Crack Ships Galore
Chris meets and angel when he's twenty-two and makes the best of it, even if the angel has a crush on his daughter when he's forty-seven.
“Y’all be idiots.”
He reached for his gun and aimed.
“Your safety’s on, darlin’.” The girl tossed her dark hair over her shoulder.
He clicked the safety. “I don’t know you.”
“Yeah.” Her fingers dug into the deep blue comforter on his bed and she purred. “This is really soft. What kind of softener do you buy?”
Chris gritted his teeth. Her face swam in his memory, maybe someone he spoke to on a train or in a store. Though, the azure streaks in her hair forced him to wonder exactly where. Her leather boots hovered over the edge of the bed as she sprawled propped up with pillows he hadn’t heard crinkling as she moved them. Chris pulled up image after image of what young women wore trying to place her.
“Are you a friend of Kate’s?”
“Nope.” She popped the “p” with a smirk. “Don’t really want to be either.”
Nothing could be that amusing when it came to his sister, the little lightening storm. Chris dragged around his mind for names and faces of who could have gotten into the home while his sister and father were gone. The woman sighed before turning to tinker with his alarm clock.
He crushed the feeling of discomfort at the thought. “Who are you?”
“I feel like I’m finally getting how it all went down without your knowledge. You seriously need to pay attention.” A few nobs of Chris’ clock twisted and the mechanic piece jumped out of her hands sounding an alarm, only to fall back into her grasp and go silent. “Angel.”
Katie had a friend named Angel, but she introduced a blonde and scrappy girl, much like herself. The girl, dressed in dark colors and looking like a character out of Tron, was not that girl.
“Why are you here, Angel?” Angel tilted her head to one side until Chris heard an audible crack.
“Not ‘Who?’ but ‘What?’.” Light flared out behind her, casting a dark shadow over the back wall. “I’m an angel and I’m here to make sure you don’t do something stupid.”
Chris fired.
“Seriously?” The girl held up the side of her leather jacket for inspection. “This hole is going to be a pain to fix.”
He looked beyond her and found his bullet embedded in his wall, stuck like it had gone straight through her. She smirked and wiped her hand over the hole, wiping away any evidence he shot her, including the hole.
Chris felt his eyes widen and “What are you?”
“An angel, we went over this. Put that gun away. If I wanted you dead you would be dead. Counter-productive because I would be violating about fifty rules if I did.”
She snapped her fingers. “Now, I need you to listen to me. There’s a guy in your English 101 class. His name is Peter. I need you to tell him that you’re willing to meet.”
Chris thought back to the lecture hours before. A familiar sharp-jawed, bright-eyed face came to memory. Peter sat in the same row and always had a sharp grin and witty comment. Peter Hale was the darling and bane of the class for sticking it to the man and giving them more essays. He also made sure Chris ran to buy bottles of lube and tissues on a weekly basis.
“Why?”
She sighed, sitting upright. “If you don’t, twenty people will die. Five of those will be under 18. Twelve of them will be human.”
Chris put his gun down, mindful to keep it in reach. “And him?”
She shrugged, pursing her lips into a pout. “I can’t tell you that, darlin’, but I can tell you he will be grateful.”
“So I just need to talk to him?”
She nodded. “Talk to him so you can talk to his sister.”
Talia Hale. She ran the Preserve and Hale estate. Chris wanted to slap himself because her charity had graced the page of the paper just last week. Save the wolves. They were…
“Honey.” Angel waved her hand in front of his face. “I need you with me on this. You have to do it.”
“Or people will die?” Twenty dead on his conscience if it went wrong.
“People will die. Good people who did nothing deserving.” The girl nodded with her words. “And all of it is preventable.”
All he had to do was talk to a werewolf and convince it to let him see his sister who was, oh, an alpha werewolf with a reputation for castrating men in court. Great. Nothing could go wrong.
Chris narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. “What makes you say he’ll let me do it?”
“Angels know almost everything.” She rolled her dark blue eyes. “And I know for a fact that he would ask you out for milkshakes if you would just give him the time of day.”
His chest tightened with something that felt like hope. “Even if I’m a hunter.”
Angel shrugged. “He has a danger kink.”
A bubble formed in his stomach and Chris laughed. Not manic, not afraid. No. Hale had a danger kink and an interest in Chris. What irony…
He wiped a tear from his eye and leveled with her. “What kind of God does this?”
“The kind that is on vacation and left me in charge of your case. An angel needs to earn her name some way.”
She winked and vanished.
=
“So…” Allison raised an eyebrow at her father. “You’re telling me that an angel stepped in and told you to talk to Papa?”
Peter levelled him with the same expression mixed with a little humor. How Allison managed to be Peter’s daughter without being Peter’s was a question he would never have the answer to. Chris leaned back in his chair trying to ignore the feeling that everyone in the house was listening.
“Yes.”
“Bullshit.” Allison crossed her arms over her chest, falling back into the soft cushions of the couch.
“That does explain quite a bit.” Peter placed his hand over Chris’ with a smirk when the man gave him an incredulous look. “You wouldn’t have spoken to me otherwise.”
“I wouldn’t have known you were interested otherwise.” All very true.
Allison looked between her fathers. “Did you ever see her again?”
Chris wondered the same. Had he just over looked the angel standing in the background to his life? Or had she never shown up again?
“No.”
“Yes.”
Allison swung, arm flying in an arc for the young woman’s face.
The woman caught the arm, smiling a little. She dropped it and flicked her now un-dyed hair over her shoulder.
Allison stared, cheeks pinking at the sight of dark leather and a warm face. “Who?”
The girl winked. “An angel who doesn’t need her wings but does need a cute huntress in her life.”
Chris wiped his hand over his face. “Stop flirting with my daughter.”
“I will if she doesn’t like it.” The girl turned to Allison, taking in the pink cheeks and a small smile. “She likes it.”
She held out her hand for Chris to shake.
“My name is Malia. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
I'm sorry. I fail-ficced.I'll rewrite this better sometime.
