Moments; singular, siphoned, like grains of sand which fall restlessly, and build without limits...growing with increasing momentum, each step, beat, a steady staccato , marking down the minutes until the cold inevitability of the ...end ...death.
M...
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Turns out that there isn't a lot you have to do to get ready for a jaunt to Tir na nOg. I always thought you had to close up the house, you know, take out the dirty trash, fill the dishwasher, have someone figure out your mail, that sorta thing. Then again, I've never really been on a vacation before (not that this was a vacation mind you) but I'd never been on one in the first place. But no, I hadn't been to my apartment in days, there was no dirty trash to worry about. As for everything else, Garrett said he'd take care of everything, including keeping the Captain informed. Garrett was just too good to me, even now. I needed to find him a nice girl. There was that girl in forensics, I'd caught her peeking at him a time or two and she—no, no—when had I decided to play matchmaker. Bad, bad, Annora, you have enough on your mind right now. You do not need to add Garretts love life to the ever growing list. "Just so, amour," Chamuel nods at me. "Not that I do not agree that Goodson should have the right mate in his life. But we do not have time to worry over it right now. Additionally...the Graces have not deemed it his time yet, as it is." I blink. So much to mull over in those two sentences he'd just uttered. "The Graces have already matched Garrett?" "Did we not just agree that this is not the time for such a discussion?" Chamuel says with a smile on his beautiful face. "I...uh..." I stammer and then point at him. "I agreed, with MYSELF! You just sorta butted in. I didn't agree with you on anything, buster." "Who is buster?" Chamuel asks, clearly bewildered. Walker laughs. "You are, you're the buster." Walker shakes his head in amusement. "Still haven't gotten used to human slang, have you, birdie?" "I do not think I like this human slang of yours." Chamuel says softly. I shrug. "Well, get used to it, Chamuel. I tend to use it a lot, almost as much as I swear." "We are working on that, though, amour." "—Again, WE aren't working on anything. You've rooted through my head, and put words into my mouth. That doesn't count as working together, Chamuel, that just counts as ridiculously rude and intrusive." Walker laughs harder now and slaps his thigh. "She's got you there, birdie." Chamuel narrows his eyes at Walker before turning to me again. "I've already apologized for the 'rooting' I am working on it," at the look on my face, he nods, "I am, truly, working on it, my amour, it is very difficult for me. This is all very 'new' for me. I haven't been to this plane in longer than I can remember, and it has been even longer than that since I've had any interactions with human beings, let alone, the one who is meant to be mine. I am, what is it that humans say, 'learning as I go,' correct?" I nod. "Yeah, we say that." He made a lot of sense. I suppose I could cut him a little slack. After all HE HAD negotiated a meeting with the King of the Light Court for us. He was rather handy to have arrive, not to mention ridiculously pretty to look at. I slap a hand over my mouth when I see the huge smile that crosses Chamuel's face. FUCK! Not like slapping a hand over my mouth was going to do any good. I should slap my head instead, but fuck if that would just hurt not help things at all. I drop my head into my hands and sigh. "You heard all of that, didn't you," I mumble through my hands. "Should I pretend that I didn't?" Chamuel asks me. I lift my head, and shake it. "No...No...just forget it. You heard it. I need to deal with a few things myself. Okay then, I look around. Anything we should know before we all go?" Chamuel sighs. He looks pointedly at where Walker is holding Bento in his arms. The cat looks ridiculously comfortable, his head resting against Walker's arm. "That thing has to stay." "No." Walker shakes his head. "Bento just got back. He needs the connection right now, and so do I. Where I go, Bento does." "You cannot bring—" "—I read somewhere that the Fae love animals. That their Goddess is particularly fond of them, and therefore so are they. Bento stays with me." Chamuel's lips thin but he nods. "Fine, fine the creature can come with us." "Familiar, Chamuel, he's a familiar. And what do you have against him anyway? You're an angel, don't you like, uh, love everything?" "A very big assumption on the part of humans, my amour. As angels we do not have to love everything and everyone. There are many sorts of angels, my beloved. As you can see, I certainly don't love your Mr. Romanoff over there. As for his familiar, I have nothing personally against him, he however, seems not to be overly fond of me." I reach out and scratch Bento behind his ear, and he purrs. "Ohhhhh, Bento is a big, guess I should say, big little softie. It just takes him a little while to get used to someone new." "He loved you immediately, my darling," Walker interjects and I give him a nasty look that says 'NOT NOW.' "I suppose I can try to get along with the thing...I mean...with the familiar." "Thank you, Chamuel. I'd appreciate that. So, as I was saying, is there anything we need to do before we go?" Chamuel suddenly gets this look on his face, and it worries me. "Chamuel? You have a very strange look on your face...it's uh...beginning to worry me. What's wrong? Is something wrong? Should we...should we not be going?" "No...no...that is not is, my amour, that is not it at all." He sighs deeply. "Oh my beloved how I wish I could spare you this journey." "What journey? Going to Tir na nOg? Hey how bad can it really be." "That," Chamuel says with a severe expression upon his beautiful face, "...Is not the journey I speak of." He slings his bow over his shoulder, sheaths his sword and holds out his hands. "Now, take my hands, and prepare yourself. The first time...it is not always pleasant."
