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The Kindness of Strangers	By : Kittenmommy Category: M through R > Prophecy, The Views: 1453 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Prophecy movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
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“The
Kindness of Strangers”

Chapter
2

“A
Good Gossip Session”

Gabriel
heard voices – an Irishwoman, an American man, and an Italian
man – arguing in furious whispers. An Englishman butted
in – be quiet, for God’s sake!

Blackness.

He
was lying on something soft.

He
was on his stomach, his head on a pillow and turned to one side and
his wings unfurled to their full span. Someone was pulling his
boots off his feet.

“You
can’t undress him – it’s a sin!” the
Irishwoman protested.

“You
said the same thing when I stretched out his wings to dry,” the
Englishman reminded her.

“Well,
touching his wings – that’s a sin too!”

“As
you like,” the Englishman said, unwilling to argue about it.

“And
undressing him – ah, that’s even worse!”

“It
is?” The Englishman asked, amused. “Where in the
Bible does it say all that?” Gabriel felt hands tugging at his
cloak, trying to pull it off.

The
Irishwoman was silent for a moment. “Undressing an angel…
well, it has to be a sin, doesn’t it?” she asked
rhetorically. “And he’s Saint Gabriel the
Archangel, too – oooo, you’ll be goin’ straight to
Hell for this!”

“I’m
a doctor,” the Englishman reminded her. “So it’s
all right.”

“But
he’s – ”

“He’s
my patient!” the Englishman snapped, his patience
finally at an end. “And lying in wet clothing certainly
won’t help speed his recovery along! Now, either help me
figure out how to get this off him or get out of the way!”

“That’s
fine with me, Doctor. I want no part of this at all!”

Gabriel
closed his eyes.

Blackness.

He
was being shaken awake. He opened his eyes and saw softly
curling red hair.

“Simon,”
he murmured.

“Ah,
no… ‘tis only me,” the Irishwoman said. He
managed to focus on her face and realized that he knew her, somehow…
didn’t he? His eyes slipped shut.

Blackness.

More
voices. It was the Englishman and the Irishwoman again.

“When
was the last time you woke him?”

“An
hour ago, just as you said,” she replied. “Every
hour on the hour, those were your instructions.”

“All
right. I’ll sit with him a bit – you get some
rest.”

Blackness.

The
Word blazed through his mind like a ribbon of fire. He opened
his eyes and tried to blink the brightness away only to realize that
it was sunlight coming in through a window.

He
was lying on his stomach on a king-sized bed, with his now dry wings
spread out on either side of his body. He turned his head the
other way and saw Maureen, now dressed in a Carnival tee shirt and a
pair of jeans, sitting in a chair by the bed, asleep.

He
closed his eyes again for a moment. Yes, The Word was a
constant pulse in the back of his mind, filling him, reshaping his
brain, making him what he was: an angel, the Messenger of God.

The
Boss hadn’t deserted him after all, and he felt a moment’s
deep shame for ever even considering that as a possibility.
Gabriel was His angel, and He would never abandon him.

He
pushed himself up onto his knees, shook his wings out and folded them
neatly behind him. He realized that he was dressed only in a
pair of blue sweatpants with red and white pinstripes on the sides,
and he wondered briefly what had happened to his clothing.
Carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping nurse, he got off the bed
and went to examine his new surroundings.

He
had been given a stateroom – a very comfortable, very large one
with a picture window by the bed and a door that led out to a
balcony. Near the coffee table were two armchairs with backs
that looked like they’d be comfortable for perching on, as well
as an L-shaped modular sofa. There was an enormous wardrobe and
various other cupboards for storage. A large television was
built into the wall directly over one such cupboard.

Moving
through the suite, he discovered a fully equipped bar, another large
closet, and a bathroom.

On
the bathroom counter was a basket full of sample-sized amenities:
toothpaste, disposable razors, mouthwash, toothbrushes, hand lotion,
and various other toiletries.

He
peered critically at his image in the mirror, frowned, and touched
the white bandage on the top of his head. He pulled it off,
wincing a bit as a few strands of shiny black hair were yanked out by
the adhesive. He touched the top of his head, but his probing
fingers found no evidence of either the wound or the stitches.
He had healed completely, and was surely well enough to travel, to
deliver his Message.

