"Probably not," Gabe admitted, "but He wouldn't blame you for it. Or anyone, really, except maybe Lucifer." If anything, Skul's fumbling just made the Archangel's grin widen. Gabe might not fully understand this need to hide the feelings both parties knew they had, but he knew what the fumble meant.

Skul was worried. He was worried because he cared, and not only because he didn't want to be smote. He was worried about Gabe for Gabe, not as an Archangel but as a friend. That knowledge put a fierce bubble of warmth in Gabriel's chest.

"What kind of mortal?" Gabe asked with impish innocence. "The magical kind or the non-magical kind? Some of the things I can do aren't strictly magic, so if I can't do magic but I can't do things which wouldn't raise some mortals' eyebrows then that still does leave a list of potential actions ..."