Disclaimer: I don't own Angel Sanctuary or any of the characters associated with it.

Chapter I: Don't throw objects out the window.

Suppose you just met prince charming. Dream of every girl or maybe not, the guy is handsome, tall, rich and famous. Well, the famous is contextualization, in older days this guy was a prince. Your future married life would be top notch; he would provide you anything and everything. His devotion unsurpassed, the whole world envious of you.

What could go wrong?

First, have you ever stopped to think why they never mention his personality? Or do you think the titles and money really will nurture you emotionally and will set the base for endless love? Smart girls don't fall for this stock character. Smart girls know that if his personality closely resembles an Iceberg, they will wisely not follow Titanic's example. When I met him, only later did I apply these traits to him, but even knowing the stereotype sucked, I went obliviously down the unwise path. Damn, I was supposed to be a smart girl!

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Some days can be so busy they make you feel drained, but others can be so boring, so tedious, you would definitely scream in agony. This was obviously one of these days. I tapped my fingers incessantly on the mahogany desk at the same rhythm of the ticking clock such was my failing state of mind. So much for the daily routine of taking in cases and more cases, no one needed a lawyer today. Tsk, God must be so proud.

Normally, I have many clients calling me for my clean and professional work they say, but this wednesday didn’t seem so normal like all the others. The watch marked precisely six pm and no living soul had contacted me yet. When I graduated, everyone made this profession seem so grand, so full of live. When you look from the outside, everything we do is a large scheme. We are tricksters with amazing lives and an empty consciousness. The trials the movies reproduce are full of vigor. Elaborate civilized fights between two slick language masters is a rare occasion, I know it to be true in some aspects.

Yet, there are the boring parts too. There are much less complex ones, where a simple statement is enough. Or were the law in the paper is ultimately the last word. Also, don't expect to be contacted every time.

With a tired sign, I tried to find something to ease my mind. Anything would do as long as I wasn't bored anymore. However, there was nothing I could do for distraction. Worse part was I had only myself to blame for that. In desperation, I simply started twirling my pen through my fingers.

It was fun for the past five minutes, but all comes to an end. The atmosphere was dreadful once more and now it was twice as bad. In trying to distract myself, I didn’t notice that indeed a message had come forth.

My posture went from lifeless and unfeeling to lively and eager in a blink of an eye. I pressed the button excitedly just to have my happiness dashed away by my brothers gaily voice. “Big sister, don’t forget to bring me some candy when you come back. See you later hot stuff. Love you, bye!”

Hot stuff, what is this? Sexual harassment? If someone happened to pass by, what would I say to them? ‘Oh no sir/ma’am that was just my younger brother on the phone. He is kind of narcissistic so he praises my looks to indirectly praise his own since we are siblings and we look extremely alike. Funny, isn’t it?’

I threw myself despondently on my nice chair already losing hopes of having any judicial commitment for the week. Not standing sitting down any longer, I got up from my seat with a little too much impulse. The chair lost its holding point and made a go for the marble floor. The world seemed to flow in slow motion as I awkwardly and futilely reached for the stool. It was too late, I couldn’t reach it.

It hit the floor with a resounding clang, the metallic sound echoing on the light beige walls. Great, now everyone is going to complain about my disorderly behavior. It’s not like it happens every day, you know. That time with the phone was an accident. I was having a bad day and my PMS was at its peak.

Try and explain that to the old geezers working next door. Ha, they'll sooner eat your liver or something. Even though the building was well located and well taken care of, any sound louder than usual could be heard from the walls. But it wasn’t so bad since nobody was going around screaming.

A knock at my door alerted me that they just wouldn’t let it go today. Moving as leisurely as possible once I stood directly in front of the door, my bored brain made me stand there waiting for another knock, didn’t take long, the person knocked at my entrance again. In response, I flew open the door with this really nasty scowl.

With a deer caught in the headlight look, Mrs. Anael still had her hand hanging in the air. I scared the living daylight out of her. I smiled sheepishly up at her. “Sorry. I’m not having a good day. Anyway, what brings you here Anael?”

She gave me a serene smile, always sculpted on her face these days. “I heard a clanging noise, are you okay?”

Well, at least someone cares about me here. If I had fallen and broken something, I’d be lying around all day. Those old hags wouldn’t give a damn about it.

Anael was Zaphikel’s wife, she was a really nice lady helping everyone as best as she could. Always smiling and wishing everyone a good day. She brought me cookies every week and also gave me good advice. She’s awesome, right?

