If anyone had asked Micah what it felt like to fall to earth, he would describe it as falling downward, face first through a tube or wormhole lined with millions of those tiny little thumbtacks humans use to pin their pictures up. It didn't feel pleasant, but he always believed it was probably because a reaper starts to actually feel things more intensely when they fall. The hypersensitivity could only be calculated as pain when it all feels so much milder up on the other plane.

Micah willed himself invisible so he was free to move about as he pleased, and do some reconnaissance on his charge. The day was early and like routine, he quietly situated himself in Briseis' humble abode, watching her day unfold. Now, he stood against the wall and quietly observed as a short, curvy brunette woman stood in the mirror, putting dresses next to her body, trying to decide which one to choose. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun atop her head and she stood quite statuesque in her nude bra and black panties, switching one dress against her to another, visibly frustrated. Realizing the intimacy, Micah used to remember how creepy it all felt being a reaper in the very beginning.

Sometimes when you're summoned to collect a soul, it's not always from someone in the most mundane situations or positions. He always preferred to wait till the right moment to take a soul and it's usually the noobs or just assholes who decide it's okay to take a soul when the mark is on the toilet, or having sex. True, like many things, humans should not know the day nor the hour, but still, he always thought it was a dick move. Recon is even worse, because unlike popping in to collect, you hang around and watch your mark, waiting for the right time to strike with the warning. So you have to hang around invisible and watch people at their most vulnerable, most intimate. For him, he's done this for so long, it's now all business. Just another mark to deliver.

He could have stayed up and went through the Eye of the Divine, which was a room available to reapers to see a person's life. You could see everything they ever did from the moment they took their first breath. Only the most seasoned reapers were allowed access to use as learning too much about a human's life tended to interfere with a reaper's sentiment or even develop bias. Micah made a decision long ago, he preferred not to use it and get a current view of the mark in the here and now. After all, she's being judged on what she's done recently. He wasn't interested in her life's story.

"How the hell am I gonna hide my boobs in this?" Bree said vocally to herself as she slipped on the blue floral dress. Its sweetheart neckline was way past flirty as it plunged deep exposing a healthy amount of cleavage. She moved to the side to show her profile in the mirror and frowned. Staring down into her chest she shook her head. This is totally ridiculous. What the hell am I doing? Blowing a raspberry at her reflection, she reached into her drawer and pulled out a silver gauzy scarf and wrapped it around her neck, letting it drape across her cleavage. Completing the look, she threw on her dark blue cardigan and stood back in the mirror smiling at her reflection. "I guess this is as good as it's gonna get.  Let's see if Mark finds it cute."

She went to the nightstand, very close to where Micah was standing, and grabbed a pill bottle. Shaking two little white pills out onto her hand, Micah watched her pop them into her mouth and guzzle what water was left from the half-full glass that sat beside the pill bottle.  As her back was turned, apparently searching for her shoes on the floor,  Micah picked up the pill bottle to see its contents, curiosity getting the better of him.  He didn't recognize the drug, but suspected it helped with her headaches, like one she had earlier.  

A little rhythmic buzz from her phone caught both Micah and Briseis attention and she quickly slapped her flats on her feet before diving onto the bed to grab her phone. She slid her finger across and checked the most recent message.

September 4, 2016 (6:15pm)

Hey there, sweetness.  I'm on my way to the restaurant. Just making sure nothing's come up and I'll see your pretty face there to meet me??

"Ohh, terms of endearment," she mused to herself.  "He must be really interested. Either that, or desperate."

She texted him back quickly and hopped back in the mirror, giving herself another once over.  Micah watched as she released the tie from her bun and allowed her chestnut hair to elegantly fall, cascading down her back.  Her hair was unusually long, finally settling to her lower back.  There were hints of curls gone awry from previous styling, but she simply finger detangled and smoothed it back. Micah found himself admiring her look. Her soft features paired with her long, glossy hair reminded him of Venus in a Botticelli painting, albeit more modern. What he couldn't help staring at, were her eyes.  Her almond shaped eyes were an astoundingly rare cross of blue and radiant green, almost turquoise. He may have seen such eyes before at one time, but none quite as striking.

"There, I look more feminine this way."

Suddenly, Briseis jumped as a brown tabby leaped in through the window from outside, punctuating the action with a loud meow. It shook its head and leaped on the bed to start licking itself. Briseis, took a deep settling breath as the surprise subsided.

