"I'm taking you down buddy! I'm gonna bust several caps in that ass!"

Micah's eyes flew open at the loud threat followed by the sound of explosions and rapid gun fire through the walls. He sat up quickly from the bed, squinting as the sunlight burned his sleepy eyes. Rubbing them, he stumbled out of the bed to his feet. Inching to his bedroom door, he slightly cracked it open to see Briseis' long legs crossed on the coffee table and the television had a video game blaring. Micah briefly sighed and gently closed the door. A moment of realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he looked around at the bedroom then at his half-clothed body.

WTF? I slept?

Though most memories of last night were quite vivid, but he couldn't really remember much after he talked to Briseis in thde bathroom. He leaned against the door and raked his fingers through his tousled, golden hair and yawned.

Yep, definitely slept, he thought to himself. Great. Just one more charming inconvenience of being on this plane.

Pissed at himself, Micah snatched his shirt off the floor and stretched it over his sinewy torso. Finally stepping out the bedroom, he walked closer to the living room to see Briseis on the sofa yelling obscenities into a headset. Her fingers frantically tapping and clicking on the controller as her pin dot pupils stayed trained on the moving soldiers on the TV screen. Her lips pursed in deep concentration until a view of the half-asleep Micah strayed into her peripheral. Briseis quickly glanced up at him, then back at the game.

"Good mid-morning to you, sleepy head."

Micah rubbed his eyes and walked closer to the television, getting a better view of the type of game she was playing. He watched as she gunned down several soldiers and then her character proceeded to squat up and down on one of the bloodied deceased. Only then, did she break her trance of gaming to laugh maniacally.

"Haha. Teabagged! Boom!" Briseis yelled into the headset and grinned. Her bright eyes glanced up at him as she stretched her legs across the coffee table. "Hey guys, I'm gonna bow out for now. I may pop back on later." She slipped off the headset and shrugged at Micah's disapproving headshake appearing innocent. "What? This is how I relax."

He folded his arms. "This is how you relax? By brutally slaying avatars in a video game?"

Briseis reached for her mug and took a sip of her coffee. "I'm sensing judgment again, reaper." She sat back and looked him over, letting her eyes linger on him. His lightly stubbled face held a quiet expression, while he stood against the wall. He rubbed his eyes and she couldn't help laughing at him. Being sleepy faced was a good look for him. "No one's judging you and your sudden slacker attitude. Sleeping? And sleeping in too, it's almost Noon, you burnout." She folded her arms and mimicked his slow, but disapproving head shake.

Micah sighed. "Noon?" He groaned. "Shit." This was ridiculous. Who would want to sleep if you end up missing half the day? "I'm sorry, Briseis."

"For what? You don't owe me anything. It's my last off day before I hit the shift again. It's not like I was waiting for you to wake up or anything. So you got some much-needed rest in like what, ten thousand years? Good for you."

"No, you don't understand Briseis. I didn't want to sleep. I don't sleep." His voice was on the verge of cracking with uneasiness. He had to get some control somewhere and it just kept eluding him since he's been on this mission. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I'm not going to just walk into some reaper's bedroom and wake him up. If you've been around so long, then you should know how an alarm clock works and set one next time."

Micah raked his hair feverishly back and forth in efforts to wake up. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

Briseis' eyes greedily watched his lean frame ruffle his hair. The disheveled look he possessed made her mouth dry. Curiosity played the devil in her thoughts as she began to think in what cruel universe a guy built like Micah roams around her house with sex hair...without, you know...the sex. She goaded herself for such imagination. Sure, she couldn't help that the reaper sent to reprimand her happened to be freakin sex on a stick. Sure, she couldn't help that she was a hot-blooded woman with a pulse; the same woman that is nowadays too afraid to give herself some self-love because she's got a guest that looks like that in her home. It was the most ridiculous display of irony she's ever seen. Briseis also wished it was just that simple. But looking at him, she saw someone who allowed her to fall last night and let her pick herself up again. That dignity he offered her was a piece of kindness she honestly did not expect. But she appreciated it all the same. As her thoughts wandered, she flinched, accidentally meeting his eyes, and quickly diverted them back to the TV. "Well, you did last night and it must've been awesome too if you don't mind me saying so." She whispered to him in a mock sultry tone and then popped some kettle corn into her mouth. But try as she might, picking on him was too tempting to pass up.

