"I am," Gabriel said with such confidence it was impossible to deny. Then he grinned. "Even if we have to give 'em a good boot up the ass until they start lookin' properly." And he would. Ghastly first; the tailor's help would make things easier to start getting through to the others.

At that, though, the Archangel chuckled, releasing Fletcher's hands to turn back to the tree. "There's a lot of misconceptions going around," he said ruefully as he pried the scalpel loose. "I'd like to say they're all Lucifer's fault, but that would be lie. Some of it is just the way we have, on occasion, had to come across to you to get you to listen. Others are a simple matter of fear, or imagination, or a little too much awe."

He glanced up then, and his smile wasn't exactly shy, but it was soft. "I prefer it this way. We all do. Our Lord created us to be His companions and helpers, not His enforcers."