"Shit, Osiris!" She put her hand over her heart, still regulating her breathing. "Scared the living shit outta me! You gotta stop running around town all hours of the night, giving it to every Sue, Jane and Mary that comes along." She closed the window and snapped the locks. Watching him blatantly lick his nether region, she shooed him off the bed. "No, no, hell no!  No ball licking on my bed!"

Micah silently cursed as the cat leaped down then sat in front of him, its pupils thin slits trained on him rumbling a growl deep in its throat. He hated dealing with the household pets. Especially cats.  They seemed to always know when reapers were around. Looking deep into them and acknowledging their presence when no one else could. Most humans just ignored their tell-tale behavior, but it didn't make it any less uncomfortable. When Micah flinched his eyes, Osiris aggressively hissed at him.

"Osiris! What's the deal with you, cat?" Briseis turned to see her life-long cat catching a fit at a corner full of nothing. "Don't get crazy in here, you stupid cat, I gotta date." She looked at the clock "Shit, I gotta go!" Quickly, she snatched her phone and threw it in her little leather bag, then walked past Osiris and turned off the bedroom light. 

As Micah heard her lock her front door, he glared at the cat. He could see Azrael's mark on the cat's body and frowned. This cat was resurrected. Everything that lived and breathed had a soul and Briseis must've brought the cat's soul back, bringing him to life.  Despite it being an animal, a life was a life and he was sure Azrael felt the same way. She didn't seem much like a necromancer, but this action alone was pretty damning.

Micah's face went dead serious and slowly leaned towards the cat. Osiris, still staring and growling with high and low pitches started to back up.

His tone dark with warning. "You better be ready to console your master, Osiris. For tonight will not be a pleasant one for her, I'm afraid."

With that, he vanished, following Briseis to her next destination.

Trying not to become a bundle of nerves, Briseis stayed to the side of the entrance of the restaurant, letting the cool fall breeze pass over her before walking in.  She gave herself a sigh, frustrated with her anxiety. C'mon Bree, it's not like you're meeting the man of your dreams today.  Just keep it calm, keep it cool. And for the love of God, don't be that chick!  As another couple went through the doors, Briseis smoothed her hair back and walked in to the hostess podium where a bubbly blond woman was working to help the couple before her get a table.

"Are you Bree?" A smooth, voice with just a hint of twang came from her left. Turning to follow the voice, her eyes met a pair of pretty greys attached to a tall, black-haired man.  He was dressed in a navy blue dress shirt, which did nothing to hide his toned physique, and a checkered silver tie. 

Bree took a small step back, a bit intimidated at his presence, then smiled. "Yes, I'm Bree. You must be Mark," she spoke through her smile as he leaned in and hugged her. Bree hugged him back, feeling almost swallowed by his mass. When he released her, she saw his dimples and a nervous smile. Though he was built to all get out, that smile of his was pretty disarming. The pictures didn't lie, he was a handsome guy.

"Yep, so good to finally meet you." Mark's eyes trailed along her body briefly. "You look amazing." 

Bree felt her cheeks heat. "Thank you."

As the hostess lead them to their table,  she listened to his mini rant about traffic and Bree offered a polite giggle as he pulled the chair out for her to sit. They both sat through a moment or two of awkward silence, until the waitress came by, standing in front of their table. 

"Good evening, what can I start you two off for drinks?" The dark-haired waitress asked with a beaming smile, setting menus down in front of them.

As they ordered their drinks, Micah, still incognito, sat across from them at an empty table. He was beginning to think he came at the wrong 48 hours. He wasn't up to hang around watching an awkward date unravel, but looks like he didn't have a choice. He needed to get on with it so he could go home. The restaurant had a deep aroma of basil, garlic and oregano with soft ambient music playing throughout the house.  Guess he could have been waiting in worse places. He's waited in cat houses, underground gambling rings, waited through drug busts. Surely, he could stand loitering in a little bistro while his witch mark and Mr. Clueless over there blunderbuss through their date. Sighing to himself, he crossed his arms and continued to watch his mark's date, who seemed to find every excuse in the world to touch her hand while talking to her.  

Briseis smiled every time he made contact, realizing the same ploy that Micah saw. 

Mark sat back in his chair and sighed. "I'm sorry, but I gotta say this. You have really pretty eyes." He smiled, watching Briseis' face begin to flush at his compliment. He had seen pictures of her, of course, but it really didn't do her justice. Long, dark hair and bright eyes squinting at him across the table as she smiled. 

