Title: Something’s Gotta Give

Chapter One: You Sure You’re An Angel?

Author Paige Knightly

Notes: Well, for some reason I just got an inspiration to write this story, which is weird since I usually create a storyline first before writing. As a warning the story isn't beta-ed so there might be some grammar and spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy the story!

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"Are you an elf?”

I gaped at the boy and said incredulously, “An elf? What are you talking about, human? Of course I’m not an elf.”

The boy was propped up on the hospital bed, the white sheets folded neatly around him as the machines gave a steady buzz in the background. His thin pale arms were folded on top of the sheets. His blond hair was mused, falling in waves around his head, leaving him with a fragile yet mysterious look. Only one of the boy’s eyes was visible, the other hidden under the sheet of hair, but that one eye was enough to make me shiver as he stared into my eyes with an icy blue eye. He had chiseled features and a cold emotionless expression, making him look more like a statue than an actual living person.

I suppressed a shudder as I stared at the boy. Unlike the countless humans I’ve met this boy didn’t seem afraid of me at all. Usually when humans saw a hooded man holding a large bloody scythe they run screaming in the opposite direction, but this boy just sat stolidly on the bed, without question, without sound, there wasn’t even a flinch when I stepped into the hospital room just moments ago.

The boy cocked his head and gave me a questioning look, “But you have pointed ears.”

I snorted and flipped my hair over a shoulder. “And I also have wings. You know the large two appendages with feathers on the ends? Those are called wings. And do you know what species looks like a human and has wings? Angels, you idiot.”

The boy stared. After a long uncomfortable silence I twitched then asked impatiently, “What?”

"They’re pink,” was the flat response.

I felt my face pinch at the reminder. All the angels in Heaven had white wings. Only those who rebelled against “the superior one” had their wings changed to black, but at one point even fallen angels had white wings. Then there was me – the angel who had the big important job to maintain the equilibrium of life and death. God in all of his shinning glory was in a practically sadistic mood when he created me, the angel of death… with pink wings. Oh no, not only were they pink, but he also decided to add matching pink eyes and gave me “the adorable name, Loki.” I guess I should be thankful that The Almighty only did that, and didn’t bother giving me pink hair. I rather like my waist-long black hair though it is a pain to care for. There’s just something very annoying about waking up at 2am with your hair half strangling you.

I just hope God didn’t hear those last few thoughts. The last time an angel thought-cursed at God, God zapped the angel and turned him into a chicken. And more proof of God’s sadistic tendencies - he locked the angel turned chicken in a metal cage… with a live lion. Crap, I just remembered that dude owned me twenty bucks… Whatever happened to freedom of speech? Oh right, angels don’t have rights, which is why I am in the situation that I’m in.

Do you know how intimidating humans are of me? Let’s just say if humans were to rank me on how scary I was based on my looks then they would probably rate me just above a puppy on the fearfulness scale. Pink wings do not scare people, which just makes my job a hell, opps, I meant a lot more difficult. And do you know what God had to say to my complaints? What my consolation was? He thought I looked cute. Blah! Newborn kittens are cute, puppies who chase their tails in little circles are cute, even those slobbering human babies are cute, the angel of death is not suppose to be cute.

I’m starting to think Lucifer had the right idea rebelling against God. Let’s just say Lucifer got a bit… miffed at God and now he’s the ruler of Hell. His original goal was to take over Heaven, which wasn’t very successful. In fact he did a piss poor job. But the image of him screeching like a girl while a 200-pound frog bitch-slapped him out of heaven will stay in my mind forever. That must have been embarrassing. Poor Luci. But at least he’s his own person now. Heck, he did pretty good for a flunky turned demon king. He rules his own world and has his own minions. True, his minions are some scary sons of bitches with a predisposition towards masochistic and intelligence levels of a pea… okay, maybe that wasn't the best thing to bring up in Lucifer’s favor.

Oh well. While I might entertain the idea I would never rebel against God and get myself kicked out of heaven. Who ever heard of a pink-eyed, pick-winged demon? Anyways, I rather like my five-star condo with the fantastic view of Mount Olympus and a nice quiet God next door who loves to bake cookies. Oh yea, I can practically feel my mouth water as I imagined Buddha’s double chocolate chip fudge cookies. Buddha seems to think that I have violent tendencies. I can’t argue with that.

