baronessekat | 2014 writing challenge

Cats don’t care if you are sick. Well, at least the one that I live with doesn’t ever seem to care when I am, and this was a prime example.

I woke up to the feel of the bed being jumped on and then moving as the massive feline walked his way up my side to then sit on my pillow. I kept my eyes closed and tried to pretend I was still asleep. He wasn’t buying it. I cracked an eye open to see two very green eyes about three inches from my nose, glaring at me.

“Go away,” I groaned and rolled over. My head spun and I was overcome with a fit of coughing. But he was not hearing me. Instead he walked around my head and sat next to my face again. This time though, he reached out and smacked me on the cheek.

“Hey!” I mumbled and tried to swat at him. He just ducked and meowed at me. “Seriously, Logan, go away. I’m sick.” He smacked me again and meowed again.

I sighed and looked at the clock. It read 9:00. That got my attention. I had laid down for a nap right after lunch. A quick glance out the window confirmed it was after dark. No wonder he was being a pain. Groaning I sat up. This did not make my head feel any better.

Logan hopped down heavily and went to my bedroom door. He looked over his shoulder and yelled at me again. “Yeah, yeah. Gimme a minute,” I grumbled as I slid my feet into my old battered pair of slippers and pulled my grandmother’s quilt around my shoulders.

I took it as a great personal accomplishment that I did not, in fact, fall down the stairs as I followed the grumbling cat. As I passed through the family room to the front hall, I saw Fluffy lift his head from his dog bed in the corner and tilt it inquisitively. I just waved my hand towards him in a vague gesture of recognition and headed to the front door, where Logan stood getting louder and louder with his yowls.

I used my foot to push the cat to the side so I could actually open the door. As soon as there was enough room for him to fit, he darted out to get to his evening rambles. I never knew where he went, nor did I particularly care. I had never wanted a cat. Cats, as far as I was concerned were for keeping barns free of rodents. Not for companions in the house. I had been living in my current place for about a year when one day, this battered tom cat appeared at my door and demanded to be let in. I was able to resist for a while but eventually he managed to get into the house and took up residence. I tried throwing him out, but he kept showing back up. It finally got to the point that I just didn’t bother trying to stop him.

I gave him the name Logan because he was on the older side, ornery as all get out, had some rather impressive whiskers and had wickedly sharp claws. He never complained when I called him it so the name stuck.

With every intention of getting something to drink and going back to bed, and maybe take some cold meds first, I tried to close the door. I say tried because something prevented it from closing all the way. Blearily, I looked down and sighed. What was stopping me from closing the door was a large manila envelope, roughly one inch thick with my name neatly written on it. I didn’t need to open it to know what it was. It was a dossier. I carefully bent over, picked up the envelope and closed the door. Not bothering to open it, I carried it to my home office and dropped it on my desk. With a groan I sat down, flicking on my computer as I did so.

I huddled into my quilt and opened my email. Yep… there at the top was an email confirmation of a plane ticket to… oh heck no am I flying to Des Moines tomorrow feeling like this. I forwarded the confirmation to my contact with the simple statement “I decline”. Pushing send I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

I felt, rather than heard, the presence arrive in the room. I slowly opened my eyes and looked into the soft hazel eyes of Jegundiel. Of all the Archangels I have known, he appeared to me as the shortest, barely 5’6”. His hair was always a mousey shade of brown that always seemed to be in need of a brush. But unlike Michael, he never seemed the need to show off his wings. Instead he stood before me, looking like a perfectly normal human in baggy jeans and a black t-shirt with a small flaming crown embroidered on the pocket.

“What do you mean you decline?” he demanded.

As a response I sneezed and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, as I had forgotten to replace the box of tissues in this room. He stepped back and pulled a face.

“I mean, I am not taking the assignment. I’m sick. I’m staying home.”

He shook his head. “That is not acceptable. You were specifically appointed for this mission. You cannot decline,” he said, denial coloring his voice.

“Too bad. Give it to someone else.”

He crossed his arms in front of him and shook his head. “You’re the only one who has the skills to do it.”

I coughed again and shook my head. “Bullshit.” That made him blink. “There are any number of Warriors who have the same skills and training as I do. Not to mention are younger than me. No one is indispensable. I am sick. I am tired. I just want to take my cold meds and go back to bed. Find someone else.”

Jegundiel narrowed his eyes and examined me. “Let me get Raphael. He’ll set you right and you’ll be able to go.”

I stood up, clinging to the quilt so it would not fall off. “No. I do not need angelic intervention for a cold. I just need to let it run its course. In the twenty-four years that I have served, not once, in all that time, have I disobeyed a direct order or asked for any really special favors. But I also think in recognition of those years, I could ask to be excused from just one mission.

“Just let me go back to bed and give the assignment to someone else. Jacob’s been showing his stuff. Let him take it. Or Jessica or Sergei or Marcus or…”

He held up his hands. “I get it. Hold on for a moment.” He went utterly still and closed his eyes. I knew better than to disturb an angel when he was in communion, so I sat back down and waited. I sniffled loudly and sighed. I hated being sick, but I also knew that as a mere mortal human, I sometimes had to allow my body to be sick. If I asked for angelic healing every time I had a sniffle, I would never build up an immunity, even if that healing came from an actual Archangel.

Jegundiel’s eyes fluttered and his gaze landed on me. He frowned. I didn’t like that frown.

“You are excused from this assignment,” he said flatly. That explained the frown. He may be the Archangel that gives the assignments to the Warriors, but there is always someone higher in the food chain and apparently that someone countermanded him. I had a feeling I was going t hate my next assignment. Angels, for the most part, are fanatics. And they very rarely see things in shades of anything but black and white. Yes, no. Good, bad. Light, Infernal. And Heavenly missions fell under the “do it” category, not the “if you feel like it” one. And I’ve seen Jegundiel annoyed before. Usually those that have envoked that annoyance end up with crap assignments. The twelve labors of Hercules… yeah, I can hope to be that lucky.

I nodded shallowly. “Thank you.” I would have said more but a fit of coughing seized me and I had to fight to get it back under control. He made another disgusted face and stepped another pace back away from me. When I was able to breathe again I made eye contact with him. “I appreciate the consideration and ask to please be excused for the next week. Mortal head colds usually take about seven to ten days to run their course.”

He curled a lip and snorted. “You have five. If you are not fit to take the next assignment that is sent to you, I will consult with Raphael and someone will heal you. The next mission you get, will not be optional.”

I suppressed a sigh. “I understand.” He nodded once and vanished. Once I knew he was gone completely I muttered, “Asshole.” I wasn’t particularly worried about fall out for the name calling. I’ve called him worse, and to his face.

I rose, pulling my quilt around me and reached for the dossier to dispose of, only to find it gone. A glance to the computer already showed the notification of the plane ticket cancellation. I shrugged and accepted the victory.
No use wondering any further. I shuffled out of the office, collected up a glass of water and some cold meds and headed back to bed. I was going to take advantage of the chance to rest while I could. Come five days from now, life was going to get interesting.

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