He raised a curious eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

She gave him a surprised gawk and slid her legs from the coffee table to cross them at the knee. "What? You mean, you don't remember?"

Micah shook his head slowly, anxiety creeping onto his comely face. He stood there staring at the shit-eating grin his charge held on her face, fearing all the possibilities that could've happened last night that he couldn't remember. Micah's mouth went dry wondering if something occurred when his own emotions were trying to run high. Briseis was beautiful, he wasn't blind, but he silently prayed he wasn't stupid.

Briseis grinned as she chewed her snack. She could almost just see the little gears in his head crank up to supernatural speed. Damn, it's fun messing with him, she thought. . She stood up and walked over to him. She kept her eyes locked on him as she walked past him. Micah didn't move as she lifted her chin to speak into his ear. "Because you snore." Briseis smiled at hearing a light sigh of relief as she continued on into the kitchen. "Relax, Micah. I could hear you snoring through the door. And I've never dealt with a snorer before. Incredible."

"I snore?"

"Like a freight train, buddy. And here I thought angels slept peacefully and all graciously."

Micah grimaced at the annoying comparison. "I'm not an angel."

"No sir, you are not." Her voice deadpan as she filled a glass with water. She took a sip and cleared her throat. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Micah moved to the sofa, trying to get some distance from the alluring witch who's become his landlord. "No, thank you. I'm not hungry. Because, you know what? I don't eat." He almost barked it with conviction, as if it was some ironclad rule. He sat down and looked at the TV.

Briseis smiled, tickled at his resistence to what appeared to be the evitable. He was right; he was becoming more human with each passing day. "Guess this would be a bad time to bring this up, but while we're on the subject..."

He rubbed his head. "What now?"

"Oh nothing. Just could it be that you're not hungry because you've already had some melty melty goodness?? Hmmm?"

"What?" Micah's jaw dropped at the accusation. "What are you talking about?"

Briseis marched over to the fridge and pulled the pizza box out. Walking past the counter she opened the box to show a lone, half-eaten pizza slice. The rest was crumbs. "Unless there's another reaper in here snacking on melty melty goodness."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Micah frowned. At the same time, his thoughts dug up the remnants of last night and it did contain glimpses of him eating cold pizza. He didn't understand why she referred to it as melty goodness. The congealed food was hardly anything to write home about.

She shrugged. Briseis should've known he wouldn't accept it, but there was something mildly entertaining in seeing Micah resist his inner human. So far, it's been quite pleasing to his already interesting personality. It made her wonder what kinda man he was before he turned a dark angel of death. She popped some more kettle corn in her mouth. "Barely been a minute and already stealing food and lying about it. You learn fast."

Micah looked through her smile and quips and still saw the sad woman behind those eyes. Her defense mechanism was hard to decode at first, but after last night, he realized her genuine wittiness also protected her from questions. Questions he wanted to ask. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

His sincere voice rang true in her ears. Boy, was that a loaded question if she ever heard one. She didn't really care to continue thinking about last night. Weakness was never something she exposed--she just didn't. But he saw it and it couldn't be undone. "I'm assuming you're referring to my emotional breakdown last night." She quickly sobered and turned to the sink. "I'm fine." She grabbed a glass and poured from the tap. Briseis could still feel his eyes on her. The intense feeling of scrutiny prompted her to turn around to find him gazing at her with deep blues filled to the brim with concern. Funny, how could someone like him even care all that much? "What do you want me to say, Micah?"

Micah looked into her turquoise eyes, seeing uncertainty and shame. Shame. Why? There was nothing for her to be ashamed of. Nothing to be embarrassed about. She was human. Terribly, naturally, heartbreakingly human. It was then, staring at her, an envy crept within him. "I don't want you to say anything," he replied quietly.

