<div class="floatright">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Pretty%20Gals/fanbingbing11.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">________________________♥____ <strong><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: papyrus;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim</span></span></em></strong></div><br/><div style="text-align: right;">_______________♥____<em><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Location:</span></span>Ambrosia's with dear Nick</strong></em></div><br/><br/>The acrid curls of smoke rushed at her face, curling around her.  She scrunched her nose at him, her hand waving away cloud.  It didn't bother her.  Maybe at one time it would have.  She would have maybe rushed him from across the table and began a brawl of epic proportions.  Instead she smiled.  What else was there to do.  The petty no longer bothered her.  It just told her they had been at this too long.  She looked down, surprised that his hand was touching hers, and raised a feathery brow, her eyes searching the handsome features of his Latin face.  It was a nice face.  She looked back down at his hand as if his question filled her with guilt, or as close to guilt as she could feel.<br/><br/>"Aza...Nick.  Don't think that because I am still an Angel, that it has been good for me.  I was an Angel of Love.  My job was to nurture the humans in there needs.  I took it too far and I still will.  But...they punished me in the worst way.  I'm used to it now.  I think I may even like it.  Dealing out justice isn't so bad.  I miss it, though.  I have forgotten how it is to bring love and joy.  I'm no better than if I had Fallen and they won't let me, " she said, sighing wistfully.  She had been rubbing her thumb over his hand as if soothing herself.  It still stung, the Change.<br/><br/>The memory of the other Seraphim holding her down, refusing to let her make the Fall.  She could only kick and scream as they dragged her away in chains of gold and ripped her wings of purest white from her back to be replaced with the grey tipped in black.  Her screams had shook the Heavens.  The spree of dark Justice she had meted out was terrible in her anger.  When she had settled, she was resigned and now her assignment was to wait on Armageddon.  Whenever that was.<br/><br/>"Don't be hasty in casting your blame on Him.  He has a plan.  What it is, I have no idea," she said, not entirely convinced that she believed herself anymore.  She motioned for the waiter and gave him her order.  The waiter brought her a glass of white chablis, the cold flute beading with condensation.  She ran a finger in the droplets before looking at Nick.<br/><br/>"You want a Truce?  Hmmm, why?  The Power that Is has put us on opposing sides.  I think He kept me an Angel for the purpose sometimes," Izuriel said, her voice momentarily etched in anger.  She took a deep breath to calm herself.  "I have felt a difference in the air.  Something stirs in the winds.  You remember that feeling, don't you?  No, you wouldn't.  The wind no longer speaks to you."<br/><br/>She didn't mean to sound snide, it just came out that way.  He may resent her status, but she resented his freedoms.  "What could there bet to gain from something like a Truce?"<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>