neutral_omens | (no subject)

Date: December 20, 1999 (After the snowball fight)
Setting: Uriel's room
Status: Private -- Michael and Uriel
Summary: Uriel giggles and Michael is serious.

Michael sighed as he walked down the corridor. In his arms lay Uriel, giggling almost hysterically. They were both covered in snow, wet and cold, and Uriel just kept giggling.

Sometimes, he decided, it sucked to be responsible. As it had looked like Uriel was not about to get inside on his own, he had taken it upon himself to help his fellow archangel. Somewhere along the way, however, Uriel had collapsed in a fit of giggles with apparently no intention to get up. So here he was, snowy and wet, stuck carrying his unstable colleague.

Uriel's giggles quietened a bit, his head falling against Michael's shoulder, eyes drooping slightly. Had he not known for a fact that Uriel never slept Michael might have thought he was beginning to drift off. There was a broad grin on the other angel's face that would have never made its way there under normal circumstances, though, and thus he knew Uriel was not about to calm down just yet. If he hadn't witnessed this happening many times before...

That thought almost made him stop on his track. Yes, he had seen Uriel's mood swings many times, probably more often than any other single angel. But had he become too used to them? It couldn't be healthy, after all; perhaps he shouldn't take it so lightly. And what about the others, didn't anybody realize just how bad it was. Well, Uriel did keep to himself most of the time. Probably nobody else truly realized just how far it could go.

His darkhaired load suddenly started giggling again. Well, they were already almost at Uriel's room. Coming to the door he had been looking for Michael miracled it open. Stepping in and letting the door close behind him, he dropped Uriel to the apparently unused bed. As the giggles didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, he sighed, leant forward and slapped Uriel's face sharply.

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"Ow!" For a moment, Uriel was stunned as Michael slapped him. Then, however, he felt himself calming down, getting slowly back to his usual self. With a small sigh, he sat up, shaking his head a bit to clear off the last remains of his giggling fit. "I apparently did it again," he muttered. "My apologies."

"Don't," Michael sighed. "It's not like you can help it." Apparently only now coming to think about it, he miracled them both clean of snow. "Besides, you have every right to be happy every now and then, too."

Uriel raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Now, now. Surely I'm not that serious all the time, am I?" As he saw Michael's expression, however, he just smirked humourlessly. "Okay, so may I indeed am... But I can't help that any more than I can help my happy side's action's. It's always one extreme or the other for me, or I'm completely unable to show any kind of emotions."

He shuddered involuntarily as he thought about the snowball fight. Yes, he had definitely gone overboard out there. Hopefully nobody would remember his childish behaviour.

His eyes wandered to the the picture he'd finished earlier that day. Michael's blue eyes watched him in turn. Sighing a bit, he turned back to the unaware model of the picture, at the same time miracling a piece of cloth to cover the painting. It was not Christmas yet.

"Thank you for taking me here," he said to Michael. I really appreaciate your help, especially with my... condition, as it was."

Michael shrugged, feeling a bit uneasy. He definitely didn't mind helping Uriel, even if there were some difficulties along the way, but... Something just didn't feel right about this. He couldn't recall when he'd last seen Uriel go so badly to the happy side. And if his next swing down was as bad...

Forcing a smile, he said, "It was no problem, my friend. And besides, what else could I have done? Left you lying in the snow laughing?" With a tiny grin, he added, "I would recommend going to sleep for now, but I think I know you better than to expect you to actually sleep. You haven't even touched the bed ever since your arrival -- well, before now, that is --, have you?" As Uriel smiled weakly, shaking his head, Michael just smiled.

"I didn't think so. Now, you do some meditating or whatever you usually do when you need to relax. I, however, am going to sleep for now. I'm absolutely exhausted."

Uriel snorted. "Meditating? What do you think I am, a Buddhist? No, I think some more painting will be just relaxing enough... As soon as I get the last pictures of sunny flower fields full of fluffy bunnies and big-eyed kittens playing with laughing children out of my head. It gets rather disturbing after a while."

Michael chuckled at that, and Uriel frowned at him, mildly annoyed. "You should try this sometimes. See for yourself just how disturbing it can be to see everything as nice and good and funny. I can assure you that I would much rather have the emotional range of any ordinary being, but alas, I haven't been given any say in that particular matter. As I thus cannot help it, and you have no idea what it is like nor can you ever find out, I would much appreciate it if you didn't laugh at me for it."

He sighed then. Even though he was now back to his usual self, bits of his former mood swing still clung to him like affectionate kittens -- no, no that kind of mental images! He had enough of those as it was.

A usual emotional range. Oh, yes, that was what he wanted almost desperately. Unfortunately, what he had was a small scale of the very mildest emotions, and then the extreme ones -- everything that people would call ‘normal' was simply impossible to him. He couldn't feel such things any more than he could bring down the Gates of Hell all by himself.

Michael grew serious at that. He thought about saying something, but didn't know what. So, finally he just said, "Well, I hope you can relax, however you do it." Then, he headed for the door.

He didn't have to wait for long before he heard the usual, "May the Presence be strong in you."

It may have been quieter than usually, but he tried not to think anything of that fact.