Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "I know someone who... I know of someone who can probably fill you in on some of the things you have forgotten. Maybe even restore your memory for real. But, the only place I know for sure we can get to him, is in Europe."

His eyes never left hers. "Then we go to Europe," he stated. There was no room for discussion."Where exactly?"

"Italy. Venezia..."

"Why haven't you told me this before?" he asked her after a few moments of tense silence.

"Because I haven't been sure. I still don't..." She sighed and shook her head. "You're not human," she whispered.

"I know. Nor are you." He studied her with dark, silent eyes.

"Ah. True."

"I love you. That, at least, is real." Michael's voice was calm and unhurried. Perhaps he sensed her fear.

"I know. I..."

She still dared not utter those words. What if it wasn't true? If it wasn't then the lie would burn her, and such hurt would cloud her mind. It wasn't as if she deserved the privilege of knowing such emotions. There was no time for that now. All she could do, was look him in the eyes and hope that he could see what she couldn't grasp. Wouldn't grasp. Dared not grasp.

"Talk to me, Lily. How did you come up with this?" he demanded into her silence.

"I found a marking on your body. It's not a real scar, but more like a rune. It tells your name to the one who sees it."

"Oh. You're telling me I have a dog tag etched into my skin? What does it say?"

"Michael."

"I knew that..." His voice was dry as the Atacama Desert. "It's even printed in my driver's license. Look." He reached for his wallet. The sarcasm in his voice augmented the disappointment in his eyes.

She bit her lip, then tried again. This time she sang it, in the true tongue whence the name originated. A language she hadn't sung in aeons.

"//Michael. Who is like God...//"

He drew his breath in a sudden hiss and stared at her. His hands trembled slightly while his entire body tensed. "What? Repeat that! Do it now!" he snapped urgently.

"//Michael. Who is like God.//"

Michael swallowed and grit his teeth in frustration. "I can almost taste it! I know I should understand those sounds, but they're beyond me!" he growled, frustration descending on him like a dark cloud. His jaw muscles worked furiously.

She felt like weeping, but held it back. "I'll take you to see someone who can help. Someone who knew you."

"Who?" he demanded. A thousand an one questions were warring in his eyes.

"Eli." "I don't know him." Flat voice. Stony face.

"You used to."

He sighed and said he had to believe her, even if this was all crazy talk. "There's something about the things you're saying. Something I should get, but don't. Did I know you too?"

"No. Not really. We were distantly acquainted, but that was too long ago to matter." She closed her eyes briefly, to hide the pain lurking within.

"Is Lily your real name?" he asked her after a while.

She shrugged. "Lily is my name. Liriel is my name too. I've had Liriel longer than I've had Lily. They're both real."

He nodded and sat up, his body-language revealing that he was ready to launch into a full-on interrogation. Lily raised her hands in a gesture of refusal. "Please, don't ask. Don't. When we get to Italy, your old friend will take care of it all okay? I can't..."

"Why?!" he asked incredulously. "What the hell do you mean "don't ask"? It's my goddamn life we're talking about here. You know stuff that's mine! My past, my missing memories, my identity, and you wanna hide it from me? Fuck that! I wanna know what you know, and I want to know NOW!" he shouted. Michael's temper flared up and he glared at her with stormcloud eyes.

She shook her head and held her hands up as if to protect herself. "No, Michael. Please try to understand..."

"There's nothing to understand!" he yelled. "Stop the damn whimpering and start talking!"

"Michael it's dangerous! You've amnesia, and if I tell you the wrong things at the wrong time, I could hurt you! Don't make me do that. Eli's an expert, he'll know how to do this right. I know he will!" she yelled back desperately. Yes, Eli would fix this. He had to, he was the ultimate expert and he could do it. Eli would take care of Michael. She knew it was so. She knew it.

