Hey guys. The name's Niki and this story is about one Rebecca Oliver. She is purely imagination and if anything happens here that happened to you or your name happens to be Rebecca Oliver then, well, I don't mean to offend you. In fact I don't even know you because I put the name together out of no where, so, don't sue or copy cuz then I'll end up suing you, and.yeah.big mess. So stay and read if you like, other wise just leave with a smile. Don't worry, Be happy!

Among Other Things: The Supernatural Series
Volume One: Angels Forward
My study of the supernatural has always been apart of me. So much so, that I'm quite sure it never truly started, it was always just sort of there. And to tell the truth, no one ever really believes me. Well, accept Rosco.that's my four year old blood hound. Loyal dog and my best friend. Then there's Rosco's better half my seven year old niece Anya. Anya and Rosco have always been friends; I swear they even watch television together. How Scooby-Doo can be a blood hound's favorite TV show, I'll never know.
Anyways, my most recent assignment: Angels. That venture had begun with a recollection I'd had a few nights before in the form of a dream.
When I was four I remember my grandfather had a heart attack. I'd been right there too. He'd been talking to me while opening the door to the kitchen. I, as usual, had been staring up at him with complete fascination as he rattled on about encountering a bear in the woods, when suddenly he just grabbed his chest and fell face first on the hard wood floor. My mouth formed a perfect 'o' in my shock and I fell to my knees, tears brimming just below my pupils.
"Grapa, Grapa pease you 'ave to ge' up!" my childish voice pleaded as I tugged at his sleeve harshly, my juvenile tongue sloppily shaping the words as best as it could. "Pease! Pease ge' up!" I sobbed. Finally I fell back from my knees into a sitting position and just sat there crying, my cumbersome hands desperately trying to make my tears disappear. Suddenly I felt the warmth of the sunshine streaming in through the window behind me grow stronger. Sniffling, I turned around. A woman smiled down at me. She was in what I wasn't sure whether to call a pool of rags and sheets or an elegant gown. A giant pair of ashen gray wings arched from just behind her shoulders all the way around to me and down to almost the floor. The feathers started out as white and got darker and darker closer to their tips, like rain clouds.
I blinked.
"My Grapa fell." I sniffled again and pointed at his fallen form. Her smile grew and so did the warmth of the light around her. She reached down and took my tiny hands in her own slender ones, helping me to my feet. Sniffing yet again, I wiped my eyes.
"He won't ge' up." I persisted. "Can you make 'im ge' up?" my big shiny bronze eyes stared up at her. Her smile only softened. Her hair fell around her face as she cocked her head to one side, the tips of her fingers gently lifting my chin.
"Don't cry." Her voice was like moon light, "He is not yet lost." She walked past me and her hand fell to her side. Kneeling beside him, she lowered her ear to his chest listening for a heart beat. I stepped closer and watched her. Equally fascinated with her and what ever it was she was doing. She pressed a hand to his heart and a ball of golden light seemed to pass from her hand into his chest. I could hear it start beating again, the blood pumping through him triumphantly. He coughed and stirred, then sat up. I ran to him, immediately beside him on the floor and helping him to his feet. I looked around to thank her, but the mysteriously winged woman was gone.

Twenty years later

"Hey Rebecca." I looked up and smiled at the welcomed face before me. Dorian, my co-worker. Her shining brown eyes looked at me expectantly. She held a coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other while pressing that same arm to her chest concurrently, to keep a few spare documents from getting away from her.
"Here, let me help you with that." I offered leaning forward and taking the case and coffee cup. She sighed.
"Thanks sweetie. Sometimes I wonder what I'd do with out you."
I smiled and put her things on her desk.
"So, what have we got today?" she asked looking up at me once more.
"Take a look at this." I handed her a stack of old news paper article clippings. She went through them, her eyebrows rising all the more with every headline.
"'Cancer Patient Touched By an Angel'.'Law Student's Prayers Answered'.'Holy Ghost Visits East Cost'.'L.A. Really the City of Angels'.Becca what are you doing now?" she whined.
"Isn't it obvious? Angels, I'm going to expose angels."
"To who? The Catholic church?"
I scowled at her and snatched my clippings away.
"There's evidence." I protested in a breathy growl.
"Like.those.?" she said, referring to my articles. Dorian looked at me like it was already a lost cause. She sighed and sat down on my desk.
"Sweetie, I think you've been watching too much Buffy."
I looked away from her, suddenly concentrated on the wall.
"Vampire slayers have nothing to do with Angels." I grumbled.
She pause for a moment, then out of no where, "Have you been eating properly?"
"Dori!" I got up this time and went to the back to get some coffee for myself.
"Well they say malnourishment can cause these things to go to your head." She followed me.
"Do I look malnourished to you?"
She stared at me.
"You have bags."
"I do not have bags under my eyes." I objected.
"Do too."
"Do not," I rolled my eyes, frustrated, "Dori! I am completely sane, I am completely sober, and I am not on drugs! I know these things exist!"
She stared at me unmoved.
"How? How do you know? And by the way, if they do exist why don't you go to church on Sundays?"
"Because I can't stand the congregation."
"Sure.anyways, where are you supposed to start, and what has you believing in these things anyways?"