THE SOUND OF ANGEL'S WINGS
Rory V. Pascual

CHAPTER TWO:

        Methos was seated at the head of their small dining table, his son and the angel on either side of him. Although he hasn't had a good night's sleep in the days following Duncan's death, he seemed strangely refreshed. The ancient wondered if it had something to do with that pleasurable feeding the other day. After he and Sean had drunk their fill, they had practically slept the whole day. Up to now, he could still taste the angel's milk on his tongue. Whatever the reason, Methos found himself able to break out temporarily from his stupor of grief and prepare a simple breakfast of honeybuns, oatmeal, strawberries and fresh goat's milk. As a contingency, he had also set out a box of frosted cornflakes. 

       "Well?" he asked with a weak, yet inviting, smile, gesturing to the food. "Let's dig in, shall we?" Both father and son reached for the bread basket when they paused. Radhael's eyes were closed, hands clasped together in prayer. Methos and Sean slowly eased back into their seats, seeing that the angel's halo was glowing with a golden aura and growing steadily brighter. Suddenly, a beam of light shone down from the ceiling and upon their simple meal, tiny winking lights raining down upon it. A glorious smile formed on Radha's face. As he made the Sign of the Cross, the light faded away. 

       To the astonishment of Methos and Sean, Radhael quickly snatched a honeybun from the bread basket and took a big bite out of it. Laying the bun on the tabletop, he grabbed his glass of milk in both hands, gulping it down noisily. With a shake of his head, he licked the white mustache from his upper lip and let out a refreshed "AAAAH!" Noticing the shocked expressions on the faces of father and son, Radha grabbed two buns and plunked one each right in the middle of Methos' and Sean's bowl of oatmeal. Giggling, he then took the box of cornflakes and started pouring its contents into Sean's bowl. Sean halted the downpour with his hand. "Uh...thank you. That's enough." He grimaced at the sight of the small mountain of cornflakes in the middle of his oatmeal. 

       "Radha, thank you, but I'm not really a cornflakes kind of guy," Methos hastily remarked as the angel dumped the cereal into his bowl. Carefully putting a strawberry on top of the cornflake mountains, Radhael clapped his hands in glee, pleased by his creations. Having served Methos and Sean, the angel poured the remainder of the cereal -  still about three fourths of the carton -- in his oatmeal. He was about to dump all the strawberries in his bowl as well, when his halo suddenly fell forward, the ring hitting the bridge of his nose. Rubbing his nose, Radha pulled the halo back, fixing it at the back of his head. But no matter how hard he tried, the halo kept falling. In the end, the ring of gold tightened around his forehead like a head band. Radhael's lower lip jutted out into a pout as he settled back into his seat, chastened by an unseen presence. "Is something wrong, Radha?" queried Sean in concern. 

       The angel sniffled, gazing longingly at his food. 

       Realizing what just happened, the child burst into giggles. "I think I know why. It's because you're so greedy and that's bad. Here, let me put some of the cereal back inside the box." 

       But Radhael gripped his bowl protectively with his arms. He even curled his wings forward. 

       "Now, now, Radhael," Sean chided, reaching for the bowl once more, "it's not nice to be greedy. You're an angel, remember, and angels always have to be good." 

       Radha, however, shook his head stubbornly. 

       At that point, Methos raised both hands to the angel and spoke, "Angel? Come on! Give me the bowl. You don't want Him to be angry now, do you?" 

       The angel hesitated for a moment. With a sad little sniffle, Radha pushed his bowl into the Old Man's hands. Methos replaced the cornflakes in the box, leaving more in the oatmeal for Radha. The angel beamed when the ancient dropped five juicy strawberries into his breakfast. However, when Methos proceeded to return some of the cornflakes from his and Sean's bowls, Radha whimpered, shaking his head. 

       "It's all right, Papa," Sean reassured him. "I think Radha wants us to eat well." 

       "Are you sure you can finish this, son? It's quite a lot." 