Unfortunately,
he was dressed only in a pair of Carnival sweatpants; hardly
appropriate attire for the Messenger of God. And he smelled
like a chlorinated pigeon. All in all, this was not exactly the
image he had hoped to present to the human he was supposed to see.

He
picked up a little bar of soap in a box with the Carnival logo on it,
cocked his head and stared thoughtfully at the tiny shower.
Though it clearly hadn't been built with seraphim in mind, he thought
there might be ways around that…

*****

Though
it had taken him nearly thirty minutes, Gabriel was clean at last.

He
had rinsed the chlorinated saltwater residue out of his wings (one
wing at a time), and then allowed them to drip all over the bathroom
floor while he squeezed his body into the narrow little shower
stall. At one point, Maureen had pounded on the bathroom door,
demanding to know what he thought he was doing: You have a head
injury, don’t you know?

Either
the door between them or concern about his condition had overridden
her previous state of awestruck reverence, for she had even
threatened to have a cabin steward come and break down the door if he
didn’t answer her.

Though
he had loudly assured her that he was fine, he could even now hear
her pacing around outside, complaining to Doctor Langford that he’d
locked the door and wouldn’t let her in!

With
a slight smile, Gabriel wrapped one of the big white towels around
his waist, ran a hand through his damp hair, and opened the door.

“Good
morning, Roger… Maureen.”

Maureen
and Doctor Langford gaped at him in astonishment. “Sorry
about the bathroom… the water on the floor. He gestured
vaguely as he came out into the stateroom. “I couldn’t
shut the curtain… so there’s water…” He
shrugged. “It’s a mess.”

“My
goodness… Gabriel. You’re… you’re all
– ” the doctor stammered, and gave a quick laugh.
“You’re looking much better this morning,” he
finally said. Behind him, Maureen bowed her head and crossed
herself, her lips moving as she prayed silently.

“Yeah,”
Gabriel agreed. “I told you I’d be fine last night,
right?”

”But…
you were nearly comatose!” Doctor Langford continued, still
trying to make sense of this. “I was just on the phone
down in the Infirmary, trying to arrange an MRI for you!”

“Ahhh,
I don’t need that,” Gabriel said dismissively. “I
don’t even know what that is. My head’s fine now,
all healed. Look, those stitches you gave me went away.”
He bent his head so that the doctor could see.

“Your
body’s absorbed them,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“Fast metabolism.”

“Yeah,
that’s what you said last night.”

“Are
you hungry?” the doctor asked.

Gabriel
shrugged. “Yeah, I could eat. Right now I’m
more interested in what happened to my clothes.”

“’Twas
Doctor Langford who undressed you,” Maureen put in suddenly,
speaking for the first time. “I want us to be perfectly
clear on that.”

The
doctor sighed. “I’ll take all the blame for
everything,” he agreed. “And I was the one who
stretched your wings out so they’d dry.”

“I
don’t care about that stuff,” Gabriel said dismissively.
“I just need my clothes, you know?”

“Well,
actually – ” Doctor Langford began.

Gabriel
made a guess. “That priest – Francis – he
took them, didn’t he?”

“Oh,
he’d have loved to, you can be sure!” Maureen said
angrily. “But no. He wanted your beach towel –
you’d bled on it and he said it’s a Holy Relic.”

Gabriel
rolled his eyes and made an exasperated little noise at this news.

“But
Ben took it,” Maureen continued, sounding a bit smug.
“Took it straight to the Purser’s Desk and paid for it,
too. So you don’t have to worry about it bein’
displayed at the Vatican or some other nonsense.”

“As
for your clothes,” the doctor interrupted. “I sent
them to be dry-cleaned.”

“Aaaah,
you didn’t have to – ” Gabriel began.

“You’ll
have them back by the time we sail,” Doctor Langford assured
him. “And then… well, I suppose you can be on your
way.”

Gabriel
frowned. “We stopped somewhere?”

“That’s
right. We’ve docked at Messina, Sicily for the day.”

“Ah
ha! I thought we weren’t moving!” Gabriel
said happily.

“You’re
right – we’re not,” the doctor agreed.
“Today’s Messina, then tomorrow’s a Fun Day at Sea
– ”

“Which
is a nice way of saying, ‘you’ll be trapped on the boat
all day, ‘cause we’re sailin’ to yer next port’!”
Maureen put in.

