OK, ancient Chinese secret...  "Book One" is only "Book One" on FF.Net.
It's CHAPTER one in the official incarnation of the story.  Of course, it's
chapter one of BOOK one, but hey, who's counting?  Since this story has
gotten C&C from all over the place, I guess it's not too premature to post
the REST of Chapter One, all of which is titled "Fallen Angels."  I hope you
guys like it as much as you seem to like the beginning.  And thank you,
everyone, for such in-depth criticisms!

The rest of Chapter One: Fallen Angels


...When Lucifer saves an angel...

 Far, far below the surface of the mortal plane, an ancient and powerful
being stirred and awakened from a long slumber filled with dreams of the
world above.  His sharp ears caught and held that phrase from among the
infinite number of whispers that echoed in his bed chamber and curiosity
prompted further listening, but there was little else to be gleaned.  That
was disappointing.  The little tidbit had been so...  interesting.

 Ha!  He thought.  Why would I save an angel? I was one once.  It was a
worthless existence and I'm glad to be done with it.  Little ants with no
thoughts of their own.  Leaving Heaven was the wisest action I've ever
taken.

 Finally, hearing nothing further, he opened his eyes.  A dim glow suffused
the chamber, provided by the molten lava of the walls of his castle.  His
gaze traveled around the room, noting that nothing unusual awaited.  He sat
up, the tangled quilt that had covered him during his centuries long sleep
laying tangled around his legs; he had to unwrap it before he could rise.
As he stood and stretched, the lava walls began to glow brighter.  A scent
of burning sulfur wafted to him from the breeze disturbing the curtains, and
he opened them to step onto the balcony overlooking his vast kingdom.

 His castle dominated the central island of the Lake of Fire, a vast
bubbling cauldron of liquid and burning sulfur stirred by howling hot winds.
A wide bridge of bone sprang from the castle's entrance to cross that vast
gulf, its far end meeting the broad highway that meandered through the
various levels and disappear beyond a massive gate far off at the edge of
the infinite plane of Hell.  Beyond the lake's shore stood a tangled
wilderness of iron buildings piled with brambles and shards of bone and
skulls.  The occasional stream of lava flowed here and there among the
streets of the city, carrying stinking masses of burning excrement.  Even in
Hell, the rivers were used as sewage dumps.

 He smiled at the sight of all the masses of souls wandering along the
highway.  Almost, he wished he could be one of them.  Hell was going to be
such a surprise.

 Out there, in his wonderful kingdom, was corruption, hedonism, ego.  In
Hell, there was very little suffering.  The souls on that highway would
receive everything they had ever wanted in life.  For all eternity, addicts
could experience the perfect high, suicides could slay themselves over and
over; combat junkies could fight wars endlessly; sadists and masochists
could join and live out their fantasies of blood and pain strained in
orgasm...

 Forever...

 And if anyone knew how boring that was, he did.  Lucifer, Lord of the
Morning, Father of Lies; once an Archangel, now Lord of Hell.

 As he stood on the balcony and peered out over his domain, all he could
think about was that for those souls, this place would be more heaven than
Heaven.  So much letting go, so much self indulgence, it was a huge
playground for the deranged.

 "If Heaven is a piano bar..."  He said to no-one in particular "Then Hell
is an S and M Goth club."  He grinned at himself for the analogy.

 But as it had countless times before, thinking of the pleasures awaiting
the damned souls reminded him of the dullness of his own existence.  One
could only do anything so many times before it became monotonous and boring.

 A noise from behind him made him turn.  A sleek demoness with dark purple
hair stood before him.  She stood about five and a half feet tall and her
oval face looked up at him expectantly.  Her hair was pulled back tightly
into a crest raised high by several collars of polished bone set with smooth
cabochons of amethyst the same shade as her hair.  The flowing topknot
cascaded to nearly her ankles, and her sharp widow's peak combined with her
delicately upswept eyebrows to give her a deliciously diabolical look.  Her
wide, slightly slanted eyes were a deep amethyst color that matched the gems
set in the jewelry, and the smile in them matched the one on her sensuous
violet lips, her lower lip moued into a slight pout.  Her delicately pointed
ears, bearing large bone hoops set with more amethysts, set off the rest of
her features to give her a luminous beauty that mixed all the races of the
earth.

 Her body was sleekly muscular, full of curves and grace, like a cross
between a gymnast and a belly dancer, and her massive breasts rose and fell
softly with her breathing.  Hoops like those in her ears dangled from her
large velvety purple nipples, matching a smaller ring that was just visible
through the soft violet curls that crowned her sex.  A wide collar of bone
set with amethyst circled her sleek neck, with a chain of bone beads falling
between her breasts to curve up underneath them.  They connected to the
rings in her nipples before falling to join the ring between her legs.
Bracelets of gem-studded bone encircled both ankles and wrists.  Her shapely
hands, tipped with long tapering nails painted purple, were holding apart
the curtains between the balcony and Lucifer's bed chamber, the light of the
molten walls playing along the soft charcoal grey of her skin, shadows
accentuating her alluring figure.

