Briseis jumped with a start as her phone alarm began to erupt with loud MIDI keyboard melody. She reached over and grabbed it, squinting as she tried to check the time. Sliding her finger to turn the alarm off, she grunted and closed her eyes again. She collapsed back onto the bed. Sleep still wanted to cuddle with her and the warm blankets made the suggestion so tempting.

Until she remembered last night. 

Briseis sat up again and turned on her bedside light, scanning her bedroom for any visitors. The reaper had some nerve, all right. But at least he left her to her own devices for now. Last night was one of the strangest nights she'd experienced in a while, and considering she spent her life literally raising the dead, that was saying something. If someone told her she would find a reaper in her kitchen, she would've laughed her ass off...kinda. That is until she realized he looked nothing like she'd expect a reaper to look like. He was, without a doubt, one of the most attractive creature she'd ever seen. So finding a hot angel of death in her house should've been a good thing...except for the whole angel of death part. That part sucked. She grabbed her other pillow and pulled it to her face in angst. I've got some serious problems with the men I attract.

Briseis opened the door to her bedroom and proceeded to the kitchen, dragging her body in hopes to conjure more energy. She grabbed a glass and poured herself some water from the icemaker on her fridge, when her bright eyes caught the familiar reaper sitting in the one clear spot on her sofa. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or awake at that angle, but he was definitely sitting upright. And definitely there. The sight almost made her drop her glass. She moved closer to make sure her eyes didn't deceive her. "What the fuck?"

Micah turned and saw Briseis standing next to the club chair. "Good morning."

She laughed weakly, but eyed him like a hawk. "Is this a joke? What are you doing here?" She looked around and realized he was rather cozy in the living room. Just sitting in her spot like he owned the damn place. Like he was sitting there long before she woke up. "Were you here all night? On my sofa?"

Micah stood up from the couch. He honestly couldn't wait until she woke up. All night, he was trying to get the words right in his head to explain the situation they were in. To him, they were indeed in this fix together. "Well, yes. You see, I--"

Briseis put her hand up, briefly closing her eyes. "Were you sleeping here? Why?"

"I don't sleep."

Briseis arched an eyebrow.

"Well, at least not right now. My body isn't used to it yet, but as I stay down here on the mortal coil, I'll become more...human."

 "Huh?"

Micah sighed. "I'll start getting tired at some point and my body will allow me to sleep. Right now, I have no need for it, so I've been just sitting here trying to be quiet till you woke up." He put his hands casually behind his back. "Did your migraine go away?"

"Don't change the subject." She frowned at him. "Why are you still here? We did the whole formal pact super secret handshake thing last night, right?"

"Yes. But the deal requires me to stay grounded. You see,  I cannot leave this plane until our deal is done and your gift relinquished."

Briseis' jaw dropped. "You can't be serious." She looked around and sighed. "You have to... stay with me? Like live..." She pointed to the floor. "In this house, where I sleep?"

Micah began to walk towards her. "Look, I understand that this is very surprising and maybe even a bit unnerving for you, but--"

"Nah, nah, nah, nah" She waved her hand. "This is bonkers! What the hell am I supposed to do with a reaper?"

Micah frowned. What did she think he was? A dog that got dropped off at her doorstep? "I'm not a pet, Briseis Devareaux. You don't  need to do anything with me.  I just require a place to stay for the brief time I'm here. I cannot find a place of my own on the mortal coil.  To do that, I would have to interact with too many people, create false identities and such that will cause far too many questions."

Briseis smoothed her hair back from her face. "Oh, and suddenly having a grown ass man living in my house, that wears black and smells like a Glade plug-in will be totally plausible for me?"

Micah raked his fingers through his blonde hair and sighed. Was nothing easy for him? "I'm sorry, but there isn't much choice. If its any consolation, I'm just as apprehensive of the situation as you are." If not more, he thought to himself.

Briseis looked up at the ceiling as if to speak to a higher power. "OMG, whatever did I do to deserve this?" She shook her head and finally looked back down to Micah. This was way more of a travesty than she imagined. Not only does she have to have the reaper watch her at work and monitor who she resurrects and how, but he also gets to be her live-in probation officer.  She never had anyone live with her before. The idea of sharing a space with someone else other than her cat multiplied her anxiety by a hundred fold. She was too set in her ways to deal with anyone upsetting the routines in her lifestyle. Let alone a reaper who is apparently less pleased to be trapped there than she was. "This is only until the deal is complete, yeah?"

Micah nodded. He moved past the chair and stood only a few feet from her. "You'll barely know I'm here."