Gabriel
laughed. “’Fun Day at Sea’ has a nicer ring
to it,” he agreed.

“And
your personal effects are right there,” Doctor Langford said,
pointing at the nightstand. “I didn’t let Father
Xavier get his hands on any of that, either.”

“Thanks,
Roger – that was good thinking.” He frowned.
“Wait a minute… my trumpet – ”

“I
sent it to have it cleaned,” the doctor said, and shrugged.
“I don’t know much about caring for musical instruments,
but it seemed like a good idea.”

“Yeah,
getting dipped in a saltwater pool wouldn’t be too good for
it,” Gabriel agreed.

“You
probably don’t remember much about last night, do you?”

Gabriel
shook his head. “Bits and pieces. That’s
about it.”

Doctor
Langford nodded. “That’s to be expected.”

“You
just came falling out of the sky,” Maureen told him. “Ben
and I had just come from dinner and a show. We’d picked
up Brigid from Camp Carnival and were going for a piece of pizza when
we heard some kind of shriek and next thing we knew, there you were,
in the pool. Someone tried to pull you out, but yer wings were
too heavy… but at least they got you halfway out so you
wouldn’t drown.”

“And
then I woke up.”

She
nodded. “Soon after, yeah. I was afraid you were
dead, but a braver soul than I checked and said, no, you were
breathing.”

“When
you lost consciousness again, we took you straight down to the
Infirmary,” Doctor Langford said, picking up the story.
“But we couldn’t fit you into any of the beds… the
wings, you know.”

Gabriel
nodded. “Sure.”

“And
the nurses – ” the doctor rolled his eyes and sighed.

“They
were useless,” Maureen finished.

“Yes,
that about sums it up,” he agreed. “You never saw
such carrying on, Gabriel. It was simply unbelievable.”

”They’re
mostly Italian,” Maureen added.

“They
were dropping to their knees and praying… and weeping…”
He made an exasperated noise. “I couldn’t get them
to do anything useful! All they wanted to do was pray.
So Terry – he’s our cruise director – arranged for
this lovely suite, and we brought you right up here. Maureen
very kindly consented to help take care of you. She’s as
devout as they come, but at least she kept her head.”

Gabriel
smiled at her. “Thank you, Maureen.”

She
bowed her head. “I was happy to do it!”

Gabriel
walked around, stopping every once in a while to inspect whatever
caught his eye. There was a newsletter on the coffee table, and
he picked it up to examine it. “Carnival Capers,”
he read aloud.

“That’ll
tell you what’s happening today,” the doctor informed
him.

“All
the news that’s fit to print,” Gabriel murmured
ironically as he thumbed through the Capers. “Huh.
Bingo in the lounge at three. Maybe I’ll go… you
know, try my luck.”

“You
wouldn’t!” Maureen exclaimed, shocked.

“I
got you!” he said, smiling and pointing at her. “Ha!”

“’Tisn’t
a bit funny,” she muttered, and put a hand over her
mouth. “Oh!” Her eyes widened and she
hurriedly crossed herself – surely contradicting the Archangel
Gabriel was a sin!

“Let’s
get some food, hmm? I think we could all use something to eat!”
Doctor Langford said, picking up the phone. “What would
you like, Gabriel?”

“Coffee
– with cream and sugar,” he said right away, and then
thought for a bit. “Doughnuts. Danishes.
Fruit. Anything sweet – you know, with sugar.”

“Is
that what angels usually eat?” the doctor asked curiously.

“Nah.
But right now I need sugar… spontaneous tissue regeneration
takes a lot of you, you know?”

“I
wish I did!” Doctor Langford said ruefully. “All
right, one sugar rush coming up!” He began punching
buttons on the phone.

“Oh…
and how about another pair of those blue pants?” Gabriel asked,
and gestured in the direction of the bathroom. “That
other pair’s dirty. And wet.”

*****

There
was a knock at the door, but it wasn’t breakfast. It was
Father Xavier. The little priest came hurrying into the room,
his eyes widening when he saw that Gabriel was up, about, and dressed
only in a white towel. He quickly collected himself and knelt
at Gabriel’s feet.