       "I can manage," the child piped in, pulling his bowl back. "If I can't finish it, I'll share with Radha." 

       Hearing this, the angel eagerly nodded. At this enthusiastic gesture, however, Radhael's halo dropped to his neck. 

       Methos sighed. "I'll take that as a no." Taking his son's breakfast, he put back the cornflakes that haven't been dunked into the oatmeal, doing the same to the cereal in his own bowl. Seeing the sorrow in Radha's pretty violet eyes, the ancient suggested, "If any of you want a second serving, just ask." 

       Smiling, the angel lifted his still full bowl to the Old Man. 

       Pointing to its contents, Methos remarked, "You have to finish all of that first, Radha." 

       Radhael wrinkled his nose in displeasure. As father and son looked on in shock, the angel raised the bowl to his lips. 

       "Whoa there!" cried Methos, taking the bowl out of Radha's hands. "That's not how you eat!" 

       "Here, Radha!" said Sean, as he picked up his spoon. "I'll show you." 

       There was a grimace on the angel's face as he tried to follow the child's actions, the handle of his spoon gripped tightly in a fist. When his attempt to shovel out a spoonful of cereal resulted in his cornflake mountain's collapse, Radha let out a frustrated grunt, dropped his spoon on the floor and raised his bowl to his lips again. 

       Suddenly, that shaft of light shone down upon the angel once more. To Radhael's dismay, the halo that was around his neck fell to the floor with a jingle. Gazing up into the light, his eyes assumed a chastened look and tears started to well up. He shook his head violently, messing up his lovely golden brown hair. Before Methos and Sean realized what was happening, the angel burst into tears, his whole body hitching with his silent sobs. 

       Father and son immediately got out of their seats and went to Radhael's side. 

       Glaring up into that beam of light, Sean declared furiously, "Why did you make him cry like this? He just wants to eat Earth food!" 

       Methos started, seeing his little boy flip the bird to the invisible deity. Swiftly pushing Sean's flapping middle finger down, the ancient stammered, "Forgive him , my Lord, please. I know you're upset about Radha, but let me handle this. I assure You things will be all right." 

       At this reassurance, the beam of light faded away. Patiently, Methos wiped away Radhael's golden tears, recalling how he had given this small comfort to the child Duncan had become years back. For a moment, he felt a dull ache in his heart. However, when he noticed Radha's distressed violet eyes focused on him, the Old Man quickly shook the thought away. Sean held his father's hand, smiling in understanding. 

       Methos took a spoonful of oatmeal and cornflakes from the angel's bowl. "All right, Radha. Open wide." 

       Sniffling, Radhael quickly opened his mouth and the ancient carefully placed the spoon inside. As he withdrew the utensil, the angel munched and chewed on his food, a sweet little grin on his face. Turning to Sean, he opened his mouth to the child. Laughing, Sean offered him a spoonful of cereal as well. 

       Alternately, father and son fed their strange guest. Soon, however, having observed the way Methos and Sean held their spoons, Radha declined their offer and went about digging into his own breakfast. 

       The meal over, Sean dispatched Radhael to his room, where the angel cuddled and played with Teddy, while singing a lilting melody. He then rejoined his father in the kitchen, who was washing the dishes. "Papa," Sean began in hesitation, "do you think Radhael's a real angel?" 

       The ancient didn't answer at first, distracted as he was by the angel's beautiful voice. Though the words were alien to him, Methos recognized the song as "Les Cloches du Hameau." 

       Then, he answered, "To be honest, I don't know what to think. But, yes, I think he's an angel. Judging from his lovely voice, I'd say he's a seraph. All seraphim are known for their beautiful singing voices. They're the ones who are closest to the throne of God, singing endless praises to him." 

       "I saw a lot of strange things inside his mind while he let me feed on him - beautiful, wondrous things." 

       "Like more angels, rainbow-colored clouds, glass spires?" 

       "Yes." Sean remarked, "Radha's so good...so pure. Is that what it's like to be an innocent, Papa? To be a child?" 