 Confident of Lucifer's eyes upon her, she turned and swayed to the bed in a
lithe saunter that was reminiscent of a tigress, though no feline could have
matched her grace.  She lay on the bed sprawled in a lush invitation for
debauchery.

 "Master."  She said in a throaty voice full of promises of infinite carnal
pleasures.  "I'm so glad that you are awake."

 Lucifer studied her for long seconds, drinking in her exotic beauty.  It
was one of the few pleasures he had left.  Then he strode to the bedside and
sat down next to her, absently playing with one of her nipple rings.  "I
heard a whisper that awoke me."  He tugged gently on the ring as the
demoness purred and groaned.  "Something about me saving an angel.  Do you
know anything about this, my lovely Lily?"

 "Everyone knows, Master,"  she breathed, pleasure titillating her every
pore as she looked lustily at him through lowered eyes.  "It wasn't you.  It
was a minion of-" She cut off with a gasp of pain as Lucifer jerked upright,
nearly tearing her ring free.

 "A minion saved an angel?  And I wasn't told immediately?"  Anger colored
his voice slightly.

 "Mephistopheles just now asked me to tell you,"  she pouted as she rubbed
her nipple, frustration and pain in her eyes.  "He's down in the throne
room."

 Lucifer nodded and rose distractedly, approaching a large free-standing
mirror to appraise himself.  His gaze swept over his muscular frame, a body
that Michelangelo would have wept to carve, and focused on his face.  Blue
eyes gazed back at him from a softly masculine visage that could only be
described as beautiful.  Soft, slightly curled locks of golden blonde hair
framed that perfect face, so fine it appeared spun from liquid sunlight.
Long muscular legs descended from a trim waist to perfect ankles and golden
curls framed his powerful manhood.  Perched jauntily above his head was a
Halo darkened to a black so pure that light seemed to fall into it, defined
only by the faint purple glow of ultraviolet.

 He frowned in irritation, then sighed.  "I'm tired of being this beautiful,
Lily.  It's such a bore."  Slight despair tinted his words.  "But my hideous
demonic form is equally bland.  Male, female, ugly, beautiful.  It's all the
same!  Where is the dynamic tendency for change?  Where does relief come in?
When?"  He swatted at the mirror in irritation and watched as it shattered
into a million shards, each reflecting a tiny Lucifer, then strode to the
wardrobe in disgust.

 Lily waved her hand in the direction of the mirror and with a glassy tinkle
it popped to attention fully formed.  Not a single crack or flaw marred its
smooth surface.

 "The G.O.D. has made everything far too predictable!"  Lucifer continued as
he dressed, various articles of clothing floating around him awaiting his
attention.  "They've done so much to make humanity fear their wrath!
Condemning every wonderful vice!  Every beautiful seduction!   Every
tantalizing fit of anger and mayhem!  Lily, these are the things man is made
of!  Mankind is awesome, one of His greatest creations, and it's because of
its flaws!  Perfection is but a paradox of virtue and vice, and the G.O.D.
is destroying that perfect equilibrium.  They want to grind everyone down to
one thought, one way of life, one perfect anthill!"  Lucifer looked over his
shoulder at the demoness.  "That's what I'm up against Lily.  The ultimate
anthill.  Man isn't an ant.  He's life, and lust and greed and... every sin
wrapped into one!  Man's vices are treasures to be enjoyed, and the G.O.D.
just wants to eliminate them."  Bitter laughter rang softly.  "And I try to
keep them alive.  A never-ending no-win battle.  Pointless isn't it?"

 Lily made no comment as she watched the single tear roll down his perfect
cheek, but inside she felt her heart wrench.  It was so rare to see him
express any emotion at all.

 Lucifer sighed and fastened the cuff links on the white silk shirt, the
golden pitchforks shining in the ruddy light like fresh blood.  He slid into
the black silk jacket, shrugging to set the shoulders, then buttoning the
front.  He glanced down to check the crease of the black slacks and the
shine on his shoes, then reached out to snag his tie from mid air.  With a
deft series of flips, he knotted the yellow silk and pulled it tight.
Tucking it into his jacket, he turned to survey himself in the restored
mirror.  A slight smile came to him at the figure he cut.  Of all the
outfits he'd dreamed of in his long slumber, this was his favorite.

 He turned to Lily, nether noticing or commenting on the restored mirror.
She had left the bed and was standing by the door, her shoulders back and
her breasts proffered for hopeful attention.  Lucifer smiled and gave her
nipples a playful tweak.  She smiled in pleasure.  "You look wonderful,
Master."

 "Oh, Lilith.  You can stop calling me that.  It was all the rage a few
centuries ago, but it's passe.  We are married after all, and it's the age
of equality of the sexes, no?"  He laughed.  "As if they ever were..."  He
bowed and motioned for her to precede him.  "Shall we?"

 She smiled, and turned to step into the vortex beyond with a last
suggestive wiggle.

 "Ah, well."  Lucifer said to the empty room.  "Maybe this time..."  He
stepped through the door as well.