My demeanor was much more pleasant by now, Anael's gentle grace calling out the best in me. I kind of have to admit, at best, I can be moody and anti social. Try and imagine the worse now. “I’m ok, it was just my chair. Thanks… for coming to check?”

Realizing she hadn't told me what she wanted yet, the blond woman handed me a small letter. By her expression it wasn’t good news. She bowed respectfully and said her farewells. I wish my mom was like that, Raziel is so lucky! If he got a B or something I bet his mother wouldn’t try to chop of his head. I assure you, Bs on my school’s report card meant a psychotic break down.

Being lazy like I am, I checked the corridors to see if anyone else was looking for my attention. It was deserted. A very disturbing sight, the ancient committee wasn’t coming to scold me? Well, ok I could live with that change.

I closed the door quietly, let’s not tread too much on our new found luck. Adjusting the chair to its former position, I opened the envelope and was ready to read, the blinking red light coming from the phone grasped my attention. Pressing the key and waiting for the usual beep, I listened.

“Miss Hargreaves, while we know the notion of silence is alien to you, we wish you would be less unmanageable and would respect the elder and more competent workers of this edifice. Have a nice day, from the committee.”

What the hell? Jerks, they aren’t competent. As far as I know they are all senile! And what’s this? Couldn’t they have come tell me that to my face? I’m not some rebellious druggy teenager fresh out from rehab!

A little bit angry still, I decided to leave unimportant matters aside to focus on the notification I currently held in hands. Big mistake. As I read each line my face went paler and my mouth sourer. Great, now I was unemployed!

Pacing around furiously, I tried to my best efforts to manage my anger, but was failing miserably. Unemployed! My senior and ex-teacher, who also happened to be my major client, just wrote a letter saying unfortunately my services are no longer needed. The anger was so much I ended up opting for the not always right, but efficient enough wracking havoc choice. I scanned the office for an easily replaceable object. My eyes fell on my chosen stress reliever or perhaps victim.

Reaching my hand all the way up were the poor, unsuspecting clock rested, I grabbed a hold of it, trying pointlessly to bend it. After a constant of failed attempts, the window suddenly brightened up in my eyes. It would suffice.

Standing a few inches away from it, I readily prepared to throw the watch as far as my wrath would let it. It fell to its demise in a parabolic trajectory; flying a whole twenty meters were it finally stopped at a man’s head. I could hear no pained sound coming from him, but I was mighty sure that it hurt like hell.

Oh shit, I killed a man with a clock!

My mouth fell open in a most unflattering way, but can you blame me? I was half way between laughing and getting desperate. Seriously, I had either really good aim or simply extremely bad one. You choose it.

I glanced through my window one last time before dashing for the door and down the elevator. I run in the fallen man’s direction, praying to whatever divine deities were out there for him to be fine and breathing. Somewhere along the way I lost one of my shoes and coincidently stepped with my barefoot on a coincidental puddle of water. Why, total stranger, my sympathy for you has decreased a little bit.

After a lot of stumbling and painful grunts, I finally reached my goal. I carefully went around some of the grey plastic pieces that no doubt had come from my now officially deceased clock. Looking at the destruction I caused, I don’t think I’ll ever throw anything out the window ever again.

I took a good look at my victim and my eyes went wide with stun. I could have hit the crazy guy that always lurked around the street or even the nuns that rarely passed, but no, I just had to be so lucky didn’t I.

Black hair, a little over his shoulder, it fell around his face in messy locks. Well shaped eyebrows and nose, his lips were equally sculpted and some of his veins could be seen in the marble pale of his soft skin. His features overall were outwardly masculine even if they had a certain feminine quality hidden somewhere, but my concern was that I knew exactly who this man was. In fact anyone that read a journal would know him. His photos had been appearing quite a lot on the front pages and certainly there was a huge commotion about the newest CEO of the Disraeli Industries.

Lucifer Disraeli was probably born with a golden spoon on his mouth. No, make it a golden, diamond crested spoon. Eldest son of the most successful business man to date, he already had a guaranteed career while other children could only dream of their first toy. Spoiled senselessly by his parents, he had gone only to the best private schools and had everything he could ever wish for.

Recently, his father had passed away leaving the ownership and head position to his heir. Much speculation if the son would live up to the father had sprouted from magazines and I had to admit they were rather cruel when criticizing the young Disraeli.

I wonder what someone so important was doing around here. Did he need an attorney? Had the “Genius Boy” committed a crime? Oh, this is rich. The press would go crazy about this and I sure as hell didn’t want to be involved.

I noticed the blatant wound a little below his eyebrow. It had hit pretty hard. Fishing a handkerchief from my pocket, I gently pressed it over the cut, careful not to hurt him any further. He fluttered his eyes attempting to regain consciousness, but it was to no avail.

