Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

Gabriel practically bolted off the plane at Los Angeles International Airport, her radiant presence garnering more than a few curious stares. Her wings were carefully hidden as per Michael's instructions. 

Though the occasional stray feather drifted to the floor, causing a janitor to question his sanity, she looked around with the wide-eyed excitement of someone visiting Earth for the first time.

To be clear, this isn't the first time, nor is it in the single digits.

But, that didn't deter her curious and adorable personality.

"The ground is so smooth here!" Gabriel exclaimed, twirling in place as her long hair shimmered unnaturally under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Oh, Clara, look! Tiny cars are zooming around on the runway! Do the humans get to drive those? They look so fun!"

Clara sighed deeply, already sensing this would be a long day. "Gabriel, those aren't cars. They're baggage carts. For luggage. Not for joyriding." 

She grabbed the archangel's arm gently, steering her away from the window before Gabriel started waving at unsuspecting ground crew. "We need to stay focused. We have a mission, remember?"

"Oh, of course!" Gabriel said, her enthusiasm undeterred. "We're here to find my brother, Guldrin Toretto. He's my new family." She said the word family with such reverence that it sounded like the cornerstone of her celestial existence.

Clara pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture that was quickly becoming her trademark in Gabriel's presence. "Yes, and step one of that mission is figuring out where he actually is. Step two is getting there without causing an international incident."

As they walked through the terminal, Gabriel became distracted by everything. The moving walkway had her convinced she'd discovered a portal to another dimension. 

The vending machines were declared "mysterious metal cupboards of sustenance," and the luggage carousel was "a magical contraption where humans receive their worldly belongings."

"Gabriel, it's not magic. It's just technology," Clara explained for the fifth time in as many minutes, as Gabriel clapped her hands in delight at a nearby carousel that spat out a neon-green suitcase.

Gabriel tilted her head, her golden halo catching the light. "Technology is magic if you think about it hard enough, I read it on the laptopy thing you brought with us on the plane." she said sagely, like she was dispensing divine wisdom.

Clara groaned. "Okay, Plato. Can we focus now?"

But Gabriel wasn't listening. She had already zeroed in on the flight attendants, marveling at their crisp uniforms. "Their outfits are so coordinated! Do you think they're angels too? Like some kind of human angels without wings? Father would be impressed with your ingenuity. Oh, what if they're some kind of travel angels?! Can I get a uniform? I am traveling, after all."

Clara sighed. "You're a literal archangel, Gabriel. You don't need a uniform to prove it."

"But it's so neat! And they wear those little hats. Do you think I could-?"

"Gabriel," Clara interrupted, grabbing her by the arm and steering her toward the terminal exit. "We need to find your brother. Remember? Toretto? Family? Ringing any bells?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Gabriel nodded so vigorously, her halo tilted to the side, catching the light and momentarily blinding a passing tourist. The tourist was shocked and confused, as he couldn't even see the halo if he looked, so this was just weird happenstance to him.

"We're on a grand quest to reunite with my new dear brother. It's so exciting! Where do we go first?"

"The nearest public library," Clara said firmly. "We need to look up his address."

Before Clara could shepherd her charge toward something resembling a safe, responsible mode of transportation, Gabriel's attention locked onto a man loitering near the vending machines. He was tall, scruffy, and inexplicably wearing sunglasses indoors. 

To Gabriel, this screamed 'trustworthy', the very picture of a dependable guide. 

To Clara, it screamed 'Danger, danger! Run away now!'

"Excuse me, kind sir!" Gabriel called out, her voice so sweet and melodic that it practically turned heads across the terminal. "Do you know where we can find a Toretto? He's my brother, and I'd very much like to see him!"

The man turned, his face lighting up with a grin that could've frightened a thousand snakes. 

His eyebrows shot up, and his smirk widened into something that, for most people, would have prompted an immediate call to airport security. "Toretto, huh? Sure, I might know something. Why don't you come with me? I'll help you out."

Clara's internal alarms went nuclear, red lights flashing behind her eyes. 

She stepped forward, shielding Gabriel from the man, as though her mere presence could stop whatever absolute nonsense was about to unfold. 