 Time and Space shifted to accommodate his desires and he reappeared in his
grandiose throne room fourteen floors below.  It was empty of souls and only
one demon awaited.  Around them massive pillars of twisted flesh supported
the cavernous ceiling, the myriad human arms they bore holding candles made
of the fat of newborns. The flickering light from the candles illuminated
the vast room with a peculiar shadowy light that made distances deceptive,
and it was hard to tell if the outer wall was a hundred yards away or a
thousand miles.  The same light also illuminated the massive doors carved
with succubae and demons and damned souls in an obscene orgy, and a wide
gallery of impaled skeletons bordering the walk to the throne.  Not all the
bodies so displayed were human.
 Before the throne, a massive seal of iron was set into the floor.  An icon
of a double-headed serpent was carved into its surface, and Mephistopheles
stood upon this.  Before him rose the vast black skeleton of a dragon, its
tangled and scorched bone forming the body of the throne.  Of the entire
room, only the throne stood in shadow.

 As Lucifer appeared out of the shadowy vortex behind the throne,
Mephistopheles bowed deeply, his long horsetail flipping idly at the flies
that buzzed around him.  His sturdy cloven hooves were planted shoulder
width apart and black fur covered him from the waist down.  His torso was
strong and muscular, especially around his chest and shoulders, from the
occasional flight on his bat-like wings.  His long mane of black hair coiled
around the base of his curling ram's horns and sparkling eyes glittered from
deep sockets, between which an aquiline nose sprung.  His thin mustache
curled around the sides of his mouth to a sharply pointed goatee.  He was,
quite literally, devilishly handsome.

With a wide grin, he strode forward to lift Lilith's hand to his lips.
"Lilith, my dear, you are looking exceptionally delightful to-" he began in
a smooth silky voice.

 "Can the used car salesman crap, Mephistopheles," Lucifer said impatiently
as he plopped carelessly on his throne with an expression of extreme
boredom.  "I want to know why a minion is saving angels, and from whom."

 "I see you have been dreaming well, My Lord Lucifer.  Even in slumber,
knowledge of the world does not escape you," Mephistopheles said wryly.

 Lucifer rolled his eyes.  "Drop the flattery and get ON with it!"

 "One of my officers has caused the fall of a Virtue First Class," the Lord
of Corruptions responded.

 Lucifer made a little "whoop-de-do" motion with one hand as he rested his
head on the other.  "Gee. That's great."  He said completely half heartedly.
"Who's her Arch?"

 "She's one of Theliel's, but there's-"

 "How sweet," Lucifer interrupted, the boredom in his voice heavier than a
black hole.  "Another Cupidite to fall into your tender graces.  I trust
your agent got a suitable reward?" he asked, not interested in an answer.

 "She quit," Mephistopheles said darkly, bracing for the tirade, but
instead, Lucifer's eyes glittered and a faint hint of a smile formed on his
lips as he furrowed his brow in thought.

 "Quit?"  Animation threatened to enter his voice.  "Why?"

 "The bitch thinks she's in love with the angel in question."
Mephistopheles said vehemently.

 Lilith laughed.  "I see the colors of your jealousy, Mephistopheles.  All
of us know of your fondness for buggering angels," she said, casually
stretching out on her cushion at Lucifer's feet.

"You brazen whore!  I do not-" the demon lord thundered before Lucifer cut
him off.

"SILENCE!"  he roared, his voice shaking the castle.  It the stillness that
followed, he spoke softly, but there was no way to doubt the menace in his
voice.  "You will never speak to Lilith that way again.  She is the Mother
of all that exists here and you WILL have a little respect for your
creator."

 A deep rumbling sounded from the floor.

 The Demon Lord fell on his knees before the throne, his face a mask of
terror.  "No, Master... I beg of you... " he pleaded.

 Lucifer gazed at him for a long moment, the rumbling getting worse.  When
he was sure his point had been made, he spoke authoritatively.  "Baal.
Heel!"

 The slow rumble quieted slowly as the room stopped shaking.
Mephistopheles, however, remained prostrate on the floor.

 "You know how Baal gets.  He always gets... hungry... when I'm angry."
Lucifer stated.

 Mephistopheles could only give a terrified nod, unable to control his knees
shaking.

 Lucifer contemplated for several minutes before continuing.  "So, your
operative quit."  He jumped up to pace back and forth along the edge of the
dais, finally asking "Which one?"

 "Seraph Darkfell.  A succubus," Mephistopheles managed after a moan of
fear.

 "Ah, yes...  Your best operative.  How amusing," Lucifer chuckled.
"And..."  he stopped as a sudden thought struck him.  "Oh... how...
interesting...  And the angel?"

 "Harteriel Serefina."  Mephistopheles voice sounded meek and tired.  "She
was exiled from Heaven for having sex with Seraph."

 Lucifer paused.  "Exiled?"  He looked at the demon lord, one eyebrow
raised.  "You mean Fell."

 Mephistopheles shook his head.  "No, Master.  She was exiled by order of
Theliel, but she has not Fallen."

 Lucifer gazed at Mephistopheles, seeming to be not so much looking at him
as through him.  The Demon Lord found it to be very disconcerting and
frightening.

 Lilith was looking at Lucifer, concerned.  "My Lord?" she asked
uncertainly.  Lucifer hadn't acted like this in a long time...