       "It's been a very, very long time since I was a child that I really don't remember." A fond smile formed on Methos' lips at the memory of his own Highland angel. "But, yes, I believe that's what it's like to be a child." 

       "He seems so happy. Why was I born different? I don't understand." 

       "I wish I could give you the answer to that, my son." 

       For a moment, Sean was silent. "You remember Mama, don't you? Radha...he looks so much like my Mama." 

       "In more ways than one. You know I told you your mother had that...accident...and he reverted to the mind and ways of a child." "Mama was like Radhael!" 

       Methos nodded. "Exactly like Radhael." 

       "What if Radha IS my Mama? He just couldn't remember." 

       "But his memories are different. You saw what was inside his mind. Radha is not your mother." 

       "But Papa..." Sean gazed up into his father's wise green gold eyes. "I can pretend, can't I? I can dream. I can hope." 

       Suddenly, their discussion was interrupted by a delighted squeal. As father and son turned their heads in the direction of that happy cry, Radhael whizzed by. Sitting on his shoulders was good ole Teddy. Between his tousled golden head and the bear's belly was Radha's halo. It seemed as if Teddy was holding up that ring of gold for the angel. Before they realized what was happening, Radhael flung the door open, his robe catching on the knob, and ran into the snow as naked as a newborn babe. 

       "SHIT!" exclaimed Sean as he picked up the fallen robe. 

       "Sean?" warned Methos. "Your language!" 

       The child shrugged, grinning. "Sorry, Papa." Running outside, Sean yelled, "Come back here, you winged pervert! You'll get arrested for indecent exposure!" 

       Methos stood at the doorway, watching his little boy chasing after the giggling bare-assed seraph. At first, Sean was roaring in frustration as Radhael evaded his attempts to wrap the robe around him. But soon, Sean was laughing, exhilarated by the chase, oblivious to the fact that Radha didn't seem at all affected by the cold. 

       Memories of a not so distant past returned to him - Joe's house, a time when he was about to give his Highland angel a bath. Just like Radha, Duncan had ran out of the bathroom and into the city streets naked, laughing in pure joy, not a single care in the world. Methos had chased the Scot, bathrobe in hand. Did he not wrap the robe around Duncan and embraced him, the same way Sean was holding on to Radha? 

       *"I can pretend, can't I?"* Sean had asked him earlier. *"I can dream. I can hope."* 

       In his mind, Methos recalled how Duncan had walked through the doorway of the loft that one last time - his chocolate brown eyes were liquid with tears for the pain he had caused his only child. He had looked so lost. The Old Man couldn't remember if he had given the Highlander a reassurance - a sentence, a soothing smile or a simple look that things will be all right. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe if he had reassured the Scot, Duncan would still be alive today. *"I can hope,"* Sean had told him. 

       Methos shook his head. "Better not hope, Sean. They always leave in the end. Like Alexa. Like your mother, and I thought we would live together...forever. Don't hope, Sean. In the end, they always close the door behind them and never come back. I don't know what god brought Radhael to us. But he won't stay. He doesn't belong with us. Don't hope. In the end, it will only break your heart." 

       As the ancient went back inside the cabin, he did not notice that, outside, violet eyes were observing him. 

       *Methos.* The Immortal's name evoked a swirling maelstrom of color inside the angel's mind. For that is what Methos was - a man of many names, many lives. Five millennia of laughter and pain -- the pain, sadly, overwhelming the happiness. 

       Sean flung his little arms around Radhael's neck. Sweeping the child into his embrace, Radha kissed Sean lovingly on the brow. 

       Glancing once more at the cabin, the angel caught a glimpse of the ancient's shadow through the window. 

       Methos. Radhael blew an angel's kiss - a tiny pink heart that only he could see - into the cabin. Always hope. Never despair.

