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property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
A Little Lower Than The Angels
By EponinesGhost
Some days her job was sheer hell. Most days it was at least purgatory. Some part of her believed it was her penance. Her rightful place. Her own private deal with the devil.
Facing the breadth and depth of what humanity was capable of on a regular basis, she had long since given up believing in miracles. She barely believed in anything. Her own abilities for the most part. The certainty of time passing. The inevitability of pain or numbness. Choose one.
It made good copy to pretend that she had faith in justice. It also helped her maintain some of her sanity. And if pretending was just this side of reality ... then at least she was within sight of it. Consoled herself with the thought that it was right there ... where she could reach out and grab hold of it in case of emergency.
The late hour reflected by the cold clock on the wall was nothing more than a reminder. No rest for the weary. Or was it the wicked? As if it mattered. In the stark surroundings of her office she felt as at home as she was ever going to feel anywhere else. Briefly, she was tempted to examine when she had become so resigned to her fate, so content with it's pattern. So addicted to it's contribution to her identity. At least she knew who she was.
Out of nowhere even that had been challenged.
She could hardly have known that after all of these years she was susceptible. Her barriers were solid, seemingly impenetrable. And worthless. Full of well-masked vulnerabilities. Like those overly-artsy affirmation posters showing a small green bud emerging from grey slabs of concrete, hope sprang eternal. Even for her. She could scarcely bring herself to acknowledge it. Maybe she was superstitious after all.
Could one person be another's salvation? Surely not. We make our own way, decide our own destiny. But ...
She stared across at the empty chair on the other side of the room. Kelly had changed her. Was still changing her. As surely as the steadiness of a stream smoothed stone, she was being affected, altered. If it wasn't salvation, it was damn close as far as she was concerned. Illumination at the end of a long, dark tunnel. All she had to do was turn toward it. Embrace it.
She'd given up searching. Accepted her losses. Dealt with her disappointments. Carved out an existence. And then, improbably, redemption found her. Opened up discarded possibilities. Offered the promise of something she'd no longer considered even remotely attainable.
Kelly had simply walked into her life without fanfare or expectation. Became a counterbalance to all of her doubts. Ethereal and calm in the face of her agitation. Warmth to the chill that pervaded her environment. Emotion when she was void of feeling. What more could she have asked for? What more could she possibly want or need? The beautiful blonde who shared her office was much more than she'd ever allowed or conceived. She was the answer to unspoken and unconscious prayer.
She was everything.
All I Need Is Everything
by Over the Rhine
words and music: Detweiler and Bergquist
recording: "Good Dog Bad Dog"
Slow down. Hold still.
It's not as if it's a matter of will.
Someone's circling. Someone's moving
a little lower than the angels.
And it's got nothing to do with me.
The wind blows through the trees,
but if I look for it, it won't come.
I tense up. My mind goes numb.
There's nothing harder than learning how to receive.
Calm down. Be still.
We've got plenty of time to kill.
No hand writing on the wall:
just the voice that's in us all.
And you're whispering to me,
time to get up off my hands and knees,
'cause if I beg for it, it won't come.
I find nothing but table crumbs.
My hands are empty. God I've been naive.
All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.
Slow down. Hold still.
It's not as if it's a matter of will.
Someone's circling. Someone's moving
a little lower than the angels.
This voice calling me to you:
it's just barely coming through.
Still, I clearly hear my name.
I've been fingering the flame
like tomorrow's martyr.
It gets harder to believe.
All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.
So from now till kingdom come,
taste the words on the tip of my tongue.
'Cause we can't run truth out of town,
only force it underground.
The roots grow deeper
in ways we can't conceive.
All I need is everything.
Inside, outside feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.
All I need is all I need.
The End