“How
may I serve you?” he asked, crossing himself and bowing his
head.

“C’mon…
stop that,” Gabriel said, grasping the priest’s shoulders
and pulling him to his feet. “OK?”

“If
you insist,” Father Xavier said, not daring to look Gabriel in
the eye.

“Yeah,
I insist. That gets old real fast… especially when I
don’t have any clothes on!”

Father
Xavier blushed deeply. Doctor Langford laughed, and Maureen
fought an unsuccessful battle to stifle her own laughter.

“Here,”
Gabriel said, steering the priest over to the sofa. “Have
a seat. You’re making me nervous.”

There
was a tapping sound coming from the balcony, and Maureen went to
investigate.

“There’s
a man on the balcony,” she reported in a disbelieving voice.
“And how he got out there I’ll never know… but it
seems he wants in, for he’s knockin’ on the door!”

“Who
is it?” Gabriel asked, not sounding very interested.

“I’ve
no idea.” She peered at their unlikely visitor through the
glass that separated them. “He’s blond, with a
goatee. He’s got a long black coat – goodness, but
he must be hot out there! – and he’s wavin’ a stick
with a white flag on it.”

Gabriel
laughed. “Let him in.”

“All
right,” she agreed, and opened the door.

“Well
– hello, Gabriel,” the new arrival purred, sweeping
grandly into the room. “How’s every little thing?”

Gabriel
gave him a look. “I think you know.”

With
a frown, Maureen went to sit on the sofa with the priest.
Doctor Langford stood leaning against the wall, his arms folded
across his chest.

“Boy,
are you grouchy, Gabriel!” their new guest observed.
“But then, you never were much of a morning person, were you?”

“Do
you want something, or are you just here to gloat?”

“Gloating’s
always fun.” The visitor smirked. “Nice
towel, by the way.” He turned his attention to Doctor
Langford. “It’s a sin, you know… lusting
after an angel.” He moved toward the doctor, still
talking. “But you know all about unnatural lust,
don’t you, Roger?” His voice dropped lower as he
moved closer. “Even back when you were just a young lad
off at boarding school, you’d lie awake at night, thinking
about the other boys… and knowing it was a sin.”

“Aaah,
cut it out, Lucifer,” Gabriel said, and Maureen and the priest
gasped, crossing themselves simultaneously.

“But
you’ve seen what Gabriel’s got under that towel, haven’t
you?” Lucifer continued as though Gabriel hadn’t even
spoken. “And you think that maybe… maybe it
would be a little less of a sin, hmmm?” He moved
closer yet, putting his hands on the wall on either side of the
human, pinning him to the wall without actually touching him.
He leaned in and whispered something that made the doctor’s
cheeks flush bright with color. “But you know that’s
what you really want, Roger,” Lucifer purred. “And
I can give it to you.”

“Leave
me alone,” Doctor Langford said quietly, angrily – and
Lucifer laughed as he moved away.

Father
Xavier suddenly jumped to his feet, brandishing a crucifix at
Lucifer. “Begone, foul fiend!” he roared. “In
the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy – ”

“Francis,”
Gabriel interrupted. “Stop it, OK? He’s just
here to talk. So sit down.”

Faced
with a direct order from Saint Gabriel the Archangel, the priest had
no choice but to obey… but he didn’t look very happy
about it.

”That’s
right, I’m just here to talk,” Lucifer agreed happily,
and held up his white flag. “See? I’m here
under a flag of truce. I’m calling a temporary cease
fire, all right?” he asked, waving it at the priest in an
exaggerated manner.

“And
you,” Gabriel continued, pointing at Lucifer.
“Behave yourself. You’re already in enough
trouble.”

“Oh,
no – you’re not pinning this on me!” Lucifer
protested. He tossed his flag aside and flopped down on the
sofa between Maureen and the priest, who both recoiled and crossed
themselves again. He either chose to ignore their reaction to
his presence or was simply oblivious to it. “I had
nothing to do with this!” he continued, stretching his arms out
on the back of the sofa and putting his feet up on the coffee table.
Both Father Xavier and Maureen inched away as surreptitiously as they
could manage.

“Jones
did this to you,” Lucifer reminded Gabriel. “And
Jones isn’t one of mine.”

Gabriel
shook his head. “I never know what side he’s on,
that guy.”