"Oh, no, no, no, not again." Clara muttered under her breath, arms wide as if she were corralling a particularly mischievous golden retriever. "Gabriel, we're not-"

But Gabriel, being the cosmic tooth-rotting cinnamon roll she was, had already grasped the man's hand in both of hers, her smile so radiant it could've powered a small city. "Thank you! You're so kind! Clara, isn't he kind? Just look at his kind face!"

"Kind face?" Clara hissed through gritted teeth. "That face has 'future Netflix serial killer documentary' written all over it. Gabriel, let's go. Now."

The man, unbothered, gave them a wave toward the exit. "Come on, ladies. I'll take you exactly where you need to go."

"Oh, wonderful!" Gabriel said, starting to follow him with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn't seen every single red flag being flung in her direction like a parade gone rogue.

Clara, on the other hand, was already imagining tomorrow's headlines: "Airport Angel Nearly Kidnapped by Sketchy Dude: Sidekick Tries to Save the Day and Gets Kidnapped As Well." 

Grabbing Gabriel by the wrist, she yanked her back so hard it nearly dislodged the archangel's metaphorical halo. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope. We are NOT following Sketchy McSunglasses to whatever van-shaped nightmare he crawled out of."

The man frowned, his oily charm slipping into something closer to annoyance. "Hey, I'm just trying to help-"

"Help yourself to a conscience, leave, and reflect on your actions." Clara snapped, dragging Gabriel away as fast as humanly possible. "Come on, Gabriel. We're finding a cab."

Gabriel twisted to look back at the man, her confusion so genuine it almost made Clara feel bad. Almost. "But Clara, he seemed so nice! Why are we leaving? He wanted to help us."

"Because he wasn't nice, Gabriel," Clara said, shoving her friend unceremoniously into the back seat of a cab. "He was a walking red flag factory. And until you learn to spot them, I'm going to have to save you from every single one. I am your guide, listen to me, and maybe, maybe, we might stay out of the creepo van."

Gabriel, now held in Clara's arms with an indignant pout, crossed her arms petulantly. "You're so untrusting, Clara. You should really have more faith in people."

Clara let out a humorless laugh, the kind that only bubbled up in the face of cosmic levels of ridiculousness. "Oh, I should have more faith? Says the literal archangel, who almost got sold for spare parts because she 'wanted to pet the puppies' outside a suspicious warehouse. I don't even know how you disappeared like that before we got on the plane."

Gabriel's pout deepened, her lower lip jutting out to a degree that probably broke some kind of celestial law. "Hey! That wasn't my fault. Those puppies looked very lonely. And besides, I saved you from that whole mess, didn't I? And all those other people? You could say my divine instincts were right. I saved you before, and a lot of other people. Then, I did it again… I did a good thing."

Clara groaned, letting her head fall against the cab's headrest. "Your 'divine instincts' walked you into a trap, Gabriel. You waltzed into that sketchy building like it was your personal holy calling, got caught immediately, and then I had to pull every trick I knew to save your celestial butt."

"I was the one to save you." She pouted, "I didn't tell you to come into the warehouse and attack the guards… Who knows, maybe if you had a little more faith-" Gabriel began, but Clara shot her a look that could've melted steel.

"What about when you walked into a back alley labeled 'Definitely Not a Kidnapping Spot,'" Clara said, her voice rising in pitch. "Faith is not going to stop me from getting gray hairs if you keep this up."

Gabriel crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. "You're just cynical, Love thy neighbor, Clara. Cynical people miss out on all the goodness in the world."

"And naive people end up in datelines, ditches or worse, with their wings clipped." Clara shot back, her voice sharp. "Look, I know you think the world's one big happy place full of unicorns and rainbows, but-"

"Unicorns are very nice, actually," Gabriel interjected, her tone suddenly dreamy. "Do you think Guldrin has ever seen one? Maybe I should find him one as a gift! Or two, so they won't get lonely-"

Gabriel's eyes widened in horror as her mind finally processed Clara's words, her delicate mouth forming a perfect little "O" of outrage as she clutched her chest as though Clara had just stabbed her with the world's most insulting metaphorical dagger. 