---

       Methos was rummaging through the dresser, looking for clothes that the angel could wear. What the ancient found was Duncan's favorite dark blue shirt. Strangely enough, the fabric wafted with the scent of the Highlander's skin. He pressed the shirt to his face and closed his eyes. At that contact, memories of the Scot flooded into his mind. Methos had loved to see Duncan wearing the shirt -- so dashing he had looked in it. And when he smiled... The ancient took a deep breath to calm his nerves, but that wouldn't stop the tears that were welling up in his eyes. 

       Suddenly, however, Methos had that disturbing feeling that someone was watching him. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped in surprise, seeing Radhael and Teddy peering at him, their heads the only things visible above the drawer. 

       "Good God, Radha!" the ancient exclaimed, rubbing his pounding chest. "You startled me! I thought you were playing with Sean!" 

       The seraph pouted and made typing gestures with his hands. 

       *So,* Methos thought, *Sean is at his computer again.* "Angel, why don't you go over to Sean and convince him to play with you? He's been spending far too much time in front of that computer. Meanwhile, I'm looking for clothes for you to wear." Showing him the blue shirt, he asked, "What do you think?" 

       Radha looked at the shirt critically and crinkled his nose, shaking his head. He then happily twirled on his toe, letting his robes fly. 

       "Yes, I know how much you like your clothes, but they're not meant for cold weather. Besides, you're bound to wear them out sooner or later." 

       But a small voice inside his head reminded Methos that angel's robes were very durable. 

       Shaking that strange thought away, Methos urged him, "Go on, Angel. Play with Sean." 

       Mumbling to himself, obviously saying that it was hopeless, Radhael nevertheless did as he was told. 

       The ancient shook his head. The seraph reminded him so much of Duncan when he had regressed to the mind of a child. 

       *"I can pretend, can't I?"* Sean had asked him days back. 

       Oh, how Methos wanted to drown himself in this wonderful illusion! But he knew he cannot allow himself to give in. That path led to pain. And he couldn't take much more of it. ~~~~~ 

       "RADHA!" Sean complained. 

       The child was engrossed with the live videos of animal mating rituals on the National Geographic website, when Radhael chose that most inopportune moment to try to get his attention by waving Teddy playfully before his eyes, blocking the screen. 

       Radha grimaced, pulling the bear back, hugging Teddy to his chest. 

       Noticing the disappointment on the angel's face, Sean just didn't have the heart to send him away. Instead, he invited, "Come here beside me, Radha. I want to show you something." 

       The seraph hastened to the little boy's side as Sean clicked the mouse, opening the first video. 

       "This is how fish have sex." 

       Radha's brow creased in a frown, wondering what exactly he was watching. 

       "Next, this is how frogs have sex." 

       The angel's pretty violet eyes widened, seeing the male bullfrog clamber on top of the female. 

       "Here, you have horses making love." 

       The sight caused Radhael's jaw to drop. 

       "Now, look how elephants do it." 

       At once, the seraph covered his open mouth with both hands. 

       "Next, you have gorillas making out." 

       Radha immediately covered his eyes, not wanting to see the two apes humping away. He even turned Teddy around to face his belly. 

       "Last but not least, watch how humans do the wild thing. Go get her, Baldy!" 

       Making an opening between his fingers, the angel gasped in shock and outrage at the sight of the naked bald man plunging his hard cock in and out of the blonde bombshell, while his large hands mashed her voluptuous breasts. 

        Staring at the ceiling, Radha started to whistle as he inched close to the wall. Reaching with the tip of his wing, he yanked the plug off the socket. Before the child could give him a scolding, the angel and Teddy made a quick getaway.  ~~~~~ 

        "PAPA!" Methos heard Sean cry out, just as Radha and the bear whizzed past him and headed out the door. 

        Then, his angry son himself appeared. "Radha unplugged my computer!" 

        "It's about time, if you ask me," the Old Man remarked. "Let me guess. You were looking at porn again." 

        Sean fell silent. The ancient pulled the little boy into his lap. "Son, I know you have a mature mind and I know how much...earthly...matters interest you. But you are still a child. Childhood...it's a very special time in your life -- when you can dream wondrous things, revel in the beauty of nature, imagine fantasy worlds and far off places." Methos gave him a knowing smile. "A time when you can play with other children and angels." 