"Good, then let's change the subject." she offered him a grandiose smile as she sipped her water. "I'm trying to stay in a decent mood today anyway. Now, about that pizza" she took another sip when there was a knock on the door. A grimace crossed her intrigued face as they both turned to the direction of the front door. "Who could that be?" Setting her glass down on the counter, she walks over to the door with Micah following behind her. Briseis stretched on her tiptoes to look through the peephole.

"Who is it?" Micah asked cautiously.

Briseis smiled. "Relax, you. Not everyone at the door is a criminal."

"Or another reaper," Micah added as he watched her open the door to a giant bouquet of red roses.

Briseis stood at the door as a short brown-haired delivery guy peaked out the right side. "Delivery for Bra...Bry...Breesay--"

"Yep, that's me." She replied as he handed her the massive bouquet. "Holy cow, is this from one whole bush?" she passed the vase to Micah. "I gotta sign. Here, hold this."

Micah moved his face back as the roses smacked him in the face. "Sure." He watched as Briseis scribbled something that resembled a signature on the form in the man's hands before he smiled.

"Enjoy your bouquet, ma'am." The delivery guy waved to them both as he jogged back to his van."

Briseis closed the door and turned to the giant rose bouquet as Micah held it as asked. She reached out and grabbed it. "Wonder who sent this," she asked. "One of your reaper friends? And why would you think one would be at the door?" Briseis walked the vase to the kitchen counter, then turned to him.

"Briseis, you may have forgotten, but I haven't. You are not well liked with reapers. Some may have taken offense to your past behaviors and I can't be too careful."

They both looked at the bouquet and Micah watched Briseis reach for the card with wide joyful eyes, picking out a long stem rose and putting it gently to her nose. She laughed.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"Nothing." She giggled. "They smell like you." She opened the little envelope and pulled out a card. Micah watched curiously as she read in silence, smelling the soft petals of the rose in her other hand.

His eyes followed the gleam in hers and a feeling that was once intrigue, now seemed threatening. He didn't remember her having a romantic interest somewhere. Micah crossed his arms. "Is everything okay?" he asked not so innocently.

Briseis put the rose back in the large vase. Turning to Micah, she still held a small smile on her face and shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. This was from Marc. You know, the guy you spilled food all over?"

Micah raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes. How could I forget? Mr. Clueless." He finally recalled the incident in his head. Besides the guy having the most ridiculous hair and trite pick-up lines, there wasn't much from him that stood out. He stared at the giant display of apology in the form of beautiful, rich blooms of roses. That asshole couldn't be bothered to walk her safely to her car after she shut him down. Now he was sending her flowers? "An apology?"

Briseis barely heard Micah grumble his question. "Yeah, I think so." The sound of her phone ringing broke her attention and ran over to the sofa to where it rested on the coffee table. Sliding the button to answer, she pressed the phone to her lips. "Hey there." She replied and walked back past Micah. "Yes, I did receive them and they're beautiful. I never got roses before, so thank you for the gesture." Micah watched Briseis walk past him and into her room, closing the door.

Micah picked up a rose and put it to his nose, breathing in the fresh floral scent that was so familiar to him. He stood and examined the giant spray of crimson roses. Seemed like someone wanted to get back into the game. His eyes cut to her closed bedroom door as he heard a soft laugh from the other side. He should've been happy someone brightened her day. Even if it was Mr. Clueless; he deserved to make amends with her.

But as Micah thought about that smile and glimmer of joy in her eyes as she admired the roses given from Marc, his muscles tensed in his body. Rigid and perplexed, a surge of anxiety overwhelmed him. He couldn't deny a desire within them that wanted to be the one responsible for that happiness. That joy which brightened her spirit behind those turquoise gems. Anticipation urged him closer to her door, curious on what they were talking about. The feeling so strong, Micah stopped just short of her bedroom before turning around forcing himself to her spot on the sofa. With a sigh, he rubbed his face with his hands vigorously. This was insane. Why should he care what the hell she and Mr. Clueless is talking about? He's seen it a million times. Guy meets girl. Guy shows true self. Girl gets pissed. Guy gives girl something shiny or pretty to convince her that what she saw was just a one-time illusion, yada, yada, yada. The pattern is as old as time. So, once again, why should I care? he asked himself, knowing answers were too dangerous to acknowledge.