 "An angel..." he finally said.  "And a succubus... In love..."  A faint
smile played around his lips as traces of wonder danced in his eyes.  Then
they locked on Mephistopheles.  "I take it that when she refused to lead her
lover into a trap and leave her to your tender mercies, you arranged a
'welcoming committee'?"

 "Yes,"  the Demon Lord said glumly.  "Seraph killed them."

 Lucifer's eyes danced as a slow smile grew on his face.  "Do either of them
know about the G.O.D.'s glamour on the Angel?"

 Mephistopheles looked confused.  "Glamours, Master?  The G.O.D. removed her
glamours when they removed her wings."

 Lucifer was now grinning fully.  "Thank you Mephistopheles.  You are free
to go."  He turned to return to his throne.

 "But, Master, do you not wish me to send a retrieval team?  Another Virtue
would be beneficial to our cause..."

 Lucifer sat and said sarcastically, "And to your bed."  He shook his head.
"No.  I will deal with this matter personally."  Then he gave the Demon Lord
an amused look.  "Besides, I remember what happened to the last Virtue to
fall to your charms."  Lucifer chuckled.  "Oh the irony!"

 Mephistopheles bowed, hiding his humiliation and rage.  "As you wish,
Master."  he forced through grinding teeth, then turned to leave, feeling
Lucifer's eyes upon him all the way to the door.

 As Lucifer watched him leave, the Lord of Hell could no longer contain
himself.  "And I was just saying the G.O.D had made everything so boring!"

 All of Hell rang with its Master's laughter.

*  *  *  *  *

 Mephistopheles stomped his way across the bridge of bone from Lucifer's
castle, his wrath a fiery corona around him.  The sounds of Lucifer's
laughter rang in his ears bitterly.  He paused at one of the many skeletal
cadavers impaled along the bridge and smashed his fist through its dry
skull.

 "First that bitch Seraph screws me out of that slut angel, then she kills
Bhaalor's ambushers, and now Lucifer's laughing at me!" he screamed at the
silent corpse.  "How could it possibly get any worse!"

 In answer to his question a shadow fell across him and he turned to face a
nightmare.

 The demon before him stood ten feet tall - both ways.  Muscle piled on
muscle in such profusion as to make him appear almost dwarflike in his
proportions.  His face was grim, his one blood-red eye glaring at
Mephistopheles from under a cliff-like brow.  Two tall and massive horns
sprang from his bullet like head, arching upwards in a slight spiral that
added almost three more feet to his height, the massive muscles of his neck
supporting the weight effortlessly.

 That neck trailed into a pair of shoulders nearly as broad as he was tall,
the massively corded braid of his muscles straining against his red skin.
One hand was tucked into the heavy iron belt, carved with scenes of
Armageddon, Celtic knot-work dividing the panels.  Below it, his brown fur
glistened from his sweat, small droplets falling beside his cloven hooves
and steaming on the heated bone.

 Mephistopheles backed up, feeling his anger slide once more into fear as he
eyed the massive morningstar resting lightly against the giant's shoulder,
its iron head larger than his chest.

 "B...B... Bhaalor!" he finally stuttered.

 The Demon Lord of Battles leaned down, the silver death's head on his black
eye patch gleaming ominously.
 "You and me are gonna to talk," he rumbled in a tone which left no room for
argument.  "Now!"

 Mephistopheles turned to run, but one massive ham hand locked around the
Lord of Corruptions' tail and halted him.  Bhaalor hefted the protesting
Mephistopheles casually and tossed him over his shoulder as he turned and
marched back down the bridge to the iron city, ignoring the smaller demons
cries, pleas, begging and bluster.

 Bhaalor trudged deep into the city, finally arriving at a restaurant
displaying a sign of a cauldron filled with body parts.  Bhaalor dragged the
reluctant Mephistopheles into the restaurant, past cannibals feasting on
human flesh, to the kitchen, where more cannibals were being butchered by
imps for the diners out front...

 "It's too noisy to talk in here!" Mephistopheles screamed above the cries
of the butchered, ducking as a spray of blood flew from a newly beheaded
body.  The head in the imp's hands looked down at its body in fear oddly
mixed with a strange anticipation.  Its tongue licked its lips hungrily.

 Bhaalor ignored the carnage, his head turning to scan the room until he
found what he sought, then he moved to the red door partially hidden behind
a row of writhing bodies awaiting preparation, the cannibals suspended from
hooks in their backs.  He stepped past the soon-to-be dinners and turned the
knob on the blood slicked door, having to try several times before getting
enough traction.

 Beyond was an aging room where already prepared bodies hung, stuffed with
various flavorings.  Bhaalor walked around the edge until he reached a clear
spot near the back and swung his burden around.  He grabbed Mephistopheles'
arms and lifted him to impale his wings on a pair of hooks.  Mephistopheles
howled as Bhaalor left him to hang.

 "Shut up!"  Bhaalor thundered.  "Or I'll leave you there minus your head.
I lost six good agents in that ambush!  They'd been keeping Alphabet City at
war for ten years now!"

