rating: PG
pairing: Ryan/Clay
disclaimer: Still don't own them. River in Judea lyrics by Linda Marcus, music by Jack Feldman, arranged by John Leavitt.
distribution: Come on, you should know this by now. Usual haunts; others, ask.
summary: "It's a singing, ringing river that my soul cries out to know."
notes: Again, highly metaphysical, spiritual, and romantic. sequel to Still. There's an mp3 of RiJ on my website, free for the taking. It's in the music section and is sung by the Guthrie High School Women's Concert Choir. Yes, I'm in there.

dedication: Whoo... *deep breath* Tazzy, Meggie, Javory, Knitting Girl, GrownUpNerd, GrammarAngel, Jenn, Kerry, Amanda, Jessica, MyDemand, It'sRainingClay... Guh, did I leave anyone out? Raise your hand. Oh, and to my mother, because she's the best. :-)

more notes: These two stories - Still and River in Judea - have been an incredibly rewarding experience. They have allowed me to bring my very spiritual nature up from the depths and shine them into the world. I am a poet by art, and these two pieces are my soul, lain bare for everyone to see. My mother tells me that I have a gift, one that needs to be shared with the world. Well, I'm not quite to the world yet, but I think I have a good start.

When he was a little boy, Clay often wondered why he had the Marks. The little bruises that would form long, sculpted lines across his back and then disappear in a few days. As he got older, he understood that they were not bruises, but gifts from God. And he loved God, respected Her, walked by Her side, and sought Her guidance. As an Angel, he had a link to the Almighty that Humans did not. He felt bad about that, really. No one should be deprived of Her.

He could feel her in everything. Even in the bedroom he was currently resting in. Ryan curled into his side, an arm slung over his midsection, and Clay could feel Her love covering them like a warm, reassuring blanket, an image that conjured up the feeling of safety he always got when his mother covered him with the quilt his grandmother had made.

It was such a peaceful night. The moon was full, and without any cloud cover, it was as bright as any streetlamp. Clay disentangled himself from Ryan's body, smiling slightly at the sleepy sigh that escaped his beloved's lips. He walked to the large window and gazed out at the shining orb in the sky. Mercy, was it glorious! He gripped the window sill and unfurled his wings. It got easier every time, especially since he'd bonded with his mate.

It was not common knowledge that Angels in Human form bonded for the span of their Earthly time. Upon hearing this, Ryan's eyes had shimmered slightly and said it didn't matter to him, because he couldn't see anything else in his future but his Angel. A sentiment that left Clay feeling wonderfully giddy.

With his eyes closed, he stood at the window, soaking up the moonlight, feeling every miniscule movement of air through his feathers. He would have loved to just open the window and soar into the night sky and not stop until he reached the outer edges of the atmosphere. But he couldn't leave Ryan. Couldn't leave his lover - his *husband* - to worry about him. Someday, he'd take Ryan to air. The two of them riding the wind, sharing lazy kisses, laughing at the shapes the clouds make in their constant ennui.

His husband... Oh, how he loved Ryan! Loved him with the passions of a thousand poets, the devotion of ten-thousand priests, the desire of a Human man, and the soul of an Angel. Nothing mattered more than his husband's happiness, and Ryan was full to bursting with happiness. Clay rejoiced in Ryan's joy and revelled in his love. He was Home. Ryan was Home. A Home he'd been searching for all his not-so-long 24 years.

Somewhere in his reverie, Clay had begun humming, a low, flowing spiritual he'd heard once as a child. He could feel the music swelling in his soul, pilling out into the crisp night air, engulfing all the hatred and ugliness the world had to offer and replacing it with peace and love and harmony and everything beautiful an Angel could offer it.

"Oftentimes I dream of music, of the river that freely flows. And it sings a song sweeter than honey, one everybody knows. Late at night I hear is singing, then again when I wake at dawn. And it fills me up with hope and goodwill, the will to go on, go on."

Go on, go on he did, singing as though his very existance depended on it, oblivious to his stirring mate in the bed. The last word, "Alleluia!" barely a spoken whisper, the stillness of the air broken by nothing but a soft sniffle from behind him.