"...thought the wings were a little girl’s Halloween custom.”

I blinked when I realized that the boy was staring at me with an expectant face. Did he say something?

"Um, yea,” I said stupidly.

The boy lifted an eyebrow before saying in a sarcastic tone, “You’re rather slow aren’t you? You sure you’re an angel?”

"Of course I’m sure,” I shot back.

The boy continued to give me a ‘you’re stupid’ look. Ugh, I hate teenagers. They’re so irritating.

"Look, see here,” I brought out my scythe and showed him the inscriptions. “It says Angel of Death, which is me, moi, comprende?”

The boy looked at the gleaming sword for a long moment before commenting, “I didn’t know Toy ‘R’ Us sells such realistic Lord of the Ring weapons?”

"Ugh, not another Tolkien fan,” I gripped my hair. “I don’t even know why I’m even talking to you. I’m Death, got it? And I’m here to end your short pathetic mortal life and bring you to the Gate of Judgment, Rob.”

"My name’s not Rob.”

"H-Huh?” I stuttered, looking at the fair-faced boy with wide eyes. Tell me I didn’t…

"I’m Alex. Alex Lockhart. You got the wrong person, Wings.”

"You’re not Rob Peterson?”

"No.”

Crap, I did it again. God is not going to be happy that I mixed another person again. This was my third time this month that I mistook a living person for one that was supposed to die. Just last week I accidentally killed an adolescence boy when I mixed his identity with that of an elderly man, and I still haven’t finished all the paperwork for that accident yet. And damn those other angels otherwise known as my peers are still laughing at my back.

I gave a nervous chuckle, running a shaky hand through my hair, and looked up at the boy from under long bangs, “Then I guess you aren’t the person I’m suppose to send to Peter.”

"You’re an idiot,” Alex stated.

I sputtered, unable to think of a comeback. “W-Well, you’re a… a dumb blond.”

Did I just say…

I slapped a hand to my forehead the second the words left my mouth. Like that helped boost my intelligence levels in the boy’s eyes.

"Yes, I am blond,” Alex said slowly as if talking to a small child. “But at least I’m not a pink freak with wings.”

"Hey it’s not like I choose the wing color,” I shouted. “It was God’s perverse idea of humor.”

Alex smirked and crossed his arms across his chest, careful not to dislodge the IV tubes sticking from his arms. “Aren’t angels never to question God and to always honor his actions?”

"...well you’re not very respectful either,” I said lamely. Score two for the boy and zero for the angel.

"I’m Atheist.”

"Why am I not surprised?” I muttered.

Alex raised an eyebrow and I gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. The boy snorted, “You have a name or should I just call you Wings?”

I huffed, “Why should I tell my name to a lowly mortal like you?”

"Whatever, Wings.”

"Don’t call me Wings.”

"Then what do you want me to call you?” Alex asked with a bored expression. “Winged avenger?”

"No!” I shouted in horror. No way was the boy calling me that. “My name’s Loki.”

"Nice to meet you, Loki,” Alex said in an overly sweet voice. “I have a question for you.”

"What?” I asked cautiously. There was a glint in the boy’s eye that had my hairs on end. I think my spider sense is tingling.

"I was just wondering what’s with the outfit. Are you competing in a lord of the rings look-a-like contest?”

I frowned and looked down at my outfit. A long tailed green overcoat embroidered with images of a gold scythe was worn over a tall collared white shirt. Green breeches and knee length brown boots covered the lower half of my body. Over the entire outfit I wore the traditional death angel black cape.

"What’s wrong with it?”

Alex snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘featherbrains.’

Outraged, I took a step closer to the boy then noticed the boy’s blue eye become hazy and unfocused. My foot stumbled, but I quickly caught the end of the bed and pulled myself up, and turned towards the boy. Funny, I usually see that glazed out-of-it look right before I send someone over to Peter. My eyes widened in realization. Total crap.