I tried shocking his shoulders softly, always heard you can cause brain damage if you shake someone violently while they have passed out. Calling out to him kindly, I continued cleaning his wound. At least, he couldn’t blame me for not helping him out. With some difficulty, he finally opened his eyes. Like a stupid teen girl I stared in awe at them; they were of an unusual grey color. When he looked at me, his gaze lacked feeling. It was chilling, but I tried hiding my uneasiness.

The magazines always stressed how the man while having many accomplishments had no friends they knew of and seemed to be content living that way. The articles also loved pointing out the Disraeli heir had the personality and emotional feedback of an Iceberg.

I offered my hand to help him to his feet, but he eyed it haughtily and chose to ignore my presence. I didn’t comment on it and decided to be friendly one more time. “Are you alright, sir?”

He brushed off the dirt from his, no doubt overly expensive suit, and glided a hand over his wound. It was bleeding still, but he wasn’t fazed in the slightest bit by it. He turned his gaze to me and then to the clock near my feet. “Is this yours?”

If I thought my answering machine’s voice was cold than this guys was as cold as liquid hydrogen. I started wondering if I really should trust the magazines more, apparently they weren’t being mean or lying scumbags when they said Disraeli was an ice cube.

“Yes, I’m sorry if I hit you with it. Really, I didn’t know you were there.” I responded his hard gaze with a sheepish one of my own.

He closed his eyes as if contemplating. A faint smirk appeared on his lips for a few moments, but his face was quickly back to its stoic expression again. Turning the ice beam he called eyesight in my direction, the winter prince crushed my hopes of getting along with him just fine as fast as lightning.

“Well, a simple sorry is not enough. I would rather have some kind of repayment.”

My face froze in an incredulous expression. What did he expect, for me to throw myself at his feet and worship him?

“What else can I do? I didn’t do it on purpose!” I was dumbfounded, how could he be such a jerk.

My reply was said to the wind or something because he didn’t really seem to pay heed to it. He just didn’t care if I apologized or not and most likely he didn’t care for anything I did to make amends. It finally downed on me, his stupid ego was probably hurt and he wanted revenge for his public display. It wasn’t even that public since the street was almost deserted.

His disdainful voice reached my ears. “Since you say you have nothing to offer than I’m sure the court can find it for you.”

His moving in on legal matters, to me, felt like he was invading my territory. Needless to say, my reaction was pretty bad. “Just suing me would be the solution to everything wouldn’t it, you asshole. Well, fine then, you can sue me! I’ll win this stupid case against any of your overpaid attorneys.” I wasn’t being cocky at all, actually, I was going to slave myself to win this.

“Really, your lawyer seems very good.” His tone was mocking and I just couldn’t help, but grunt back in anger.

“Yeah, you can be damn sure! After this is over I’m upgrading from “Iron Maiden” to “Invincible girl”!”

I don’t know what magic word I used exactly, all I know is that his face wasn’t infuriatingly smug anymore and he looked at me in a new way. All of a sudden, I was extremely interesting to this annoying man and a feeling deep down told me I was in for something big.

“Are you Alexiel Hargreaves?” He asked me intently.

I didn’t really intend to, but at present situation I was angry and anything I said would come out threatening. “That’s me. How the hell do you know my name?” I hissed menacingly, possibly making even a snake run away. Though I found this one didn’t run.

He started laughing out of the blue. What was funny, I didn’t know. He found it fun to go around threatening other people? Good for him, however, I didn’t think it humorous at all. I was almost making up my mind on giving him a punch square on his jaw, when he stopped chuckling as fast as he started.

“I came here to hire you. In my head you were an old woman, but no matter. Do you have a curriculum with you?” His casual tone wrung in my head.

Once again, I looked at him disbelievingly.

“You were going to sue me and now you’re hiring me?” I asked astonished.

Are you nuts? I wanted to ask, but the previous message carried the undertone well enough. He did things out of a whim, certainly no one ever told him that’s an inconsiderate thing to do sometimes.

“Well?” He demanded impatiently.

“It’s in my office. It’s right over there.” I pointed behind me to the building in question.

A/N: This is my last attempted revision of this and I honestly hope most of the mistakes are fixed by now. When an authoress looks at her work, she should definitely love it just like the readers. When I read this, it was full of factual errors and lousy reasons given to otherwise amazing characters. So I tried to make it better. I wish it to be better.

Is it better? Maybe yes and maybe no, but I simply want to make a good story. Reviews are always apreciated, thanks for reading.