They are older than time and space, they exist outside of human perception. They have done this dance for their entire existence. Or so it would seem.
God made them to be messengers, warriors and workmen.
She is one more thing. God has tasked her with being his keeper, his maid of sorts.
Which she gets, she deserves it. She'd almost fallen for him. Not for Lucifer as he had so long ago but for him. She'd almost followed him, but God was greater.
With God she gets to create things. Minor things, no humans but still, creation is creation. Her favorite thing is communication, she gets to communicate thought between the big guy and the humans.
It's her very favorite thing even beyond him.
So she gets it, she understands the punishment, but that doesn't mean she isn't tired of it.
He destructs everything in his path. She cleans it up.
She has to stop in the middle of communicating a cure yet again, to tend to him. Bloody frustrating is what he is, he knows how hard it is to find suitable hosts for important messages.
As sweet as Joan was no one wants another one of those situations.
And so she descends onto the scene. Bellis is descending with her this time. Which means he's created some kind of carnage involving children. God tends to send Daisy, as she is now known, to tend to the children.
She does have a playful aura about her Jemma must admit.
They materialize onto a highway, there is a school bus plowed into a tree, it's smoking something awful. He already has all of the seemingly uninjured children corralled onto the roadside along with their bumbling, if not well meaning, bus driver Philip.
She sighs, he did this just to get her attention.
Daisy sends her a pitying look over her shoulder before going to wipe minds and check for residual demonic possession.
"Please tell me you did not possess one of those poor children? You know how much child possession unnerves the humans."
He shrugs, too distracted by drinking in the sight of her to give his answer the humor she thinks he might have been aiming for. "Nah, just the school bus, saw it on TV. I liked the novelty." He smirks at her.
"What?" She asked.
"Magic school buses or possessed ones. Same difference right?" he returns eyes twinkling with merriment." She doesn't get the joke he's trying to make, but he's been on earth for much longer stretches than she has.
She should probably be damned for how attracted she is to this form. Though if she squints she can see his true form. Old, discolored and almost decaying. He had once been one of the most beautiful beings she had ever beheld in all her eons.
It's part and parcel of being cast from heaven. Demons remain eternal but are continually twisted into grotesqueness by the darkness of sin and betrayal.
Angels can change form and designation as well, Jemma has never felt the need to do so. God created her as she is and that's good enough for her. And well…the demon across from her likes the original model.
Jemma is as much a part of the problem as Ward is. (He's just being facetious with his current name.)
"You have got to stop doing this!" she chastises as she does every third time. It's pointless… but she has to try.
"This is our dance baby, it's what we do. Lucifer sends me to earth for trying to overtake hell, and holier than all, sends you here to clean up my carnage." When did he get so close? He's inches from her, and why does he smell so good? Like clean man, When he's meant to smell like Sulphur and brimstone.
"I have things to do!" she whines.
"You miss me."
"You're an ass." She retorts.
"Guys get out of the road before someone hits you." Daisy calls out. "Forms are corporeal." She tacks on sounding bored.
Jemma steps to the side again and he follows, as he is wont to do.
Jemma is a rather smart angel but sometimes he makes her forget herself, and her place.
"Ward…" she starts again as they are safely tucked away and she finally remembers to shield them from prying eyes.
"It's not as if I've started a cult this time, I merely guided a small bus of children to rest very, very, gently against a tree."
She screams so loudly the birds shake out of their perches and rocks tumble from the mountainside they're next to.
He has the gall to laugh. If it wouldn't set her hand on fire she'd slap that smug smile from his face.
"You can make all this stop you know? Just see me of your own choosing and I'll stop causing chaos. I'll be at May's Diner. At the witching hour." He says lowly so Daisy doesn't hear.
"You know I-" but he's already gone.
She shouldn't be here it's against God's edict for her. Yet here she is.
She slides into the booth opposite him. "We're not talking understood? We're just being. You'll drink your burnt coffee and I'll drink my tea and we'll just…exist in the same space for the next hour."
"Baby, you've been English too long. It's a diner. No tea. Go with pie." He says waving down a waitress.
Right now she lets herself like him more than she loathes him.
AN: I own nothing. Bellis perrenis is the Latin form of Daisy for those confused by Daisy's angelic name. Story title borrowed from Don't Take The Money by Bleachers.