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Language:
English
Series:
Part 6 of Angel 'verse
Stats:
Published:
2012-04-03
Words:
750
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
6
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
396

Through the Wormhole - Angel Style

Summary:

A little tiny peek at what it might be like if Aeryn Sun were a Protector.

Notes:

Work Text:

The woman appeared in his path as he was walking alone towards the launch pad. She appeared out of thin air in the space of a heartbeat. She blocked his path, fists on her hips, a scowl on her lips as she tossed her long dark hair back over her shoulder.

“Where’d you come from?” John asked, startled to see a civilian here, especially a beautiful civilian clad in tight black leather pants and a tight black tank top.

“Very, very far away. You’re a pain in the eema, do you know that John Crichton?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared. “So I’ve been told. What’d I do to you, lady?”

She pointed a finger towards his nose. “You! You dense, dense man! Three other Protectors were assigned to you, and still, here we stand, back at the danger point, with you about to hurl yourself to your death. You have ignored every single attempt to dissuade you from this path. You have to listen to do as I say."

“Do the wardens at the hospital know you’re out and about, sweetheart? Maybe there's someone I can call to come and get you and take you back to the nice comfortable institut..."

“Look, I’m the last one they’re sending, after that, you’ll be written off as a hopeless cause and lamented as lost. You’ve been so obtuse that our usual methods have not worked at all. I’m forced to reveal myself to you. You've put us to great trouble. I had to get a dispensation to do this.”

Crichton was getting annoyed at her annoyance; he didn’t even know this crazy woman. “Do what?”

“Stop you from getting onto that module. If you do, you will not survive.”

“Right. Look lady, this project is the culmination of years of work. There's a lot of time and money involved. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late for the launch.” He tried to skirt around her.

She sighed heavily and moved back into his path. “I’m your Protector. I am trying to protect you.” They did an odd sort of dance as he kept trying to get past her.

“Fine, you don’t believe me, you think I’m a crazy person. Perhaps this will convince you!” She stood back a few steps and closed her eyes. Then she winced in pain and hunched over. As John watched, large black wings erupted from her back, tearing through the thin material of the tank top. She was shaking from head to toe as she straightened up and stared at him, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. “I’m your frelling Protector,” she rasped huskily. “And I am telling you: don’t get on the module.”

Shocked, John stared at the… angel. He reached a hand out as he walked forward, brushing his fingertips against the edge of her wing. “These are real. You’re a real angel.”

“Protector, though we’ve been called guardian angels in the past. After all this, do you believe me now? You cannot do this, not yet. Another time, but not now, not yet.”

“You’re in pain.”

She nodded reluctantly as blood dripped onto the floor from her back. The feathers were coated with it. “Shifting form on this plane is difficult and only done in extreme cases.”

“So, I’m an extreme case?”

“You are. You’re destined to stop a war; you are needed in the future. Your actions, your sacrifices in another time will save millions and millions of lives. Please, wait.”

Faced with the proof of the existence of higher powers, John slowly nodded. He had rushed a few things along the way and the module could stand some upgrades; waiting might not be a disaster. Battling the IASA for an extension would be the most difficult thing. “The suits will have a conniption.”

“They are far easier to persuade than you have been, John Crichton. I will deal with the suits on your behalf. Just promise me you will not fly today.”

“Okay, I won’t fly today.”

She smiled. “Very good, thank you.” She clasped her hands to his cheeks and dragged his head down, pressing their foreheads together. Then she kissed his lips softly. “We’ll meet again, I promise, John.”

“What’s your name?”

“You’ll only have to ask me again the next time, I’m afraid you won’t remember much of this. In this form, I am able to blur your memories. But this had to be your choice. Farewell John, until later.”

 

The End

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