He very nearly struck her. Michael hurtled out of his chair, lunging for her. But at the last moment, he redirected the blow aimed at her face, and instead grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her across the room. The impact with the wall nearly knocked her breathless, and it left her half-stunned with shock and surprise. He charged out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Though her daze, she heard him storm off. What had she been thinking?

They arranged the plane tickets a few days later. She earned the money for it the old-fashioned way; safer and more reliable than robbing a bank. She even made a little extra for their upkeep. He wasn't at all happy about her methods, but restrained himself from arguing. Things were tense enough between them already. Instead he lurked and loomed around wherever she went, hiding in the shadows and watching over her. "So you don't get any stupid ideas about vanishing on me," he told her.

She held her tongue rather than to launch into a proclamation on how she'd never leave him. Leave she could do any time she liked, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. But she wasn't going to leave now. They had to get to Italy first.

The rest of the time, he ignored her as much as he could. He only looked at her when he had to, and this hurt her almost as much as it pained her that he was hurting. His eyes had betrayed his emotions to her, that day she spilled the beans. They had been flashing with anger and betrayal, and she didn't expect those feeling to go away any time soon.

The only Holy place belonging to Creation that she knew for sure still existed, was in Venezia. So that's why they had to go to Italy. The Tether was an old painter's studio she had had some dealings with in the past. The power of the place had probably weakened since then, but hopefully the Seneschal was still around.

Bringing Michael to one of his own Tethers was not something she wanted to risk. A regular remnant could be quite volatile when distressed. How an Archangel's remnant would behave when freaked, was something she'd rather not contemplate. Besides, she was also afraid for herself. For her to seek out a Tether to War was simply suicide. Lily was absolutely certain of that.

The other thing she dreaded, was losing him. How she could even think about giving him up, failed to make sense to her. If she had just kept her mouth shut and not told him, they could have been together indefinitely. She wanted to be with him indefinitely, for crying out loud! He made her feel safe, he made her feel good and he made her restlessness go away. Even now, with this painful, tense silence between them, she still took comfort in his presence.

So here she was, sitting on a plane bound for Italy, where she would leave him in the care of his old friends and equals. Where she would have to slip away and never look back again. Because where he was going, she couldn't follow. His home had been her home too, a long, long time ago; long before her last home even came into existence. But she was through with both, and Earth was now her one and only home. To the end of her time. Lily was going to lose her lover and she really wondered why.

Michael was in the seat next to her, but his eyes were glued to the little window. She snuck a peek at him, and again the guilty pain needled her. A small sigh escaped from her lips as she looked away. Then, quite unexpectedly, he took her hand and squeezed it gently. She went absolutely still, not daring to move in case it would end the touch. Only her eyes moved, to check that her tactile sense wasn't playing tricks on her. What she saw was his big, rough hand covering her small and elegant one. Big, long, working man's fingers slid slowly in between her long, elegantly manicured artist's fingers. It surprised her how such a small, humble gesture made her heart leap and sing. Michael then lifted her hand, his fingers entwined with hers, and pressed his lips to it. His eyes were closed, but she could see that the corner of his mouth were curled in a tiny shadow of a smile.

Lily smiled, enjoying the kiss while pushing all the dark and scary thoughts back from her mind, lest they overcome her. When he was through kissing her hand, he lowered it and went on caressing it with his own two. He finally looked at her -- really looked. "This Eli; he will give me my memories back?" he asked her quietly. She looked at him wide-eyed and nodded. "He will. I promise you, he will."

"I trust you," he said and reached out to stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry I had a go at you. Let's stop this silence thing. I have too much silence in my life already." And how true it was, she thought. Even if he couldn't possibly realize the full extent of that truth.

"I love you, Lily. Liriel. Whoever you are."

"Thank you."

The drifting couple arrived in Venezia after some twenty hours of travelling. Even for beings like them it wasn't very comfortable, and they were happy to be able to stretch their legs again and walk. Soon, all too soon, she would lose him forever, so she was hell-bent on enjoying her last precious hours with him to the fullest. He had no idea she'd be leaving, and she could not bring herself to tell him. She clung to the hope that he'd understand once he became himself again. That when he was an Archangel again, she wouldn't matter to him any more. Then she could slip away into the world, hoarding her memories of the love they'd...