“Neither
do I,” Lucifer agreed. “But…”

“But
what?”

Lucifer
glanced around and then leaned forward in his seat. “Listen,”
he began, and lowered his voice as though afraid he might be
overheard. “I had a little chat with Raphael last night –
”

Gabriel
looked surprised. “You did?”

“Yeah.
Seems Uziel’s Upstairs sharpening his knives and muttering
darkly about avenging you.”

“Oh
no,” Gabriel said, dismayed.

“It’s
making Raphael nervous… no one wants another War. Not
even me. So he came for a little chat, to see if I knew who the
culprit was. I knew it wasn’t any of my people,
and so Raphael and I put our heads together – ”

“And
figured out it was Jones,” Gabriel finished.

Lucifer
beamed brightly. “You got it. But it gets better.”

”I’m
afraid to ask!”

“While
I was talking to Raphael, Beliel came to me. He’d been
gossiping with Uriel – ”

“Now
hold on,” Maureen interrupted without thinking. “Are
you tellin’ me that demons and angels get together for a good
gossip session? You can’t be serious!”

Lucifer
turned to her and smiled. “All the time, my dear.
All the time.”

“I
find that very hard to believe,” Father Xavier said stiffly,
and now Lucifer’s brilliant smile was turned on the priest.

“Why?
We were all brothers once, you know. And we may all pretend it
doesn’t happen, but we all know it does. I know what’s
going on Upstairs just as well as Gabriel knows what’s going on
in the basement.”

“Probably,
yeah,” Gabriel agreed. “So, Uriel told Beliel –
”

“You
want me to wrap this up and get out,” Lucifer said, grinning.
“You never were very subtle, Gabriel.”

“I
never said I was. Subtlety just seems like sneaking around to
me… and that’s more your thing, Lucifer.”

“All
right. Uriel told Beliel that the rumor is that Jones was
acting on Orders when he whacked you on the noggin.”

Gabriel
looked astounded at this news. “The Boss had just sent me
out with an important Message… why would he want to keep me
from delivering it? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Lucifer
shrugged. “Don’t ask me, Gabriel. I
don’t make the news, I just report it.”

There
was a knock at the door, and Doctor Langford went to answer it.

It
was a young, handsome, well-tanned blond man in the matching red
white and blue shorts and tee shirt of a Carnival crewmember.
He had a new pair of blue sweatpants draped over one arm and was
pushing a cart piled high with pastries and fruit.

“Hello,
Terry,” the doctor said, looking surprised. “I
didn’t expect you to bring this personally!”

“I
wanted to see the angel,” the blond man said shyly, peeking
past Doctor Langford to stare at Gabriel.

“Yes,
naturally,” Doctor Langford agreed with a sigh. “You
and everyone else on board!” He ushered the young man
into the room. “This is Terry Marshall, our cruise
director.”

“Terry,”
Gabriel acknowledged with a nod. “I see you brought me new
pants!”

“I
did,” the young man agreed, offering them. “Are you
really… really…?”

“Really
what?” Gabriel asked, taking the pants.

Terry’s
voice dropped to a whisper. “Really the Archangel
Gabriel?”

“Yeah,
that’s me.”

Terry
looked awestruck.

“And
I’m really the Archangel Lucifer,” the blond man on the
sofa put in.

Terry
blinked. “You… you’re…” he
sputtered.

Lucifer
grinned gleefully. “The Devil – that’s me!”

“But
you sound so happy about it!” Terry said without
thinking, and Lucifer laughed.

The
fallen angel put a finger to one cheek and mockingly traced the path
of an imaginary tear. “Yes, but I’m crying on the
inside,” he assured the human, and no one present was certain
if it was a joke.

“I
see,” Terry finally said, at a loss for words.

Gabriel
decided that this might be a good time to change his attire. As
he passed the breakfast cart on his way to the bathroom, he grabbed a
doughnut. “Thanks for the food, Terry,” he said
through a mouthful of pastry as he went into the bathroom to change.

*****

AUTHOR'S
NOTES: If you'd like to see the nice suite they gave Gabriel:
http://www.carnival.com/CMS/Staterooms/stateroomdetail_LI_SU.aspx
They even have a virtual tour!
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The Kindness of Strangers