Clay whirled around to find Ryan sitting up in their bed, tears gleaming in his eyes, hands clutched tightly to his chest. "Clay..." Ryan's voice broke, and two single tears streamed down his cheeks, sliding over his smiling lips. "Angel, that was beautiful. You are beautiful."

A hot flush crept up Clay's freckled cheeks. "I've never felt so...connected, Ryan. It's because of you, I know it. God approves. She loves us, you know." And Clay believed She did. Their love was pure and true, and nothing could come between them.

Ryan grinned at his Angel. His gift from God. Ryan had never been a religious man, but at this moment...he believed. His Angel stood at the window, smiling at him as though Ryan were his whole world. Ryan couldn't believe that no one else knew of the beauty underneath the baggy clothes and sweet, but reserved exterior. Clay was amazing, and that was really the only word Ryan could use to sum up his mate. The moonlight gleamed on that pale, freckled skin, giving it the ethereal glow an Angel deserved. Naked, wings open and spread to their fullest span, Clay looked as though he'd stepped out of a Botticelli painting. Perfection upon imperfection, and Ryan didn't care one whit; he loved this Angel, and would until the day he died.

After a few moments of just watching, Ryan stood up and crossed the room to his mate. He wrapped his arms around Clay's waist and nuzzled his neck, dropping soft kisses on the infintely soft skin. And Ryan knew: they both had to be glowing; the Love that passed between them was staggeringly intense, yet so gentle at the same time. He trailed kisses up Clay's jawline until he reached those gorgeous lips, diving in and losing himself in the melding of lips and tongues. He balanced himself carefully and wrapped one leg around Clay's hip, grinding slowly, sensually against his Angel.

Air became a necessity, and they broke apart, each moaning his displeasure. Ryan returned to Clay's neck, nipping and licking the flesh. Every so often, he stopped to whisper sweet, tantalizing nothings against the pale skin.

"Come to bed, beloved... Come to bed."

***

His wings carried him high above the clouds. He had a meeting with the Almighty, and it wouldn't do to be late! Finally, he reached his destination and perched upon a small stone bench in the middle of a meadow teeming with life. Clay could feel every creature, plant, rock, and stream in the area and revelled in the feeling of unity.

A soft giggle from his side broke his concentration, and the oneness drifted into white noise at the back of his mind. He turned, blinded by the radiance of the being at his side.

"Lord," he whispered, bowing his head slightly. She returned the gesture and wound her arm through his. Her long golden-blonde hair fell in waves over his skin, tickling his bare shoulder. "What can I do for you today, my Lady?" he asked, his Southern twang adding a genteel quality to his words.

She sighed and snuggled into his body. A small smile quirked his lips. He'd missed this. Afternoons spent talking with Her, curling up on a bench or a blanket and just conversing with Her about everything and nothing.

"Do I not reserve the right to spend time with my Angels, Clayton?" She pulled back from him slightly and cocked her head to one side.

He chuckled softly and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. "Of course, my Lady. I just wondered if there was something specific you required of me."

She grinned. "No. I was just wondering how things are going for you on Earth. How is your beloved husband?"

Clay's face shone brightly with happiness, a sentiment that delighted Her. "He's...wonderful. Everything an Angel could want in a mate. He is my everything." He sighed. "People don't understand, for the most part, but it makes no difference. We know that You are with us; Your love and guidance are more important than mortal men's opinions."

Giggling deities are one of the few experiences reserved for Angels, and Clay had never enjoyed his existance more than he did at this moment. Because while he was speaking, She held one hand up to her mouth, chuckling softly and grinning like a loon. "Of course mortal opinions matter!" she exclaimed. "But they should not ruin your lives. You are right, I am with you. You and Ryan are special to me. All of my Children are special, but you two..." She sighed.

"You are right, my Lady." Clay's head jerked to one side, listening intently. "My Lady, I am sorry, but Ryan is waking. He will miss me."

A brilliant grin crossed her face. "Yes, of course. Thank you for coming, Clayton. Go in peace. And don't be a stranger!" He kissed the tip of her nose and turned around.

When he reached the edge of the meadow, he dove off the - what was Heaven situated on, anyway? Not really clouds, but kinda.

"Never a stranger, my Lady. Never."

FIN~