Somehow she found that part hard to believe. Briseis stood still, watching him move through her house. He moved like water and so fluid as if he almost floated. The reaper's intensity behind his gorgeous blue eyes seemed to take the air out of the room. Yeah, his presence couldn't be ignored if she tried. Well, I never said that he wasn't ridiculously gorgeous. I just said that clearly I need therapy to swoon all over him. She wondered if such a distraction in her home should even be tolerated, but she knew it was beyond her control now, anyway.

Regardless of her obvious reservations, she made a deal and Briseis certainly wasn't about to renege twice. She sighed and walked to the linen closet. Grabbing some sheets and pillowcases, she met his blue eyes. "Come with me." 

Briseis went around the corner to a room next to the back door as Micah trailed behind.  Her arms full, she clumsily opened the door and turned on the light with her elbow.  She had to be careful to maneuver around the towers of boxes, stocked like brown columns in random areas of the bedroom. 

Micah silently followed in, looking around at the boxes and random items. If it wasn't for the full sized bed and chest , he would've just thought it was a storage room. Some boxes were labeled 'Mom's' and 'House Salvage'. Even a few generically labeled as 'Bree's Crap'. The dust fluttered into the air as Briseis grabbed the old comforter off the bed and snapped it. She coughed a bit and finally a sneeze. He watched as the sunlight capture the chaos of dust particles flying about the room afterwards. Finally, on impulse, his voice broke through the silence. "Bless you."

Briseis rubbed her nose and set the sheets on the nightstand, sniffling. "Thanks." She gathered the comforter up into her hands. "This is a spare room so you're welcome to stay here if you want." Briseis' voice was mellow, unsure of how she was feeling. She looked around the room until she focused on Micah. "It's not much but it's four walls and a roof and you can do with it what you will. I'll... uh, wash this comforter later today. This house can get a little drafty at night."

Micah walked around and finally met her eyes. "This is fine. Thanks." The air between them held an awkward tension that was pretty hard to avoid. He knew he was a stranger. She didn't even know his name and yet she had to keep him in her home. It felt a bit like bullying and it made him uneasy. 

She grunted. "Yeah, well it smells a bit musty in here, but I'm sure that with your perpetual B.O. of beautiful flowers, you'll knock that out in no time. Enjoy." As Briseis bunched up the comforter to keep it from escaping her arms, she proceeded to move past him. 

"Briseis Devareaux...," Micah called to her.

Briseis stopped and turned around. "You know, you don't have to address me by my first and last name. Briseis or Bree is totally fine. I'll answer to both, though only bill collectors call me Briseis."

Micah didn't quite understand that, but in a way, he was a bill collector. Calling her Bree seemed way too familiar for his comfort. He just politely nodded. "Okay... Briseis. My name is Micah."

Briseis gave a small smile. "Who is like God?"

Micah arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Your name,"Briseis continued. "That's what it means."

Micah nodded. "Yes, you're right."

Briseis shrugged offering a nervous laugh. "My mom had a Jewish co-worker whose husband was named Micah." She paused a bit, unsure on what to really say. Was she trying to have a conversation with him? Briseis wasn't sure. All she knew was that they both kinda stood there looking at each other like idiots. It appeared that neither of them was good at being around other people. Fantastic.

Bree, just walk...away.

She finally cleared her throat. "So, uh, the guest bathroom is down the hall and looks like you're already familiar with the kitchen and living room."

Before Micah could say anything, she quickly walked off, leaving him to his own devices in the cluttered room. He walked around the area filled with the miscellaneous remnants of Briseis' past. His hands roamed over the dusty pictures of a younger version of her playing soccer, another of her even younger with missing front teeth smiling and one in her fifth grade graduation with her mother, Tara. She was all smiles, her turquoise eyes barely visible from her high cheeks causing her to squint. Her mother next to her embraced her from behind, looking the quintessential proud mother. He picked up the photo and let his fingers run along the edge of the frame. Micah immediately stopped, wincing as he felt a wire edge nick his thumb.  

Pulling his hand up, he noticed a pin drop of blood forming on his thumb. He put it in his mouth and froze as he tasted the metallic flavor of his blood. The numbness in his fingers and tongue was already gone. He thought he was just imagining it when he shook her hand last night, but it was true.  His senses were slowly coming back now that he was grounded. Setting the picture down on the chest, he stepped back feeling suddenly out of place as a mixture of curious fascination and mild concern hit him.  His fingers then ran over the engraving in the furniture, letting it trail along the elaborate scroll design. The nuances and roughness of the wood against his fingertips intrigued him. 

"Cool," he whispered to himself.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar animal growl behind him. Micah stopped his strange examination of the furniture only to turn and see his feline nemesis at the foot of the bedroom door. The tabby whipped his tail back and forth, eyeing him like Micah was a challenge.

With a scoff, Micah stood facing him, slowly crossing his arms as Osiris' growling escalated. "Well, if it isn't the zombie cat from oblivion. You can relax, I didn't come here for you so you can stop ratting me out."

