An angel and a demon sat together, alone, beneath a tree bearing very dark apples. The demon was a black-haired, red-clothing-wearing slender teenager and the angel was a blond-haired, blue-eyed adolescent. Around them were only fields, fields of the greenest grass. It was hard to believe that in a few hundred years this would be turned into downtown Detroit.

"Did it hurt?" the demon asked the angel.

"What?"

"When you fell from Heaven."

She wacked him across the head with her hand, but playfully, affectionately.

"They'll kill us, you know," said the angel, "if they find out."

"Deja Vu," said the demon. "Have you said this before?"

"Only a thousand times."

"I was being sarcastic."

"Sarcasm's a sin, I think."

"Which would explain why I said it, of course."

"Listen," said the angel seriously, "This must stop. I have a reputation to keep."

"I'm too embarrassing to tell your friends about?" the demon said, pretending to be hurt.

"We could lose our lives. If not that, all we've ever worked for."

"Oh, good, I've never worked at anything in my life, so it won't make much difference."

"Have you worked for me?"

He smiled then, one of those rare, beautiful smiles that every demon has the ability to express but never has the personality to do so. "With all I have," he said tenderly.

She blushed. "Th-that's so corny," she said, trying to mask her heart beat behind words.

He chuckled darkly. "I know. I learned it from you."

She stood, deciding to ignore said comment. She paced beneath the shade of the tree, listening to the whispering winds and the singing of ignorant birds.

"Why are you so concerned, anyway?" asked the demon.

She flung her arms up. "I could lose everything if they found out I was with you!"

"With me physically, or emotionally?" asked the demon genuinely.

She shrugged. "Both, I guess, are high offenses. I just think things would be better if we stayed away from each other."

"You've always said that, but you never do anything about it," said the demon, hugging his knees and staring at the blue, blue sky. "Are you sure you really care what other people think?"

"I'm just...scared," she said quietly.

"Of what?" he asked.

"Well, in my world, I'd lose many priviledges, and be no doubt punished. But you!" she swiveled around and stared in his eyes. "You live in Hell. Now tell me, O Great Demon, what do you think the punishment would be for you?"

He was about to say something along the lines of, horrible, blood-curdling, nauseating, scarringly disturbing, when he realized something.

"Wait, you're afraid for me?"

She blushed and was suddenly engrossed in the tree's bark.

"Well, yeah," she said, gritting her teeth and clutching the bark with her delicate fingers. "I love you, y'know?"

He stared at her, amazed at her words. Love? Demons knew no such thing. Demons were bad, evil things, who didn't know love, life, or happiness...then again, hadn't he been feeling these things all this time, with her?

He was suddenly afraid, jumping up and pacing this way and that. "Love? Love? Love?" he kept repeating.

She sighed and sat on the ground. "Is that...is that...a bad thing?" She seemed intensely sad at his display of uncertainty.

He swiveled around and stared at her. "Uh..." he tried to think. As a child, he'd always been taught that all things angelic were wrong. Love, life, happiness...all those listed above and more. And he'd dated the angel because he wanted to go against the system, which was the ultimate bad...but now, it had grown into something more. By God--a huge offense to say, for a demon--he was in love. And it didn't feel half bad.

He kneeled down beside her and gently kissed her hand. She blushed and looked away.

"Not at all," he said. "Not at all."