 Mephistopheles grew pale.  "B-B-Bhaalor!  I- I can ex-" he stammered before
the Warlord cut him off.

 "And why is one of your officers killing off my agents?!"  Anger crackled
in his voice like thunder.  He swatted at a fly circling the writhing
entrees around them, then continued.  "And where in the Name of our Master
did a goddamned SUCCUBUS learn how to fight!"  His one good eye glowed
crimson fire.

 "My officer?"  Mephistopheles tried to look innocent.  "But Seraph
resigned!  Surely you aren't blaming me for her actions?"

 The huge morning star slashed downwards between the Lord of Corruptions
dangling legs, the vicious spikes just missing his manhood.

 "That's not the answer to the question I asked."  Bhaalor said softly and
dangerously.

 "S-she was rescuing the angel!"  Mephistopheles stuttered, trying to angle
his lower body further away from the spikes.  "And where do you think she
learned how to fight?"

 Bhaalor leaned down till he was face to face and growled.  "That's what I'm
asking you."

 In desperation, Mephistopheles put on his best smile.  It was a trifle
weak, but it would have to do.

 "Bhaalor, old buddy.  You're forgetting what Seraph once was.  I made her.
I hand picked her for her spirit and focus.  She was a warrior as fine as
any of your men, even if she lacked the bloodlust you prize so highly, until
I turned her into the cute slut she is today."

 The giant demon considered that and nodded, accepting the answer.  "Yeah.
Well your 'cute slut' is about to suffer terminal iron poisoning."  He
stepped back.  "She owes me for six agents."

 "You're going to kill her?"  Mephistopheles cried in dismay.  "She's my
best agent!"

 "Not anymore.  She resigned, right?  I'll just deliver her termination
notice."  Bhaalor laughed at his own joke.

Somehow, Mephistopheles was not reassured.

 "But- but she could still be brought back.  A few weeks of my personal
attention would remind her of her place!"

 "Save it for her next re-incarnation."  Bhaalor said as he turned and
walked towards the door.  "I had an SS officer and two Mongols in that
squad, all very valuable to me.  Now they're re-incarnates and there's no
guarantee they'll grow up into the mean, vicious bastards they were!"  His
morning star swung through the air angrily and turned several of the hanging
corpses into bloody ruin.  "Your bitch wasted them and now she's going to be
toast!"

 Mephistopheles sighed.  Arguing with the ten foot tall Warlord was a lost
cause.  Seraph was doomed...

 But maybe something was salvageable...

 "Bhaalor, wait!"

 The Warlord paused at the door.  "What?"

 "Perhaps we could strike a bargain?"  The Master of Deals oozed, the wheels
in his mind churning.  "About the angel, Harteriel?"

 "I don't care about the angel."  Bhaalor turned to leave.

 Mephistopheles rubbed his hands together, back in his element.  "Good.
That was exactly what I was hoping you'd say..."

*  *  *  *  *

 After Mephistopheles had wormed a promise from Bhaalor to deliver the Angel
to him and he had finally wriggled his way off the hooks and left, the
purple-eyed grey fly that had been circling the carcass nearest them grew
and shimmered into the form of Lilith.

 "How interesting," she said softly.

 She had decided to follow Mephistopheles after he had left the throne room,
sensing he would cause trouble, and she had been right.  Against Lucifer's
orders, he was still trying to arrange the angel's capture solely for the
pleasure of raping her...

 But still... there where parts of what she had heard that perked more than
just casual interest, just as it had with her husband.

 "An angel-besotted Succubus who can best trained warriors of Bhaalor..."
she whispered to herself

 It was no use... she was going to have to give this Seraph Darkfell and her
angelic lover a visit...

*  *  *  *  *

 "Mr. Fish?"

 The gentleman behind the desk looked up from his work at the crackling
intercom.  He sighed.  All this technology and his assistant still sounded
like she was talking through a tin can.

 He reached out and hit the button.  "Yes, Maggie?"

 "There are two gentlemen to see you, sir.  A Mr. Horne and a Mr. Wright."

 "Ah yes, send them in, please,"

 The door to the luxurious office opened silently, allowing the two
gentlemen entrance.  They looked around the tastefully earth-toned decor,
then advanced to two low backed chairs before the oak desk.  They sat down,
their wings just clearing the tops.

 Both of them were handsome men, almost to the point of being called
beautiful.  Mr. Wright had a thick crop of medium brown hair that crowned a
boyish, blue eyed face.  His grey Armani suit had been tailor-fitted to
accommodate his trim muscular figure and his ivory white wings.

 Mr. Horne stood just a few inches taller than Mr. Wright's six feet, and
was similarly attired in navy blue.  His blond, shoulder length hair
accented an Adonis-like body, and his piercing eyes were an iron grey.  He
waited till Mr. Fish looked at him before speaking.

 "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, sir,"

 Mr. Fish nodded, the golden light from his visitors' halos making strange
shadows on his face.  "This situation is very sensitive.  I can see many
potential consequences."  His face was grave.