Osiris hissed, his fur standing up on his back.

"What are you doing?" Briseis' yelled out, coming in like a protective mother. She scooped up Osiris and scowled at Micah. "Did...did I just hear you tough talk my cat?"

"I think he hates me."

Briseis rolled her eyes, rubbing Osiris' head as he purred contently in her arms. "Well, can you blame him? You're in his hideout room. He wasn't expecting a roommate."

Micah leaned against the chest. "He can have free reign of the room as long as he doesn't try to claw my throat or he's going back to where his nine lives were cashed out." Micah kept staring at the cat until the tension popped between them.

Briseis suddenly jumped as Osiris bolted out of her arms and ran out the room. She hissed as his claw dug a little too deep and scratched her good, leaving a red slash. "Ow!" She instinctively grabbed her arm and inspected the scratch. "What the hell do you have against cats? Now you've got him riled up and pissed."

Micah reached into his pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief. Not even thinking, he stepped forward and put the handkerchief gently on her bloody scratch. "Here, just put some pressure there for a bit." The warmth of her body as he invaded her proximity was again compelling to him. That peacefulness--it haunted him when he was near her like this. The coy light of his world felt nothing like this. It started to nick away at the comforting, dull numbness that he was used to. Even faster than it was already deteriorating from him being grounded. Common sense begged him to pull away, but something in him wasn't so sure. He gently removed his fingers from the cloth as she held it on her own. Clearing his throat, he stepped back as her enchanting eyes looked up at him.

Briseis was trying to remember what she was going to say, but the guy was like a mirage after a year's drought. Forget the darkness that blurred his aura. He was horribly masculine and as he tried to awkwardly come to her nursing rescue, she felt the curve of her lips twitch into a smirk. She pressed down and dabbed the scratch. "Thank you. His name is Osiris." 

"Interesting name for a cat." 

Briseis shrugged. "He's different. But he's usually a pretty chill cat." She shook her head. "It's so strange though for him to be in such a hissy fit all of a sudden. I've never really seen him so..." Briseis voice trailed off. 

Micah stood quiet as Briseis eyes widened at him. Her expression a cross between anger and shock. Great, what did I do this time?

Briseis sneered at him with suspicion. "A couple of nights ago, Osiris was cutting up just like this. Acting all weird growling, and staring into blank spaces. He definitely felt threatened by whatever was there."

Shit.

Lying wasn't much his forte, but by the look of her face, the truth wouldn't do him any favors either. "Briseis..."

"You were spying on me, weren't you?  You were in here, invisible like some creeper watching me? I couldn't see you, but O did, didn't he?"

"I wasn't trying to be inappropriate. I was just doing my job." Micah took a step back. There was a pit in his stomach that was growing and he named it guilt. 

Those times where she felt she wasn't alone--she was right.  He was there. Oh God, how much of me as he seen? Shower time? Frisky vibrator time? Her cheeks flushed red at the mere idea of it and she snapped. 

"Arrggh!" Briseis picked up the decorative pillow from the bed and threw it at him where it bounced against his chest. "Okay! We have a new rule in this house while you're here. And Heaven help you if you break it! There will be no creepy invisible spying in this house while you're...grounded or whatever!" Briseis stepped back towards the door, pushing her hair back. "This is my home and I need to feel I have some privacy here. Do we understand each other?"

Micah quietly nodded. He stared at her cheeks mottled red and the little 'v' that formed between her eyebrows. She was mortified and angry, but saying anything but compliance would most likely upset her again. It shouldn't have bothered him for her to be angry at him, because he really was doing his job. However, he wished he could make her understand that he meant her no harm. Even when he stayed a bit longer as she fell asleep, Micah never crossed the line. But she wouldn't understand, and maybe that was for the best. Getting close was not the best idea. "Understood."

Briseis huffed. "Good." She immediately did an about-face and left the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. 

The force of the slamming knocked a picture off the wall, sending it crashing to the floor. Micah walked over past the bed and squatted down to pick up the picture.  Beyond the cracked glass and wood frame was a smiling Briseis in her EMT dress uniform and cap. She stood next to a guy shaking hands as she was holding a plaque for EMT of the Year. She seemed so happy in the picture. Her long hair twisted into a large bun behind her neck and her turquoise eyes capturing his through the photo. So far, he didn't see her smile much, but considering the circumstances, it was easy to understand. A few other scattered plaques were stacked on the dresser for various recognition in her field. He wasn't surprised but realized that all she really had was her job, that asshole of a cat, her house and necromancy. No husband. No boyfriend. No family. Barely any friends. Why did she keep her existence so minimal? But as he looked around the room full of her past, he knew the answer. She was trading living to save others. Giving them another chance at life, while hers teetered into solitude. 

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