something special about Jason. "Something special
indeed." He said very quietly and then returned his attention
to the road.

* * *

	Matt was jolted out of his trance by the sound of a
gunshot by his head. He leapt to his feet and stared wildly.
Ashley looked back at him from the chaise lounge. "Jason!" he
cried.
	Ashley leapt to her feet as Matt tried to run to the
balcony. She stood in the marble archway, blocking his way.
	"Please Ash, I have to find him. Something's happened, I
can tell."
	She shook her head, "Matt, you know you cant. Ophiel is,
as always watching. If you go down to Jason he will see you
and then Miriam will track you both down. If you ever want to
be able to see Jason again, please don't go." She looked into
his eyes and pleaded "Please, as much for him as for me. I
don't want to loose you too."
	Matt hung his head in resignation. "Of course, you're
right. I'm just worried about Jason..."
	She hugged him, her thin arms circling his chest. "I
know, I know you are. I could open a window and see what's
going on if you want..."
	"But then Miriam will know. She'd come give you hell for
it." Matt asked worriedly.
	Ashley grinned, "Actually, I spoke with Tobias. He has
authorized me as Jason's temporary watcher, with restrictions
however. All I can do is watch. Do you want me to?"
	Matt nodded silently and she took her seat again on the
chaise. She spread her hands in the air in front of her and
moved them apart. Matt moved around to stand beside her
shoulder. Clouds obscured the view in the window, until
suddenly the view shot down. The window seemed to fall through
the air and Matt began to make out details. The picture
rapidly zoomed in on a car traveling down a small road and
then through the roof of the car.
	Jason's face stared back up at them, peaceful in sleep.
Matt sank to his knees and stared lovingly at his face. He
reached out a hand to stroke Jason's cheek, but when his hand
touched the window it dissolved in a fine mist.
	They sat in silence for a moment, then Ashley sighed.
"Sometimes I think Tobias is the only one left who isn't
afraid to openly defy Miriam. And he's so old now... They say
he can still remember the Old Days, when Michael, Gabriel and
Raphael still held sway..." She looked up at him plaintively.
"You don't think Miriam would ever...?"
	Matt shook his head, "She wouldn't dare. There would be
hell to pay if anything ever happened to him. Besides, I think
Tobias can still hold his own." Matt smiled weakly. "He rarely
displays his powers anymore, but I remember the old wars. You
were barely a child then... and I was just nearing one
hundred." Matt's eyes shifted out of focus as he spoke. "He
was beautiful and terrible in battle. He could have taken the
fighting to the gates of Hell and beyond, but he recognized
the necessity of balance." Matt came back to reality and shook
his head. "No, Miriam wouldn't dare to face him."

* * *

	The cougar woke from its sleep and stretched, preparing
for its nocturnal activities. As he slipped form his den, a
strange, new aroma teased at his nose. He sniffed, long and
hard to find the direction of the odor and then bounded down,
across the rocks. His cat eyes picked out the trials and
tracks of other animals that had passed during the day, from
the fading light of sunset. The odor grew stronger as he
neared, and his hormones began to pulse. He panted as if in
heat and tore through the undergrowth to find the source.
	He neared a road and his ears flicked back so they lay
flat across his head. He looked warily about and then dashed
out from the undergrowth onto the road. The smell was all
around him now, almost overpowering. His slit-like eyes
scanned the ground searching for the source.
	He padded softly across the tarmac road and crouched by a
small pool of cooled vomit. He the spore of it curiously and
his hormones peaked. He extended his tongue and lapped
tentatively at the vomit.
	His pupils dilated in a flash and he leapt back from the
pool. He raised the hair on his hackled and hissed loudly.
Then his muscles started to ripple under his fur as they grew
and expanded. He growled and screeched in pain as his body
grew and expanded till he was twice his original size.
Screeching horribly, he raced off back into the undergrowth,
his now massive paws tearing up the ground with every step.

	Barely ten minutes later a man strode, alone, up the
road, heading in the same direction Scott and Jason had taken.
He had short, jet-black hair and deep brown eyes, broad
shoulders, narrow waist and chiseled features. He stopped by
the pool of vomit and crouched. He dipped two fingers into the
now congealing liquid and brought them to his nose. He sniffed
them and then jerked his hand away from his face. He withdrew
a sanitary hand cloth and cleaned his fingers before laying
the cloth over the vomit. When he was finished, he stood and
looked up the road the way Scott and Jason had fled.
	"Well, well, well, Mr. Parker. You certainly are just
full of surprises." He had a faintly British accent,
reminiscent of old, Elizabethan England, but a strong and
powerful voice. "Very soon Mr. Parker. Very soon, I shall be
making your acquaintance."

