Dancing with a dark angel

Michael originally wore black angel wings on stage when he performed.   Editorial nixed that.   They also nixed the plaid pants.   Sigh...   Originally, on Michael's birthday, he did wear both, to please Jane...

         Over the top of Jane's head Michael looked to the darkening sky and could pick out a few twinkling stars.   He held his girl in his arms.   A plaid birthday cake sat nearby.   The world glittered below him.   What more could a vampire ask for?

         "Put your wings on," Jane murmured.

         "What?"
         "I want to see them on you.   I want...to dance with a dark angel."

***

         "Could you dance with me forever, Jane?"

         "Mm."   She snuggled against his chest, relaxed in his arms.   Everything between them had synched, their movements, their breaths, even their heartbeats.   "Sure, my angel."

         The wings were heavy but the padded brace over his shoulders was comfortable.   It was weird wearing them.   The wings stretched out four feet to either side of his shoulders, and were like eagle wings splayed in flight.   Heavy, they weighed at least ten pounds.   But Jane liked them.

         "Think about it," he whispered.   Eyes closed, he nuzzled into her freesia-scented hair.   The world had slipped away.   Yeah, he was flying.   "Forever.   With me.   Loving, living, singing, laughing.   Could you do it?"

         "I don't know what you're trying to say, Michael."   He didn't like it when she pulled her warmth away from him.   "Want some cake?"

         "I don't do cake, you know that.   I just...I could imagine it.   The two of us, for a long time.   Don't worry, I'm not asking for a commitment.   I just want you to know, I could be true to you."

         "Oh, Michael."   She stroked a long black feather that had bent forward from the left wing.   "Forever is a very long time."

         "Your mom and dad have done it."

         "Let's just dance, Michael."   She twisted her fingers into the ends of his hair and refit her body into his frame.   "Hold me."

         She fit him perfectly.   Not once in Michael's life had he ever felt as though he required protection, or the quiet strength of a woman's presence.   But Jane made him know that it was okay to have it.

         "Are you in some fantasy world?" he wondered.   "With the wings?"

         "I like them.   You're so sexy.   But you can take them off if they bother you."

         "No, I'm cool.   Just don't expect me to wear them to bed."

         "Mmm."   She sighed against his neck.   "Sex with an angel.   Now that sounds interesting."

         "I don't think angels can have sex.   They're like without sex organs, aren't they?"

         "Yes.   But the dark ones really know how to rock my world."

         She knew what to say to tip him over the edge.   This birthday was the best ever.

         "I could do it for a while," she suddenly offered.   "But don't ask me to commit to forever.   My forever may be entirely different from your forever."

         "You said you were immortal.   What makes us different?"

         "I have to renew that immortality.   You, well, you've a very long time to walk this earth."

         "But you will renew it, yes?"   He leaned back, seeking the gaze she kept elusive.   Could he invade her faery tale?    She was afraid, he could feel it.   Afraid to live forever?   "Jane, aren't I worth living for?"
         She drew away from him in a fluid, but decisive move.   Brushing back her hair, she glanced around and let out a heavy sigh.   The candles had begun to drip down their sides and streams of blue and white wax trickled across the floor.   One, two...

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