        Casting his eyes down, Sean whispered, "Before Mama died, he begged me to play with him. He even bought me some PlayDoh. I wish I had played with him that day." Hugging his father, he sobbed, "Oh, Papa! I miss Mama so much!" 

        Methos embraced him tightly, kissing his cheek. "I know, son. I miss him too." 

        Suddenly, the door banged open and father and son found themselves being sprinkled with icy water. 

        "Radha, stop it!" cried Methos, giggling, shielding his face and Sean from the spray of droplets. 

        But the angel would not stop his deluge. 

        Sean was furious. Turning to the angel, he declared, "If you don't stop, Radhael, I'm gonna whup your ass!" 

        The child, however, found himself face-to-face with the biggest and ugliest catfish he had ever seen. 

        The ancient recognized the fish immediately as the terror of Duncan's brief childhood, Big Bertha. Methos didn't know whether he should laugh or not, for affixed on top of the catfish's head was the angel's halo. 

        Then, Big Bertha's whiskers reached out and tickled Sean's cheeks. Terrified, just like his lover years back, his little boy flung his arms around Methos' neck and bawled, "PAPA! PAPA! IT'S THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON! WAAAAAAAAAH!" 

        Radhael, who was carrying the catfish in his arms, scratched his head in bewilderment. The ancient found it comical the way the angel and Big Bertha looked at each other in confusion and guilt. 

        "Angel, you and Big Bertha are scaring Sean!" Methos exclaimed. "In heaven's name, how were you able to catch her? Listen, Radha. Bertha is a fish. She can't survive long without water. Go on and take her back to the lake." 

        The seraph gazed at father and son in sincere apology. Hugging Bertha lovingly, he trudged outside the cabin with the catfish. 

        Prying his son loose, the Old Man declared, "It's all right, Sean. Bertha's gone." 

        "What the hell was that?" Sean demanded, as his father wiped away his tears. "That was the ugliest thing I ever saw in my life!" 

        "That was Big Bertha and she's one huge catfish. She's a legend in these parts, kinda like the Loch Ness monster. Bertha always enjoyed scaring the living daylight out of your mother. Do you know that there was a time when Duncan actually considered taking her head? He believed Bertha was Immortal." 

        "But...but that's stupid! A catfish can't be Immortal!" 

        "Stupid, you say?" Methos remarked. Grinning, he said, "I'd call that being a child with an overactive imagination." 

        Outside, there was a joyful "WHEEEEEEE!" followed by laughter. Father and son went towards the window, just in time to see Radha, with Teddy on his back, sliding down the snowy slope on his belly with Bertha at his side. It looked like the angel and the catfish were racing against each other, with the lake below as their finish line. 

        "They're having so much fun," Sean commented with a trace of envy. 

        "Why don't you join them?" the ancient suggested. "Believe me, son! You won't regret it. It's about time you know how it feels to be a real child. I'm sure your mother would agree with me." 

        Smiling, Sean nodded. Grabbing his jacket, he dashed after Radha and Bertha, shouting, "Hey! Wait for me, you two!" 

        Methos sighed, watching his son plop down on the snow and belly slide down the hill. For the first time in his four years, Sean, like any normal little boy or girl, was playing. 

        Oh, Duncan!  the ancient thought. Our son's playing! How I wish you were here to see this!

---

       Methos had fallen asleep on the rocking chair, the shirt he was sewing lying on his lap. The tracks of his tears remained as powdery salt on his cheeks. 

       Having generously nursed Sean Richard until he was sound asleep, Radhael emerged from the master bedroom to check on his other, much older, ward. 

       Quietly, he crept up behind Methos, padding softly around the rocking chair. Slowly, he got down on his knees before the ancient and peered up into that handsome, yet troubled, face. A soft whimper was elicited from the Old Man's lips and a dark frown creased his brow. Curiosity getting the better of him, Radhael carefully raised his finger, the tip barely touching Methos' brow, and closed his eyes to look inside the Immortal's mind. 