"Clipping my wings?" she gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief, fury and indignation. "My wings? Clipped? How dare you even suggest such a thing, Clara! That's… why, that's sacrilegious! It's barbaric! It's- it's-" 

She flailed her arms dramatically, nearly smacking an unsuspecting passerby, who wisely chose to scuttle away from the commotion. "It's unholy! Who would do such a vile, monstrous thing?"

Clara pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting her choice of words. "Gabriel, I didn't mean-"

"Who?" Gabriel demanded, now pacing frantically in tight, fluttery circles. Her wings, hidden from human sight but very much present to her, trembled indignantly. "Who goes around clipping wings? Do they have a club? A guild? A, what do humans call it? A union? Are there meetings? Oh, I'd give them a piece of my mind! They'd rue the day they even thought of laying a hand on my glorious appendages!"

Clara, struggling not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, sighed heavily and tried to steer her toward the cab area to find a ride to the nearest public library so they can at least begin this maddening quest. "Gabriel, for the love of all that's holy, calm down. Nobody's clipping your wings. It was a figure of speech."

Gabriel whipped around, her expression as fierce as a fluffy kitten trying to look intimidating. "That's not funny, Clara. Wings are sacred! They're a symbol of freedom and divinity and-" She paused dramatically, holding up a finger. " Given to us by Father. And also excellent for hugging. Imagine depriving the world of that! Who would be so cruel?"

Clara blinked at her, torn between strangling her or laughing hysterically. "Gabriel. Focus. We're here to find your little brother, not start a wing revolution.

A cab driver, who had been quiet up to this point, standing next to his tab, suddenly let out a snort of laughter. "You two are somethin' else," he muttered, shaking his head as he skillfully approached the two with a polite smile. "Why don't you use my car? I could do with some amusement on the clock."

Gabriel immediately lit up like a Christmas tree, her wings, miraculously hidden for now, almost seeming to shimmer in her delight. She twisted around to beam at the driver, her enthusiasm borderline overwhelming. "Oh, thank you! See, Clara? Even he thinks we're delightful!"

The driver met her gaze briefly in the rearview mirror as they slid into the cab, one brow raised, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, delightful's one word for it," he deadpanned, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were holding back a laugh.

Clara, meanwhile, had buried her face in her hands like someone experiencing a very slow-motion car crash that they could do nothing to stop. "Gabriel, I am begging you, please. Just… just no more conversations until we get there. Sir, take us to the nearest safe public library. Please. Somewhere Her-proof, preferably."

"You got it, Missy," the driver replied with a chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. "Just ignore me and enjoy your, uh… conversation. I'll get ya where ya need to go."

Gabriel, of course, ignored both the driver's mild sarcasm and Clara's desperate pleas for silence. Her attention had already been drawn to a billboard outside the window, one that boldly advertised a petting zoo just ten minutes off-route. 

Her face lit up with childlike glee as she pressed her nose against the glass. "Oh! Look! Goats! Clara, we should stop and see the goats. They look so fluffy!"

Clara didn't even glance up. "No."

Gabriel pouted so hard it was a wonder her lips didn't fall off her face. "But-"

"No," Clara repeated, her voice flat and final, though her patience was visibly fraying. "Gabriel, goats aren't fluffy. Have you even seen a goat up close?"

"Yes, I have," Gabriel retorted indignantly, folding her arms as if offended that Clara would even suggest otherwise. "And for your information, they're extremely fluffy if you meet the right ones. You're just being cynical again."

"I'm being realistic," Clara shot back, rubbing her temples like she was trying to physically massage away the stress of having Gabriel as her self-imposed charge. "Realistic means saying no to random goat-related detours, especially after you walked into that alley last week labeled 'Definitely Not a Kidnapping Spot.'"

The cab driver let out a bark of laughter at that. "You did what now?"

Gabriel huffed, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder with an air of righteous indignation. "I was following my faith in humanity," she said defensively, as if this explained everything.

"You were following an alley sign," Clara corrected, her voice rising. "One that literally had a cartoon van with a 'Free Candy' sign on it, Gabriel. You can't just… trust every random thing you see!"