Oh.

...shared.

Had it really come to this, then? Did she really love him? No other answer seemed logical any more, because she definitely wasn't acting any kind of sensible. For no other reason than that there might be a tiniest chance to restore Michael to his former glory, she was ready to give him up. Lily was ready to let him go, even if the mere thought was tearing her heart up.

Even if it could mean meeting her death at those very hands that knew her so well.

Just because it felt like the right thing to do.

They spent the night in a small, lovely hotel that cost more than they really could afford. It was well worth it though, as it would be their last night together. Even if he didn't know that. Their lovemaking was as intense at is had been those first desperate nights after they had met. He responded to her urgency by taking her so hard it hurt, accidentally bruising her arm when he gripped it too tightly. She left red welts on his back with her fingernails. So easy to let the bodies do the talking, she thought for the umpteenth time. She couldn't, wouldn't let him go; so they went at it again and again. She inhaled the smell of him, drank the taste of him and enveloped the hardness of him as much as she could. Imprinting all the data from her senses into her mind, so she'd never forget. Even the soreness his stubble left around her mouth and on her neck was precious to her. If she survived this trip, she would carry with her the memories of him for the rest of her life. These were memories actually worth remembering.

When morning came, they showered, got dressed and headed out. She made sure that she had all she needed in her purse; and she also risked a small trick, enabling her to understand and speak the local lingo. Such powers were available to celestial beings, if they but took the time to learn them. However, there was a danger to actually using these powers; they created a small disturbance in the world that other celestials might be able to sense. She preferred to avoid them altogether for this reason. Lily didn't want to meet others of her kind ever again, if she could help it. The irony of the current situation was not lost on her.

They meandered along narrow Venetian streets and across numerous bridges. They passed three markets on their way, and bought a bag of big, ripe peaches from a vendor. She hardly even noticed the surrounding city, even though it was well worth noticing. Venezia had become like an old courtesan, all faded and somewhat decayed at first glance, but at second and third glance you started seeing the beauty underneath and feel her charms at work. Veiled, subtle and powerful. Even the throngs of tourists couldn't take that away.

"I don't want to go into that place," Michael suddenly said.

"What? Why not?"

"You said you would see an assistant to this Eli guy first, right? And then this flunky will get him?"

She nodded.

"I'll wait here in this café until you have the right guy. I need to prepare," he said and set his jaw to let her know that this was non-negotiable. His eyes kept, as usual, darting around and noticing every single detail of the area. Only now they weren't hiding the inner intensity like they normally did, and she could tell he was tense.

Ready to fight. Michael didn't do flight.

There was nothing she could say or do to make him change his mind, so she didn't bother trying. She stretched up on the tips of her toes and kissed him instead. For the last time feeling his strong body against hers, his rock-hard muscles tense beneath her hands. "I love you Michael," she said and meant it. Then she paused to marvel quietly at the calm that statement brought her. So it was true then. Who'd have thought it?

He smiled and kissed her back. "Say again?"

"I love you, Michael."

"I thought you'd never say it. Now, go find the doc. I'll be right here..."

She smiled back, a sad little smile, and then she turned and strode toward the the old studio house. It was a small and exclusive art school, she learned as she studied the plaque on the door. Drawing a breath to steady herself (What the nine hells was she DOING?! She'd get herself killed!), she rang the bell. A servant opened the door and wanted to know if she had an appointment. Answering with a curt shake of her head, she then asked to see the master of this place. "It is a matter of some personal urgency," she informed the plump, Albanian woman.

The servant woman peered at her with sharp, black eyes, then nodded and ushered her inside. Quickly and efficiently she bustled though the front end of the house and into the back study. "Please wait here, madam. I will fetch the master. What name shall I tell him?"

"Lily Pierrot."