       What he saw was a confusing mix of images, mostly of a young man with dark brown hair who looked exactly like him. The man -- *Duncan?* -- lay on a dizzying, shifting stream of ghostly beds, as if the beds were changing one after another in time and space. However, the man himself, lost in the throes of love, passion and desire, remained constant. Duncan was naked, his legs splayed to accomodate the unseen man above him, golden hands clasped with the pale ones of his lover. 

       Then, to his surprise, Radhael found himself looking up through Duncan's eyes, gasping in pain as his body was entered. Through tear- filled eyes, he gazed up to find Methos above him, smiling reassuringly. But the Immortal looked different -- his cropped, militarian hair tousled by the helmet he had removed. Glancing to the side, Radha saw the Immortal's discarded white tunic, his armor and his sandals. A short distance off lay Methos' drum, that had earlier heralded the arrival of kings to a lowly stable. That's were they where -- in the field near the stable, not too far from where the Child lay. 

       A sharp thrust and Radha closed his eyes once more, whimpering in pain. He then felt a gentle hand on his cheek and a soft voice speaking in song -- the language of angels -- promising eternal happiness and love. Daring to look up, Radhael beheld the Immortal's smiling face, peering down at him. This time, however, Methos was clad in the raiments of an archangel at war. The feathers of his snow- white wings fluttered in the breeze. 

       But as they made love, darkness fell upon them. There was a flurry of feathers, screams and blood. So much blood that rained from the sky itself. Overhead, lightning snaked through the heavens. 

       Suddenly, there was agony as they were torn apart by many strong hands. Radhael was crying, reaching out to the ancient. To his horror, Methos fell through a dark chasm, plummeting to the world below, along with many others of their kind who sought to rebel against the might of God. 

       *"No! Not him!"* the angel begged his Lord. *"He does not belong with them!"* 

       Radha had screamed his lover's name. It was not Methos. His name was... 

       The angel's eyelids fluttered open, his head shaking in bewilderment. What was it he saw inside the Immortal's mind? Those images -- so confusing, so disturbing, yet so familiar. Radhael tried to search his own mind for a similar memory, but he hit an impenetrable wall of granite. 

       Carefully, Radha removed his halo. If Methos were like him, the halo would cling to his head -- *wouldn't it?* the angel thought.  Leaning forward, he tried to affix the golden ring to the back of Methos' head. So close was he to the ancient that he could feel Methos' steady breathing upon his face. Something inside his heart urged him to move closer. As his eyes closed, Radhael pressed his full lips to Methos'. 

       At that contact of their lips, the Old Man started awake. Caught by surprise, Radha released his hold on his halo. As he tried to grab it, the rocking chair tilted backward at their combined weight, sending Immortal and angel toppling to the floor. 

       "WHAT THE..." stammered Methos as the flustered seraph clambered off him. "RADHA!" he exclaimed, a lot sharper than he had intended. 

       Like a bad little boy who was caught raiding the cookie jar, Radhael burst into guilt-ridden tears, wringing his knuckles over his eyes. 

       Hearing the noise, a drowsy Sean trudged into the living room, yawning. "What's going on?" 

       Methos clamped a hand over the angel's mouth, stifling his cries. "It's all right, son. The rocking chair just fell over. You can go back to sleep now." 

       Yawning again, Sean scratched his little butt. With a drowsy, "Okay," he then toddled back to bed. 

       Removing his hand, Methos gave the sobbing seraph a chiding look. "Radha, what were you doing?" 

       Twiddling his fingers guiltily on his lap, the angel shook his head. 

       "Nothing, huh? Come now, Angel. Better come clean." 

       Radhael's violet eyes fell upon the halo lying at their feet. Taking it, he tried pressing the ring of gold to the back of Methos' head again, but the halo dropped to the floor with a loud jangle. Radha couldn't understand why, but the sight of that fallen halo caused great dismay to rise inside his heart. 