* * *

	Scott pulled into the compound a few hours after sunset.
Sara was waiting for him. She spotted the scratches and dents
from the bullets immediately.
	"What took you so long, and what the hell happened to
your car?" she asked anxiously.
	"Shhh!" he quieted her. "Jason's sleeping." He explained
in a whisper "We hand a bit of an encounter with Damien." He
caught her alarmed look and continued quickly. "Jason's fine,
just a bit shaken up is all. I'll explain everything in my
report."
	She nodded her acceptance, "I'll wake him then and take
him up to his room." She moved to open Jason's door.
	Scott didn't know why, but he suddenly felt as if he
wanted to take Jason there himself. As if he needed to. He
stepped forwards and opened the door himself, blocking her way
to the car at the same time. "It's ok. No need to wake him,
I'll carry him up." Before she could argue, he stooped and
picked Jason up in his arms and carefully withdrew him from
the car. "Bring his bag will you? It's in the back. Guest
quarters right?" he asked over his shoulder and then strode
off without waiting for her answer, Jason held tightly in his
arms.
	Sara stood staring after them for a few moments, half
fuming at being degraded to 'bag carrier' and half in awe of
the effect Jason seemed to have on men.

* * *

	Jason awoke in an unfamiliar four-poster bed about
midmorning, judging from the light streaming in through the
window.
	"Now why does this seem like such a familiar start to the
day?" he jokingly asked the room. He sighed and realized he
hadn't actually minded it when he knew he'd get to see Matt.
Now though, he looked about the room with apprehension. The
walls were made of massive cut stone blocks and were draped at
intervals with tapestries. There were only two doors, and the
one that was open, he could see through into a marble
bathroom.
	He looked surreptitiously under the sheets at his boxers.
"Well, at least I'm not naked this time."
	He swung his legs over the side of the bed and his feat
met a warm, fur rug that covered the floor. Looking around the
room, he saw his bag, sitting, emptied by an ornate wardrobe.
He opened it and found his clothes neatly put away. He grabbed
a clean outfit and tossed on the bed. The bathroom was
likewise set up, with all his stuff placed neatly about.
	"Gee," he said to himself as he climbed into the shower.
"Sara really has become one of those obsessive compulsive
types... She needs to get out more."

* * *

	After showering, brushing his teeth and getting dressed,
Jason opened the other door a crack and peeked outside. It
opened into a long stone hallway, with one wall open to the
air by stone arches and a low wall. He stepped to the edge and
looked down into a courtyard. There seemed to be no one about.
He looked to his sides and spotted what looked like a stairway
leading down, over to his right. As he walked, he passed
several closed doors, some with names on them. He recognized
none and so kept walking. The stairs led down and had sconces
along the wall for torches.
	"I feel like I've been thrown back in time a couple
hundred years. This is so weird."
	Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, he looked
across the gardened courtyard to a large, metal enforced,
wooden door. He made his way around to it, eased it open and
slipped outside.
	The ground was made of hard packed dirt, but at least the
other buildings looked fairly modern. There was the noise of
cheerful but boisterous eating coming from one of the large
buildings. A sign above the double swinging doors proclaimed
it to be the 'Mess'. He pushed his way through the doors and
all sound seemed to cease.

