Book I: Avi's Angel

Gabriel's Education

"More songwriting sessions today?" they asked, deftly creating his man bun while he ate. It was similar to the way she'd worn her hair when she was alive; except instead of letting the "tail" flop over the top, he preferred it curling beneath the bun. She personally disliked the feel of hair poking the back of her neck, but his hair was far softer than hers had been.
   :Careful, envy is a sin,: Gabriel teased.
   :Why should I be jealous? I get to play with it every day.: She hummed a little, happy in her work.
   Avi reached across the table for one of the omnipresent notebooks, nearly upsetting his drink. They saved it from spilling, removed his plate, and set about washing it before Kevin woke up.
   They returned to the table, where he was scrawling furiously. It was sheet music, which didn't surprise them. They'd all been writing, jamming, and recording ever since they'd decided to do an original album. What did surprise her was what he was jotting down.
   :Oh. Um... Oops. Maybe I should stick to their older songs. I'm guessing they hadn't written that part yet?:
   He "shrugged". :How would I know? You're supposed to be the expert.:
   :Well, no fangirl can be expected to know when songs were written; especially if they're writing tons of music at once!:
   He didn't seem terribly concerned. :'Tis a very minor alteration, presuming 'twas not originally his contribution.:
   :I suppose...: She wasn't altogether convinced, so she resolved to be more careful in the future--or past, as it was for her.
   :Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey...:
   "I like your hair down," Avi said unexpectedly. He seemed to have finished copying down her quantum slip-up. She'd forgotten to put it back in braids after the pixie incident, which was a shame. Now, because he said he liked it better down, it would seem petty to change it back. She compromised by putting two skinny braids at their temples, to keep it out of their face. She'd never mastered the technique in life, but when you changed your hairstyle with a thought, anything was possible.
   "I have a question."
   It didn't sound too serious, so they said "We may have an answer."
   "Do you get to wear colors other than white because you're a Guardian Angel? Like, do only archangels have to wear all white, or what?"
   They laughed, since her angelic half was an archangel! "Many of us wear colors, but when you are a being of light, it tends to look white no matter what. Put a colored ribbon in a spotlight, and all you see is the bright light."
   "Huh. I guess I never thought about the whole 'inner light' thing..."
   "That is because in human parlance, 'tis a metaphor. For us, it is very literal."
   Kevin wandered out, effectively ending the discussion. He ate cereal in a trance, apparently chasing a beat of his own. He made a few notations on his own pad as ideas came to him. Then he left his bowl in the sink and went back to his room, presumably to dress for the day's jam session.
   Avi rolled his eyes, would have gotten up to wash the bowl if his angel hadn't stopped him.
   "Go brush your teeth. We'll clean up."
   He gave her a one-armed hug before following orders.
   :Still not seeing anything legendary about his hugs.:
   :Dude, that wasn't the kind of hug girls swoon over. That was a half hug, if anything. I'm sure we'll see a legendary hug soon enough. Be patient.:
   :Did you just "soon" me? I thought you lot hated that word.:
   She smirked. :And I thought you lot loved that word!:
   :I would not say "love". I would say that we grow accustomed to it, as much as Dad throws the word around.:
   She knew that well enough! Many of her prayers had resulted in the dreaded "soon".
   :For the record, I bought two #soon shirts. I don't hate the word either. I've had to radically accept its ambiguity, no matter who uses that word.:
   :Radically accept?: He wasn't familiar with the concept.
   :It's a coping mechanism. I'm sure you use it all the time. It's basically the Serenity Prayer.:
   :Oh, that.:
   :Yup.: "And we're off!" she said to the freshly scrubbed Avi. "But then, we've always been a little off."
   He laughed.
   :My Gran used to say that to us.:
   :I know.:
   She rolled her eyes. :Of course you do.:

   The next couple of months were packed with everything from songwriting and recording, to interviews promoting their upcoming tour. They were keeping details about their new album close to the vest, talking instead about "That's Christmas to Me". It was doing well; better than the band had anticipated. They decided to include the title song in their tour, as an encore.
   Whenever Avi needed to get his creative juices flowing, he would ask for his "stunt blade", as he was calling it, and practice. He was getting good enough that they began throwing illusory foes at him. She restricted their involvement severely, because her angelic half had developed a strange sense of humor where physical contact was concerned.
   :No,: she had to say one time. :That is not a hug. That is known in wrestling lingo as a half nelson.:
   After a movie night that included "the Matrix", she had to laugh. :This just looks like a game of winged Twister. Sorry dude.:
   He seemed to delight in putting her in awkward or embarrassing positions, and she kept trying to avoid them. It was like a twisted version of chess.
   Avi wasn't helping matters at all. He was becoming more... familiar than she was entirely comfortable with. It was little things: a touch on the elbow or waist, more hugs than she felt were warranted, and worst of all, he'd begun dropping kisses on their face and neck.
   :I fail to see why that bothers you,: Gabriel said after the first time he kissed their neck. :You like him.:
   :It's starting to feel like he thinks we're dating.:
   He laughed. :You overreact. He kisses the other band members, too. What makes us different? Honestly, I think it would be more strange if he did not throw us a kiss every now and then.:
   She dropped a fork in the drainer with more force than necessary.   
   :One, he kisses us more frequently than anybody else--:
   :Because we spend more time with him than anyone else,: he pointed out rationally.
   :Secondly, he does not, I repeat not put his arms around them and kiss their necks!:
   He was momentarily nonplussed. :I did not realize how complex kissing could be.:
   :Hugs, too. The one we just got is the kind usually reserved for... mates.:
   He reeled back in shock. :Surely not! I am certain he has hugged his sister similarly.:
   She felt genuine sadness for her poor, disillusioned angel. :The Devil's in the details.: He wasn't fond of the expression, and she knew it. She needed to shock some sense into her surprisingly naïve copilot, for her own sanity.
   :When you hug a sibling from behind, there is a polite distance between hips and buttocks. You don't press full-length, however briefly. And if you happen to kiss their neck, instead of their cheek, you do not linger there!:
   He considered her words for all of ten seconds before his sense of humor rebounded. :Maybe his sister does not shiver when he kisses her.:
   :I should hope not!:
   :Perhaps we should not react next time, hmm?:
   :Easy for you to say! Maybe we should do something especially angelic, to remind him that we are off-limits.:
   :Are we?:
   She spluttered far longer than it took him to ponder the intricacies of intimacy. :A dead woman and an angel of the Lord?! Yes!!!:
   :Interesting.:
   :Infuriating!: she shot back.
   Her other half continued to allow these little intimacies, no matter how strenuously she objected. He saw no harm in it.
   :You both remain clothed,: he would point out.
   :When ye wear a dress, that doesn't mean much...:
   :They are robes,: he asserted for perhaps the fiftieth time.
   :Keep telling yourself that, my feathered friend.:
   He seemed startled the first time she called him that. :Am I?:
   :What, my friend? Yeah, of course!:
   :Are you sure it is not simply because I can see and hear you?:
   She laughed, but it was a sad sound. :Naw, I'm more picky than that.:
   A wave of positive emotions washed over her. He did not have the words to express his gratitude, his genuine enjoyment in having a friend who didn't have to like him.
   :You're welcome,: she said, returning the happy thoughts.