 Mr. Wright spoke.  "The Council has outlined many possible scenarios.
We've stopped looking for a minimum impact solution.  In all cases, the
butterfly effect curved off the scale.  This situation is more extreme than
I believe anyone realizes.  For better or for worse, a chain of events has
been set in motion by these two that cannot be predicted with any certainty.
All forecasts show it will ripple across the globe and through all of the
other worlds.  Heaven, the Olympus complex, Asgard, The Summerlands, Arcadia
and most other regions will be affected, as will the Nine Circles.  Nor will
we be able to contain the effect within the western realms.  Projections
show massive overlap into the Celestial Bureaucracy, the Seven Realms, the
Garden of Allah, even the Dreamlands."

 "If I may be candid, Mr. Fish," Mr. Horne added.  "The Council is becoming
worried.  I especially am concerned."

 Mr. Fish nodded.  "Yes, I can understand that.  Believe me, I share in your
apprehension.  My attention will be solely devoted to this affair."  He
tapped a spot on his desk and a concealed monitor lit up.  "My contacts have
informed me the G.O.D. has declared Harteriel Serefina Exiled and Fallen,
but there is a discrepancy.  Despite the declaration, it appears Miss
Serefina has not Fallen.  I would like this investigated."

 Mr. Wright nodded.

 "Also, I have been made aware that the Department of Corruptions has
complied a dossier on her.  I would like to know what that dossier
contains."  He tapped another spot on his desk and the information on the
monitor changed.  "I have also been informed that the D.O.C. has lost one of
its best agents in this Seraph Darkfell.  Infernal Affairs has her on
Terminate status.  Have you been able to assemble a dossier?"

 "Actually, yes."  Mr. Wright held up a small silver disc.  He handed it to
Mr. Fish, who placed it in a slot at the side of his desk.  For a long
moment his eyes scanned the data scrolling across his monitor.  His face was
expressionless as it finished and he leaned back, lost in thought for a
minute.

 Finally, he looked at the two angels.  "I take it you are both familiar
with the information in this file?"

 They nodded.

 "Good.  I have your assignments, gentlemen."  He turned to the grey-suited
angel.  "Mr. Wright.  I would like you to study Miss Darkfell on a logical
level.  She has strengths and weaknesses.  Find them.  Monitor the use of
her powers.  She's a Succubus, she feeds on desire and lust, is she feeding?
And is she feeding off Harteriel?  Most importantly, how much of her...
previous history... does she remember?  Secondly, I need an evaluation of
Miss Serefina.  If she has not Fallen, find out why.  Also, she feeds on
love.  Is she feeding?"

 Mr. Wright nodded.  Mr. Fish turned to his companion.

 "Mr. Horne, I need you to study them on an intuitive level.  How ingrained
are Seraph's demonic reflexes?  How does she think?  Is she really in love?
The same goes for Harteriel.  I need to know their intentions before we make
any further moves.  They are both their respective offices' best agents, is
this defection real? Or an elaborate gambit?"  Mr. Fish fixed them both with
a stern look.  "Neither of you are to have any contact with them until I
give the command.  I do not wish them to know they are being observed."

 They nodded and rose to go.

 "Oh," Mr. Fish added as an afterthought.  "I would like one of you to bring
Raphael in.  He may be needed later, providing Miss Serefina truly has not
Fallen."  He nodded.  "That is all."

 They nodded again and headed for the door.  At the threshold, Mr. Wright
turned back.  "Mr. Fish?"

 "Yes."

 "Should we send in a Guardian?"

 Mr. Fish smiled.  "I already have that taken care of Michael.  But, I'm
glad to see you're giving them the benefit of the doubt."

 Mr. Wright nodded in acknowledgement and exited the office after Mr. Horne.
Mr. Fish settled back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.  The scars on his
forehead throbbed with his headache.  Playing guessing games with the G.O.D.
was bad enough.  Now, Chaos threatened to take a hand in affairs.  At times
like this, he almost wished there was someone else to do his job, but he'd
gotten his answer to that particular wish in a garden on a hill a long, long
time ago.

 With a sigh, he pressed the button on the intercom.

 "Yes?" his executive assistant called brightly, as she had always done,
from the day he'd married her.

 "Maggie, my love, would you be so kind as to get me Valentine?  And you'd
better put out the notice that my mother is likely to arrive in town
soon..."  Another headache he could do without, but couldn't avoid.

 "Right away.  Would you like a cup of coffee, dear?  I just made a fresh
pot."

 After all these years, she knew exactly how to make him smile.  "Yes, dear,
I would love some..."

*  *  *  *  *

 The Old Man sat down at the head of the table, his long flowing mane of
grey hair blending into the tangle of his beard.  Iron grey eyes gazed out
of a weathered face which could be at times kindly, at others stern beyond
belief, but at present just looked tired.  He looked around the room to
ensure all his key players were present, then called the meeting to order.

 He waited until they were all seated before speaking again.  "Well,
gentlemen, we knew going in that this project had risks."

 "I am not pleased at losing my best agent," one of those congregated said
sourly.  His heavy-lidded dark eyes sat in an androgynous face whose beauty
was renowned almost as much as that of the First Fallen.  However, there was
an angry curl to his lips as he awaited the Old Man's explanation.