       Methos noticed the stricken expression on the angel's face. Picking up the golden ring, he remarked with a nonchalant shrug, "Sorry, Radhael, but I'm afraid I'm not really angel material." 

       When the Old Man attempted to put the halo back on Radha, to Methos' chagrin, the halo fell forward, circling the angel's brow like a ringlet. At once, Radhael blanched. 

       "Now, I know you've been up to something!" Methos cocked an eyebrow up at the angel, who wanted desperately to sink into a hole in the floor. "Radha? Have you been naughty again?" 

       The way the angel pouted, his lush lower lip could've reached the glorious mountains in Calgary. 

       "Oh, Angel! You know I don't want you to get into trouble with Him. Now, be honest! What did you do?" 

       Radhael batted his long eyelashes at the ancient, with his expressive violet eyes begging him not to ask. 

       "Angel?" Methos insisted. "What did you do?" 

       The Immortal's eyes widened in surprise when the angel embraced him tightly and kissed him on the lips. Before Methos could even react, Radha dashed off in a flurry of feathers. 

       Methos sat on the floor in shock. Unconsciously, his right hand went up to his mouth, feeling a warm tingle on his lips. That sweet kiss...it felt so much like one of Duncan's tender caresses. 

       Getting to his feet, the Old Man went after the angel, halo in his hand. Opening the door to Sean's bedroom, he saw Teddy's head peeking out from the covers. Right beneath the bear's chin was an enormous lump. 

       "Good evening, Teddy!" the ancient greeted cheerfully, walking towards the bed. "Why aren't you asleep? Oh, I see. Someone woke you up and he's hiding in here. I wonder where could he be?" 

       Bending over the lump, Methos poked his fingers into the covers, tickling the seraph who was hiding underneath. Radhael's laughter sounded like muffled sleigh bells. Yanking the covers down, the ancient pressed his hands down to tickle the angel even more. What his hands cupped, however, were the delectable, tight mounds of Radha's ass. 

       As Radhael squealed in surprise, Methos quickly withdrew, his face turning crimson in embarrassment. There was a reproachful glare in the angel's eyes as he rubbed his buttocks. Playfully, Methos swatted Radha's rump with the small bolster pillow. "All right, Angel! Time for bed!" 

       Radhael hastened to obey, plopping down in the right position -- head on the pillow, beside Teddy. The ancient pulled the sheets up and tucked it under their chins. As Methos sat down on the bed, for a moment, they stared into each other's eyes, hesitation and fear particularly reflected in the seraph's violet orbs. 

       Tapping the tip of Radhael's nose, Methos remarked, grinning, "You are one very naughty angel, you know that, Radha?" 

       At that comment, a timid smile formed on the angel's lips. 

       There was such a sad, wistful expression on the ancient's eyes as he said, "But please don't do that again. I don't want you to get into trouble because of me." 

       At once, Radhael's lips pursed into a pout. 

       "It's for your own good," said Methos firmly. Holding up the halo, the Old Man gently lifted Radha's head and laid the ring on the soft pillow. "Here. You might lose your symbol of divinity and mischief detector." 

       Raising his chin, Radhael bestowed a sweet peck on the ancient's mouth. 

       There was warm fondness and a hint of mild exasperation on the Immortal's face, as well as deep sorrow. Forcing a weak smile, he repeated, "Radhael, you are a very naughty angel, indeed." Standing, he whispered, "Good night." 

       As the ancient walked towards the door, Radha couldn't resist sending Methos one of his sweet angel kisses. He watched as the pink heart brushed against the Immortal's nape. At that contact, Methos felt a warm breeze and a tingle at the back of his neck. 

       Frowning, Methos glanced back at the angel, who simply giggled mischievously. 

       "Good night, Radhael," the ancient said gently. 

       As Methos closed the door, a name suddenly came to the seraph's mind. Drifting off into peaceful slumber with Teddy in his arms, Radha smile and whispered in the tongue of angel's, Good night....Methriel. 

Continued in Chapter 3...click next below