"Bree? You back on dude? Where are you?" a voice from the headset interrupted his thinking. Micah stared down at the device as if it was talking to him. "Bree? Are you there?"

Micah grimaced. Were they worried about her or something? He hesitantly picked up the headset and put it over his ears. "Uh, this isn't Bree. She's safe, though."

"Cool. What's your name, dude?" a young voice asked through the headset.

"Micah."

"Cool. Hey, you wanna play man? We could use another player. We were hoping Bree would come back to the game."

Micah frowned at the screen. "Uhhh...I don't know how to play. Sorry, but I wouldn't be much help."

The sound of the door caught his attention as Briseis walked out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the kitchen to grab some water. Micah immediately pulled off the headset and stood up. As soon as his eyes caught the glossy, watery sheen in hers, he walked over to the counter. "What's wrong?"

Briseis sighed and gulped some water. "Nothing." She blinked back the sorrow from her eyes and put on a superficial smile. She watched the intensity of his stare heighten, seeing past the facade with impressive quickness. Briseis shrugged. She knew better, but it was worth a try. "I'm fine."

Micah frowned. "Did he threaten or offend you?"

Briseis scoffed, shaking her head. "That would at least explain my feelings right now, but no. In fact, he was nothing but super sweet to me. He apologized for his behavior at our date and even politely asked to take me out if I was free tonight."

Micah's eyes shifted down to the floor. "I see. You're right. That's not anything to be upset about." He glanced back up to her. "Sounds like good news. So why are you upset?"

She sucked in a breath as if to make a horrible confession. "I just couldn't find it in myself to go tonight. Today is my mother's birthday. She would've been 55 years old."

Micah watched her wipe a rogue tear from her eyes as his thoughts focused on the memory of her on that rooftop crying. "I'm sorry, Briseis."

"The flowers were a pleasant pick me up. It really was. But I just don't feel like going out and being a member of society today. So I turned him down, like an idiot." She pushed her hair back, and sniffled. "I just don't understand what's wrong with me."

Micah pulled up the stool closest to her and sat down. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it to her. "There's nothing wrong with you, Bree. You're hurting. But I have to ask. Do you shut yourself out from everything today because you've always done it? Or do you do it because you're afraid to do anything else?"

Briseis gently wiped her eyes with his linen handkerchief. "What do you mean?"

"Are you truly happy celebrating your mother's birthday like this? Alone. Sad. Playing video games with people who've never seen your face?" He lowered his head to meet her gaze.

Briseis looked away with a sigh. That one word in his question never seemed to be the focus since her mother died. Celebrate. To honor and praise open and publicly. Everytime her mom's birthday reared around, all she could do is hanker down at home, lounging in her sweatpants, eating day old pizza. She realized how pathetic it seemed, but it had became a tradition and traditions are old habits to break. "My mother loved birthdays."

"So, are you truly happy celebrating--"

"No." She breathed a sigh, crossing her arms. "I'm not, but it's not like I know truly what to do."

Micah nodded. "What did you and your mother do on her birthday?"

"Nothing special. We'd go out to eat somewhere and usually hit a dance hall." Briseis smiled at a memory of her mother teaching her a zydeco waltz. "She loved to dance. She always believed that birthdays were special because the more you had them, the wiser and more beautiful things would become." Briseis looked at Micah, realizing what he was getting at. "But what right do I have to celebrate when I should be mourning her?"

Micah was floored. Briseis lived this way because she thought happiness was an insult to the ones she lost. He wished she understood that nothing could be further from the truth. "Briseis." He leaned over, gently putting his hand over her hand that braced her on the counter. "Sooner or later, you're going to have to learn living for yourself. And that mourning has a shorter need than celebration. We mourn because we miss, but we celebrate...because we love."