 "No-one told you to Exile her, Theliel," one of the others said.  His mane
of thick red hair hung down his back in waves, contrasting with his dark red
wings.  His eyes met Theliel's and they stared one another down.

 "Theliel was justified in Exiling his agent, Cherubiel.  She had been...
compromised," said the lone woman in their midst.  She sat across from the
two antagonists, her dark clothing covering even her wings.  A veil covered
her face so that only her eyes could be seen, and her hard gaze made
Cherubiel turn to give a dust mote a careful inspection.  "Sex is forbidden
by the Code, save between married couples.  Sex with a demon doublely so."

 "Thank you, Temporiel. That will be enough."  The Old Man interrupted
before a shouting match could ensue.  "The loss of Harteriel is a setback,
but it proves we seriously underestimated the skills of Seraph Darkfell.
However, we have not failed entirely.  The Department of Corruptions no
longer has her services.  In the capacity of Mephistopheles' agent, Seraph
has been neutralized, and there remains a possibility she may be purified
and turned to our cause.  The situation must be analyzed."

 A light breeze blew through the meeting room, carrying the faint sound of a
choir singing.  As it passed, it left a neatly rolled scroll before each of
the five members of the committee.  They took a few moments to read through
them.

 After a long moment of silence, Barakiel, the Warlord whistled.  "Houston,
we have a problem."

 The Old Man nodded.  "This report was just forwarded to me."

 "Six of Bhaalor's men?  I would not care to be Mephistopheles when the
Warlord of Hell catches him."  Theliel burst out through uncontrolled
giggles.  This was met with chuckles by all the others, save one.

 "Disturbing," Uziel said suddenly, his voice killing the laughter.  The
Master of Purgatory was by all appearances a young boy, but one look in his
eyes spoke of millennia devoted to learning.  Uziel spoke rarely, but when
he did, the others listened.

 Into the silence, Uziel continued, "Based on this report, there are two
probabilities.  The first is beneficial to our cause.  There still exists a
possibility that our original objective may be accomplished and we may yet
win Seraph to Heaven's cause, thereby dealing the Office of Corruptions a
major blow and cripple its current effectiveness.  Despite the major error
Theliel made by Exiling Heart, there is still a small percent chance this
may yet be accomplished."

 "However.  This is the least likely case.  Heart's Exile makes this
resolution highly improbable.  I fear that this situation is more likely to
escalate into catastrophe."

 The Old Man nodded.  "Elaborate," He commanded.

 Uziel steepled his fingers, noting the glare Theliel was giving him.  "The
pivot point is Seraph's actions following Heart's Exile.  As an agent of
Hell, she was predictable to a point.  Her actions could be expected to fall
within those normally performed by Mephistopheles' agents, though she could
be very ingenious within those limits.  Heart's Exile seems to have provided
a catalyst which has changed that.  Her resignation from the Department of
Corruptions was unexpected.  She is now a renegade free agent.  Her
motivations seem to revolve around her relationship with the angel, but is
she really in love-"

 "Never!" Theliel hissed.

 Uziel ignored the outburst and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.
"-or does she have ulterior motives?  If so, how has she fooled an Angel of
Love into believing she truly loves her?  Beyond this, there is the matter
of Seraph's performance while in battle with Bhaalor's troops.  Seraph is a
Succubus First Class, not a combat demon.  Against Bhaalor's agents she
should have been overmatched, yet she bested them easily."  His eyes bored
into Theliel's.  "There is a discrepancy therefore, between her demonstrated
abilities and her reported ones."

 Theliel glanced at the Old Man, but otherwise stared fixedly at the table.

 Uziel continued.  "From this evidence, it seems possible that Seraph might
have found some method of drawing upon Heart in ways that enhance her own
powers.  There is a danger in this.  Seraph was previously Mephistopheles'
best agent.  Her powers were nearly as strong as the Demon Lord's.  If
Seraph has found a way to feed off Heart in a manner that increases her
personal powers, it is possible her 'retirement' is a first step for a plan
to replace the Demon Lord as head of the D.O.C. Seraph may teach other
demons these methods and create a power imbalance that could disrupt the
present order.  This must be investigated and Seraph's true motives must be
discovered."

 The Old Man nodded. "Go on."

 "As Seraph is a Demon, I would theorize this is a more likely possibility
than that she is actually in love with Heart.  Demons are not capable of the
higher emotions.  How she has managed to delude Heart is unknown, but the
evidence is plain that Heart truly believes Seraph loves her-"

 "Evidence?" Temporiel interrupted.

 "Yes.  Harteriel has not Fallen.  This could only occur if she truly
believed Seraph loved her."

 "That's impossible!"  Temporiel stormed.  "She broke the Code and slept
with her!"

 "Yes.  Despite your well-known hatred for sex, Temporiel, the Code is for
Mortals.  Harteriel vowed her love to Seraph.  While I do not believe Seraph
could return that love, the fact remains that by the act of giving herself
to Seraph she is guilty only of consummation of her vows."