	He had entered a room full of perhaps three hundred
people in army garb. He felt all six hundred eyes lock onto
him and the tight black side zip sweater and jeans he was
wearing. He slowly walked to the canteen, his footsteps
echoing loudly in the silence. He looked at a few of the faces
and tried not to show his surprise as the expressions of women
and some of the men changed from glares to lust as he passed
them by. He grabbed one of the trays, utensils and moved
around the self-service canteen, taking things that looked
edible.
	He reached the end and picked up his tray, looking about
for somewhere to sit. He was getting really uncomfortable with
everyone staring at him. He felt like running out then and
there, but with everyone already staring at him he didn't want
to attract more attention. Someone whistled from the far end
of the room. He turned to see Scott, gesturing him to sit with
him and his companions. Jason made his way down to his table,
trying not to let his ass swing too much as he walked. God,
he'd never felt so self-conscious in his life! Scott made his
companions make room for Jason next to him and Jason thanked
them before taking his seat on the bench. A murmur of voices
seemed to fill the air as he did so. Jason picked at his food
nervously. He could still feel numerous eyes on him.
	"Why is everyone staring at me?" Jason asked Scott out of
the side of his mouth.
	Scott grinned. "Beats me, but judging by some of the
looks you're getting from the girls, I'd sat they think you're
hot."
	Jason felt himself going red in the face.
	All talking ceased for the second time as heavy footsteps
sounded across the hall and Jason looked up to see a burly guy
bearing down on their table. He had brownish hair, a chest
like a barrel, biceps to match and a face that reminded Jason
strangely of a pug dog. He looked pretty young though, early
twenties if Jason had to guess.
	"Trouble?" Jason asked Scott.
	Scott just looked grimly at the muscular man bearing down
on them. The man reached the table and with one hand shoved
the people seated near Jason and Scott off the table. They
quickly picked themselves up backed away with a many a dirty
look at the man.
	Scott stared hard at the man. "You don't want to do that
Kevin," he warned.
	"Oh, and why not?" Kevin sneered. "It's a Sunday, you
can't pull rank on me. Only Sara can do that. Besides," he
flexed his arms, showing them off, "that bitch probably
couldn't handle me."
	Scott put his hand on Jason's arm. "Don't do anything
stupid."
	"Don't worry, I won't." Jason replied and reached
casually for the jug of water on the table. He began to fill
his glass.
	"Hey faggot!" Kevin said, addressing Scott. "Is this
pansy ass piece of shit your boyfriend?" He sneered.
	Jason paused in filling his glass. "Oh I wont do anything
stupid," he said and flung the pitcher of water at Kevin.
	There was a collective gap from around the room. Kevin
looked dumbstruck for a moment as water dripped down him. His
features slowly reassembled themselves into a mask of rage.
	"You little fuck!" Kevin threw a punch at Jason's head.
	Scott jumped up, ready to punch Kevin back and defend
Jason, but there was no need. Jason had Kevin's fist clenched
with his own hand, inches from his head. Jason stood slowly,
still holding Kevin's fist tightly. Kevin grunted and bunched
his muscles. Jason seemed nonplused and was managing to hold
the arm steady without seeming to exert any effort. He pushed
his hand down slowly and Kevin began to sink so as to prevent
his wrist from snapping. He grunted in pain and sank to his
knees. Kevin hurled his free hand at Jason's midriff but soon
found that hand also clenched in an iron grip.
	"Pansy enough for you?" Jason snarled. He brought his
foot up and kicked Kevin in the chest while simultaneously
releasing his hands. Kevin sprawled backwards across the floor
before colliding with the next table. Jason took his seat
again and took a bite from his toast.
	Kevin struggled to his feet and faced Jason, "I'll kill
you for that you son of a bit--!"
	Kevin fell silent as a small door behind Jason opened and
Sara stepped trough. She looked at Kevin and then at Jason.
	"What's going on here?" she asked sharply.
	"Nothing Sara, Kevin here was just leaving." Jason
explained to her, glaring at Kevin.
	Kevin shot daggers with his eyes at Jason before turning
and stomping out of the double doors.
	Sara stared at Jason. "You may be my brother Jason, but
this is my domain. What happened?"
	There was faint murmuring from the onlookers. Jason
shrugged, "We had a disagreement. You would have done the same
in this case." He gave her a knowing look.
	She got the message. "Oh, in that case," she turned to
Scott, "remind me to put Kevin on double work shift tomorrow."
She faced Jason again, "As for you, no more fighting."
	He looked at the ground "Yes Sara."
	"Good," she said and grabbed both Scott and Jason be the
wrists. "Come on, we have important things to discuss." And so
saying she dragged them back towards the door she had entered
through.
	As Jason was pulled through the door, the hall burst out
in an uproar. Where before Jason had been looked upon with
admiration and bravery for standing up to Kevin, he was now
receiving stares of even greater admiration mixed with some
fear. One of the last comments he heard before the door closed
behind him was, "Brother? I didn't know she had a brother! I
bet he's even better than she is-" and then the door closed,
sealing out the packed hall.