The words struck her so deeply another tear ran down her face and dropped on his hand. He was right. She missed her mother, but she loved her always. This wouldn't be how her mother would want her to treat her birthday. She always knew that, but the action to treat it joyously felt obscene. Some of her most fun memories came from celebrating birthdays and holidays with her mom, who never passed up an opportunity to make a special occasion. Not moping around in jammies playing "Call of Duty." She gazed up at a curious, but concerned Micah. She wished he was smug. Or pompous. Just anything to turn her off from the reaper sitting across the counter, trying to give her comfort when he should be threatening her. The heat of his hand knocked the chill from her body, bridging a very tender gap that deep down she desperately needed. The moment she realized she would've given anything for him to squeeze her hand again, her defenses kicked in.

"Ugh. Can you at least try to be wrong sometimes instead of popping into my life being Mr. Know it all?" She smiled at him.

Micah smiled. "I wouldn't be much of a reaper if I didn't understand pain, Briseis. I know that in spades." He swallowed the pride building up in him as she watched her. It almost physically pained him to say his next response to her, but he needed to see that smile again. She was too warm to live so coldly. Micah offered her a gentle smile. "It's not too late to do something about this birthday thing, you know. I'm sure...Marc...will be happy to learn you changed your mind." Micah slid off the stool, and strode over to the sofa. He hit the remote to regular television and he jumped at the sound change from silence to the loud preaching of an evangelist on the screen. The man was sweating profusely under the bright lights and wore a headset similar to what Briseis had on her head earlier. Micah frowned at the jarring speech about honoring the Savior and repenting. "Who's this terrifying creature?"

Briseis shifted her body to get a view of New Orleans' favorite preacher on the screen. A gentle laugh tickled out of her. "That's Reverand Jonah. I heard that he was on Oprah one time. He's got a megachurch in Harvey, because it was too big and expensive to put anywhere else."

Micah finally sat down hearing the evangelist warnings about pride, lust and envy. He seemed a bit more youthful than his voice let on for if Micah's eyes were closed, he would've guessed the Reverend to be closer to his fifties or sixties. But the black suited man looked closer to his mid-thirties. He's heard countless prophets, ministers and would-be idols and most were just painfully misguided. A chill ran down Micah's spine as he looked into Jonah's baby blues and quickly changed the channel.

Briseis looked at the bouquet and sighed. She could call Marc back. But as she toyed with the envelope next to her, her eyes floated to Micah. No doubt, there was something oddly comfortable with him. Perhaps it was because he knew so much about her. Or maybe the fact that he has proven not to hastily judge her. Going out would be a new experience for her. One that she just didn't feel comfortable sharing with Marc. It wasn't fair to him, but he felt like an outsider and one who would either see her fragile and sugar coat everything or crazy and just dismiss her.

Briseis walked over to Micah, standing between him and the television. Blinking, he looked up at the little smirk on her face and the devious glint of mischief in her eyes. With long legs slightly parted, her curvaceous body loomed over him. Her stance so close, it was almost intimate; he couldn't avoid staring at her. His face lit with innocence. "What?"

"You're right. I should go out tonight. Grab some food, enjoy the nightlife a bit."

He shrugged, wishing she would drop the subject for his own selfish reasons. "That's good. I'll stay here to give you some privacy. Doubt you would go and violate our agreement while painting the town red."

Briseis tilted her head. "Well, that would be pretty difficult, considering you're going to be my date."

Micah's eyes widened. "Huh?"

She laughed and leaned over, watching him try his hardest not to stare down the length of her shirt. "You heard me. This was your idea anyway." She pulled back and folded her arms. "Now wash up. We're going out in honor of Tara Devareaux. And you sir, are my handsome date." She winked and pranced into her room, slamming the door to get dressed.

Micah didn't move, but couldn't take his eyes off the door to her bedroom. The faint sound of her humming a tune and the spray of the shower, drowned out the piercing cadence of Reverend Jonah on the television.

"A date?"

###

Haha! Somebody is going to paint the town red! Poor Micah. Do you think Briseis made the right choice? I think it's really cute that Micah was a bit jealous, but still did not let that get in the way of helping Bree get out of that funk and do something fun to celebrate her mother's life. Next up: A Date with Death :)