 Temporiel looked angrily at Theliel for support, but found none.  "Uziel's
right.  She believes she's in love with the Succubus and in accordance with
her Oaths.  The Exile clerk could only take her Robes and Halo of Office.
She has managed to fall into a loophole and she has retained her status as
an angel.  She is at present under glamour and unaware of this, but there
are those who can see through the glamour, and once she becomes aware of it,
she can break it."

 "Let's get someone on that," the Old Man said. "We want to prevent that as
long as possible."  He tapped his fingers on the table as he thought.
"Uziel.  You stated that there existed a possibility of successfully
finishing our original plan.?"

 He nodded.  "Yes, however, as I stated, it carries a low probability of
success."

 "Explain."

 "As I stated, the likelihood of Seraph truly returning Heart's love is
small, but if she does in fact care for Heart, then there is a possibility
of exploiting that.  Heart is likely very emotionally distressed over her
Exile.  If she were to be approached with an offer of a pardon and the
opportunity to return, she would likely consider it.  Once she is lured to
Heaven, it is possible Seraph would attempt to follow her.  In any case, it
is likely she will be weaker if her link to Heart is nullified, something
that cannot be done so long as they are both on the Mortal Plane."

 Temporiel glared.  "Pardon her!  After what she's done!"

 "Settle down, Temporiel," the Old Man commanded.  Her eyes burned hot over
her veil, but she held her tongue.
"What's your final analysis, Uziel?"

 The young looking angel steepled his fingers again.  "They must either be
brought in and controlled, or neutralized.  They are too dangerous to allow
free."

 The Old Man nodded.  "Very well.  Does anyone wish to add anything?"  His
look indicated that no one should.  "Good.  Barakiel, make arrangements to
put the pair under surveillance.  I want to know everything they do, from
what food they eat to what lingerie they wear.  Temporiel, put together an
Official Pardon, and a committee to deliver it if I give the word."

 The Angel of Celibacy and Moderation glared, but wisely made no protest.

 "I think we shall at least make an attempt to salvage our losses.  We will
give them seven earth days.  We should have the data needed to make a final
decision by then.  Meeting adjourned."  He rose, ignoring the mutters around
the table.  At the door, he paused.  "Oh, and if we can't salvage this,
Cherubiel, will you put together an executioners committee?"

 He didn't wait for an answer.

*  *  *  *  *

 Uziel stopped Theliel at the door as the others exited, then turned to the
Cupid.

 "You are running a game, Theliel.  I wish to know what it is."

 A guarded look came to Theliel's eyes.  "I don't know what you're talking
about." He said flatly.

 "Don't make the mistake of assuming my appearance means I'm naive.  I have
my own sources of information Theliel.  I know what was so carefully
excluded from that report."

 "I don't have anything to hide."  Theliel evaded.

 "Really."  Uziel reached out and pulled Theliel's robe off his shoulder,
revealing a long scar along his shoulder blade. "Nothing at all?"

 Theliel pulled his robe back "Stay out of my business, Uziel."

 Uziel's eyes narrowed.  Theliel was too confident.  He was sure of some
protection from the Old Man.  That would bear investigating.

 "I will find out your game, Theliel." Uziel finally said.

 "You're welcome to try."  Theliel's grin was mocking.  "Am I dismissed
now?"  without waiting for an answer, he turned and left.

 "I'll be watching you." Uziel promised to his back.

*  *  *  *  *

 As meetings were had, investigations launched, and spies set in motion, the
subjects of all the fuss were obliviously finishing out their day.

 Lilith had grown bored quickly as she had watched the pair shop for clothes
at the Fifth Avenue Macy's, then go to Times Square and catch a new release.
They had gone out for Fondue for dinner, feeding each other strawberries
dipped in chocolate for dessert, then had gotten a room in a nice hotel
downtown.

 Lilith had thought it wise to hide when Seraphs kisses brought forth soft
moans from Heart.  Seraph's powers would be at a peak during and just after
intercourse, and the risk she might sense Lilith had been too great.  Still,
Lilith hadn't wanted to miss anything, so she had tucked one of her
amethysts into a corner of the ceiling and hidden in a dimensional pocket as
she watched the Angel and Succubus make love.

 I don't believe it. She thought to herself two hours later, the cries of
ecstasy never quieting the entire time.  Seraph never had to use any of her
powers to seduce her?

 Could it be... no... demons couldn't... fall in love?

 Could they?

 Even more intriguing, she'd watched as Heart's blue white aura had
intertwined with Seraph's red black one to create a pale lavender aura that
had surrounded them both.  Lilith had never seen anything like it.   She
watched as it wrapped itself around them like a blanket as they finally
collapsed into an exhausted heap.

 Lilith sighed.  That was incredible...

 Heart curled herself into Seraph's embrace as they lay looking out the
window that opened onto the city, and pulled one of the demoness's wings
around her.  Seraph's tail idly stroked up and down along her leg as she
exuded an aura of utter contentment.  Lilith couldn't believe what her own
eyes were telling her.  She leaned forward, straining to hear the last words
Seraph whispered into Heart's ear as the Angel drifted off to sleep.

 "I almost forgot, Beloved... Happy Valentines Day..."

 Even in her sleep, Heart smiled.



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