	She walked them along the corridor, and then up a flight
of stone steps. She pushed them through a doorway and Jason
found himself standing un a small balcony, overlooking a
training grounds of sorts. There was equipment, old and
modern, placed strategically around the enclosed area. Sara
looked at Scott and then at Jason. She pointed to the training
grounds.
	"Train him." She said and slipped back trough the door
they had entered.
	Scott looked after her baffled. "Wha-? I can't just-" He
stammered.
	Jason crossed his arms, "What? You don't think I can do
it?"
	Scott looked back at him in surprise. "After your little
display back there? I don't doubt that you can do it. But no
one trains in there till after their first year, and you're
not even part of-" He caught himself and grinned sheepishly.
	"Exactly what is this place?" Jason asked through
narrowed eyes.
	"Um, I'm not really at liberty to say... Lets just call
it an... uh... 'Agency.'" His eyes darted around, as if
searching for eavesdroppers. He clapped his hands, changing
the subject. "Right then, lets go get started shall we?"
	He led Jason back through the door and further down the
hallway to a spiral flight of stairs leading to the ground.
When the reached the bottom, Scott went trough doorway to one
side labeled 'Men.' There was a corresponding arch on the
other side of the stairway labeled 'Women'. Jason followed him
into an expansive changing room with rows of lockers and
benches. Scott opened up a cupboard filled with shelves of
folded clothes. He looked Jason over.
	"Hm... these things are usually custom fitted when you
join. I'm not sure we have anything in your size right now."
	"Doesn't matter, I'll just do it in my normal clothes,"
Jason shrugged.
	"Fine, but you'll want to take off that sweater," Scott
called over his shoulder as he walked down the rows to his
locker and took out his gear. He set them down on the bench
next to him and started to disrobe himself of his military
garb.
	"Are you crazy? It's mid-December!" Jason asked.
	Scott raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, you'll be glad
later."
	Jason shifted uncomfortably and tried not to stare as
Scott pulled off his shirt. 'Cut doesn't do him justice,'
Jason thought. 'Chiseled is more like it!'
	By the time Scott had changed into a pair of loose kaki
slacks and a tank top, Jason had sprung major wood. He hoped
Scott wouldn't notice the bulge in his pants. He stripped off
his own sweater and Scott stashed it in his locker along with
his clothes.

	They emerged back onto the training grounds and Jason
shivered in the chill air. "So what's the deal for the day?"
he inquired. "Jogging? Weights?"
	Scott laughed heartily, "For starters maybe!"

* * *

	"I'm coming!" Fiona shouted as the doorbell rang for the
third time. She lay down her book on the sofa where she had
been reading when the doorbell had interrupted her. She rose
and made her way to the front hall. She passed the kitchen
door where Rosy was already preparing a Christmas feast. Fiona
popped her head in quickly and wished she hadn't as music
blared out of the kitchen. She took a quick glance around the
kitchen and then hurriedly backed out, not wanting to be
sucked into the disaster area.
	She dashed down the hall to the front door and opened it
halfway. She hadn't been expecting visitors; her parents
weren't due to fly home till the next day. A youngish looking
woman was standing on her doorstep smiling warmly. She was
dressed like a businesswoman, with long black curls hanging
around her shoulders.
	"Hello, you must be Fiona." The woman said.
	"Yes, can I help you?" Fiona asked, preparing to turn
away yet another salesperson.
	"I think so, yes. I'm Matthew's mother, Miriam." She said
casually.
	Fiona tried to slam the door, but Miriam already had her
foot wedging it open. "That's not very nice. You aught to show
more respect to your visitors," she said patronizingly as she
forced her way past Fiona into the house.

* * *

	Is Miriam actually telling the truth for once? How the
hell could someone like Matt have such a horrid mother? Who
does this make Ashley? What's Miriam planning to do to Fiona?
Will Jason ever find out? Will Scott overcome his feelings?
What are Scott's feelings? Has hell finally frozen over? Is it
even possible for a hiatus to continue?
	Keeping this in any longer is going to make something
burst, so in reverse order, the answers are as follows: yes
(but I won't or I think my spleen will rupture), no, *EDITED*,
*EDITED*, *EDITED*, *EDITED*, *EDITED*, *EDITED*, *EDITED*.
	If the information disclosed above has been edited out,
then I apologies. However, it probably means the next time you
hear from me, I will be chained to my desk being forced to
write at tazer point. Now I must dash before the little imps
that run design and plot show up for my hide. If I get a
chance to while I am on the run, I will check my email, so
please continue to send your comments and questions to
ArchangelMatthew72@Hotmail.com . Wish me luck in avoiding
security!