"Thank you," she replied at the compliment. She got that a lot, but it didn't hurt to hear it again. "I've been told they are a rare shade.  The boys at school thought they were just creepy."

Mark shook his head. "Well, those boys were assholes. They're gorgeous." He sipped his tea and smiled at her.

Micah rolled his eyes at Mark's compliment. Hope she's ordering a dish with lots of cheese. 

They both looked up as the waitress sat down their drinks. She took a step back and pulled out her little order book. "Okay, you two, what can I get you guys for dinner tonight?" Her voice was obstructed a bit from the candy in her mouth as she spoke.

Mark kindly gestured to Briseis, who flipped her menu closed. "The lady first."

Briseis looked up at the cheerful waitress, then handed her the menu. "I'll have the lasagna and a side caesar salad."

"Awesome," the waitress happily replied, then turned to Mark. "And what will it be for you?"

Mark looked into the menu, then pointed at an item. "I'll take the spaghetti bolonese, no salad." He gently handed the menu to her.

The waitress nodded her head as she scribbled the order down.   She repeated their orders, shot a cutesy grin to both of them, then scurried off.  Briseis started to chuckle.

"What's funny?," Mark asked.

Briseis sobered from her laughter and sipped her sweet tea. "Nothing. I just really get tickled when people really dig their jobs.  It may not be glamorous or sexy, but to see a happy waitress doing her thing, with a genuine smile on her face is pretty awesome to see." 

Mark found himself nodding in agreement. "Is that how you feel about your job?," he asked. "When you told me what you did for a living, I found it fascinating.  I never really met a paramedic before. At least, not to really talk to or go out with." He watched as she toyed with her straw against her glass. "So how did you decide to be one? I know it's definitely not for everyone."

"Well, every job requires a particular personality.  Like our waitress.  I waited a few tables in high school, but I could tell you that I was not cut out for the job.  Remembering orders, checking up on folks, keeping them happy. Hauling heavy ass plates and meals...it was very hard work.  Not everyone can do what she does." Briseis smiled at him, feeling as it she was rambling on too long.  Most of the time, the most conversation she had was either with her Call of Duty group, her cat or her partner, Hal. When she did get to talk, often the few things worth saying, just got buried in small talk. The social media, superficial ramblings of strangers and mild acquaintances that wasn't fit to fall on ears of the living. Perhaps it was best, as deep conversation lead to bonding and she had no room for that kinda closeness in her life. But a knot formed in Briseis' throat, because Mark's last question always forced her to delve a bit deeper than she would like. "Being a paramedic found me, really. I've always thought it  was so cool to say you've helped save a life. So out of high school, took classes, studied to be an EMT and that's all she wrote. I'm now a Critical Care Paramedic and instruct EMT classes."

Mark sipped his water, listening to Briseis. He swallowed with a gulp and sighed. "Wow, so you teach as well?"

She nodded. "Yep."

"Shit, Bree," he said with a scoff. "How do you find time for that?"

She shrugged. How did she find time for anything? Her life ran on adrenaline, Tinder and coffee.  As long as all the gears kept turning and she was able to save someone from the dark--either naturally through her job or other means--life was running at optimal speed. "It's not so bad, but yes I'm very busy.  The long shifts as a Paramedic tend to see to that, but I have no regrets. I love the rush of getting out there and living in a world where split-second decisions could mean everything.  You can save the life of a person, never to see them again."

Or, you can resurrect them and get on the Angel of Death's shit list. Micah thought to himself, still sitting across from them. He admitted the idea of a gifted necromancer working as a paramedic, was pretty damn clever. Where else could a witch stay up close and personal to souls about to be claimed? He had no proof that was her modus operandi yet, but if he was to check the Eye of the Divine, he'd bet his wings that she was at least tempted to bring back someone.  In any case, it was his job to inform her of her crimes and dispense Azrael's warning. 

But sitting here waiting, watching the date unfold, was drowning him in anxiety.  If she takes him home, he would have an audience if he gave her the horror.  Most reapers wouldn't care, but he always considered warnings from a harbinger to be very personal.  If you're not careful, you run the risk of causing an unexplained scene in front of an innocent and that could led to unintended changes in that innocent's life. That's a huge no-no. 

No, he had to get her alone, so that meant her 'Loverboy' would have to go home empty handed. Micah groaned and banged his head on the table. The only plan he could think of that didn't involve restricting free will or giving her the horror in the presence of an innocent, was one where he had to role play...and finally become visible.

Micah shook his head and looked towards the ceiling. Why couldn't I have left my scruples at home?

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