"H-hey Alex! Snap out of it,” I shouted frantically, shaking the prone body back and forth. “Shit, I’m totally going to get demoted if I kill you too!”

The boy’s head wiped around like a rag doll. His once neat hair was now in disarray. This was so not good.

"What the hell are you doing?”

"W-What?” I looked down and saw Alex’s eye refocus. It was only seconds later I found myself slamming head first into the wooden floors with a loud smack.

Well, I learned my lesson for the day – don’t underestimate fragile little boy toys. But who knew the boy would have such an amazingly accurate swing or that he swung with his left hand.

"Ouch,” I whined, rubbing a finger gingerly on my cheek while shooting wary glances at the boy.

Alex ignored me and proceeded to finger comb his hair into some form of order. Since the second I stepped into the room, I finally got to see his other eye when Alex pulled his hair away from his face. Green.

Weird, humans usually don’t have two different eye colors.

When Alex caught me staring, he dropped his hand and glared at me. Ack, scary pretty boy.

"What are you still doing here?” Alex questioned, hand gripping the arm rail. It might be my imagination but I get the feeling he’s imagining that the rail was my neck.

I countered, “Why would I leave?”

Eep! Alex’s eyes narrowed and somehow, though I thought it impossible, his glare intensified. “Shouldn’t you be off helping another soul pass on such as the person that you mistook me for?”

Oh right. That person.

"But I’m having so much fun with you,” I grinned, flashing him my charming smile. No one can resist my cute and adorable puppy eyes...

Alex continued to glare.

Except for the ice prince here, I thought grumpily, and lost the smile.

Since I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, I threw my body right beside Alex’s, bouncing for a few seconds before settling and turning onto my side with my head propped by my hand. Wow, I thought while I stared at Alex, this boy could really glare.

"I taking a breather,” I told Alex. “The archangels are going to know I made a mistake… you know, almost killing you and all. So there’s no point in continuing my job since I’m going to get punished anyways. I might as well relax now since I won’t be able to in the next few months because I know the archangels are going to overload me with work. It’s their way of punishing wayward angels.”

Alex snorted, “The archangels must have been drunk when they gave the death job to a boy like you.”

"I’m over four hundred years old for your information,” I hissed. I hated being called young. It was the forth thing on my hate list, right above chickens. I lunged at the boy, gripped his shirt, and said in a low tone while shaking him for emphasis. “You’re the only minor here, human.”

"What’s the point of being an old fart if you still look like a fourteen year old boy. I might only be seventeen, but at least I don’t look like some candy-sucker.”

"You know what? Forget about getting into God’s good graces. I think I’ll just kill you now, you annoying little brat,” I growled and slammed him into the bed.

Alex stared at me with unwavering blue and green eyes before asking, “Isn’t the angel of death suppose to be older?”

The comment threw me, shocking me into releasing his shirt.

"Huh?” Was my intelligent answer.

"I thought the death angel was suppose to be over four thousand years old, not four hundred.”

"Oh,” I said. The question effectively distracted me, draining the anger from my body. “The previous death angel decided to go on vacation.”

"Vacation?” Alex lifted an eyebrow.

"Vacation,” I stated, feeling a sheepish expression spread across my face.

"Figures,” Alex smirked. “So you’re the replacement. That makes sense. Where did the other death angel go? Went to France for a nice brown tan and the beautiful beach view of naked girls?”

"...not France… Amsterdam.”

I heard a suspicious cough, which soon erupted into a full-blown laugh. I pouted as Alex fell onto his side, clutching his stomach as he gave loud gasping laughs.

"Am… ster… dam… haha… he… w-went… to… city… sin… haha.”

"It’s not that funny,” I frowned, giving a kick to the boy’s back. Curse him.

"Oh, yes it is,” Alex countered, finally relaxing after his laughing bout. “Who knew that angels could be so much fun.”

While Alex tried to stifle his last chuckles, I said, “Nice to know I can amuse you so.”

Alex laid back with a smirk. He gave me a long look, focused on my wings and ears before saying, “You still look like an elf. You really sure you’re an angel?”

To be continued...