Work Text:
Guardian Angel
by Sam-Tony
“Parker, look out!”
Time seemed to slow as the rookie panicked, the gun he held pointed in the air going off, shooting out the plate glass ceiling of the night club he and Parker were currently canvassing for their latest job.
Time still thick and liquid, Eliot grabbed a hold of Parker, twisting and tucking the thief under his own body as time sped up and the deadly glass rained down on them, ready to tear them to bloody ribbons if not for the dove gray wings now spread over both of them.
Only when the loud tinkling of falling glass fell into silence did Eliot begin to relax the tight line he held over Parker. He knew without looking that the guards had taken cover in the hallway, leaving only the two of them trapped in the middle of the empty dance floor. A quick twist of his mind and the doors to the hall slammed shut and locked, giving them the few moments of privacy they would need to make their escape.
Standing up and shaking the pulverized glass from his hair (and his wings, though those were pretty much invisible to the human world) Eliot made sure none of the shards were lurking under the blue tshirt to bite him before turning to Parker and doing the same.
“You all right?”
The blond was glassy-eyed and dazed - in shock, but otherwise unharmed. “I…what happened?” The shrill voice was already an octave above that she used when she was excited about something, and heading into hysterical; if they were going to make it out before the cops broke down the door, they had to go - now.
“Come on, “ Eliot told her, holding out a hand to get her moving, coaxing, “I’ll buy you some ice cream.”
Eliot had just caught her hand and turned when she called out - “I see you!” - as if him denying it would actually excuse and make unreal what she had just seen.
Eliot turned, the tension falling from his shoulders as he smiled, nodding. “I know.”
The angel had known Parker was one of the few who could see him for what he was long ago. Now she knew it, too.
Her hand in his tightened until he stopped and turned back, where she pressed a kiss against his cheek, smiling that girlish giggle that always managed to make him smile. “My room, tonight,” she told him, leaning in close to whisper, “Get all that glass out of those pretty feathers. And other places. Thank my own personal guardian angel for saving me.”
Eliot could only chuckle, body tightening in anticipation, just as they ducked out into the sunshine out back, cops spilling into the front of the club in a clueless flood of law enforcement.
Trust Parker to think of sex as a perfectly good way of thanking an angel for saving her life. He liked the way her mind worked.
End