"It said 'Definitely Not'!" Gabriel protested, gesturing animatedly. "That's honesty right there! Who would write that if it weren't true?"

Clara stared at her, aghast. "Who wouldn't write that if they were trying to lure someone like you in?!"

The driver was laughing so hard he was practically wheezing now. "Lady," he said, glancing at Clara in the mirror, "you got your hands full with this one."

"You don't say," Clara muttered darkly, glaring daggers at Gabriel, who had gone back to staring longingly at the goat billboard.

The angel, utterly unbothered by Clara's simmering frustration, turned to the driver with wide, hopeful eyes. "Sir," she began sweetly, her voice laced with all the innocence of a child asking for just one more bedtime story. "Do you think we could make a tiny detour? It would only take a minute, and I'm sure Clara would love the goats if she just gave them a chance."

"No," Clara said immediately.

"I mean…" The driver hesitated, clearly weighing the entertainment value of this ongoing saga against the need to stay professional. "Goats are kinda cute…"

"Don't encourage her!" Clara snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

Gabriel gasped, clutching her chest like Clara had just suggested something truly heinous. "Clara! How could you? Siding against fluffy creatures of joy and love? That's like… like clipping my wings!"

Clara froze mid-rant, her mouth hanging open in shock. "Oh, here we go, again" she muttered, bracing herself.

Gabriel's wings, usually kept hidden to avoid any awkward explanations in public—flared to life in her mind, at least metaphorically. She stared at Clara, her voice trembling with indignation. "You know how I feel about wing-clipping! That is not funny, Clara. Not funny at all!"

"It was a metaphor, Gabriel, and you were the one that brought it up again." Clara said, her exasperation reaching dangerous new heights. "No one is actually clipping your wings!"

"But you implied it!" Gabriel shot back, her voice rising as she gestured wildly, narrowly avoiding smacking the cab's roof. "Do you know how offensive that is to an angel?!"

The driver, now thoroughly enjoying the show, chimed in. "What's next? Gonna accuse her of declawing kittens, too?" He might not understand most of what is being said about angels and what not, but this was too fun to not add fuel to the fire.

"Exactly!" Gabriel exclaimed, pointing at him like he'd just solved a great mystery. "See, even he understands! Clara, you've hurt my soul."

"I'm this close to losing mine," Clara muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Gabriel wasn't done. She leaned forward, her face inches from Clara's, her expression deadly serious. "I would never clip your wings, Clara. I'd give you wings if I could! Fluffy ones! Like the goats!"

Clara blinked, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or just open the door and fling herself out of the moving car. "Gabriel," she said slowly, "you're driving me insane. Insane. This is what insanity feels like."

Gabriel beamed, entirely missing the point. "See? You're experiencing new things because of me! Isn't that wonderful?"

The driver shook his head, laughing as he pulled into the library's parking lot. "Alright, ladies, end of the line. You've officially brightened my day."

Clara practically fell out of the cab in her haste to escape, muttering something about divine intervention and strong coffee. Gabriel, however, handed him a wad of cash and paused to wave enthusiastically. "Thank you for your kindness, sir! May your days be filled with fluffy goats and joyful surprises!"

The driver tipped his cap, grinning. "Same to you, angel lady. Same to you."

As they walked toward the library, Clara glanced at Gabriel, who was still humming happily to herself. "You're unbelievable," she said, shaking her head.

"I know," Gabriel replied cheerfully. "Isn't it great?"

Before Clara could launch into another tirade, Gabriel spun around and started marching toward the direction of the library, her wings fluttering with determination. "I will find my brother, Clara. And I will save anyone who needs saving along the way. And find the GOATS!"

Gabriel marched down the sidewalk with the intensity of someone who thought she was on a holy crusade but looked more like a lost tourist at Disneyland. Pedestrians stared at her with amusement. Clara, meanwhile, trailed behind like a harried parent trying to keep their overly enthusiastic child from running into traffic.

"Gabriel, you can't just-" Clara started, but Gabriel cut her off by abruptly stopping in front of a hot dog stand.

"What is this glorious feast?" Gabriel gasped, pointing at the sizzling meat. Her eyes sparkled like she'd just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. "Do humans eat this? Is it… sacred?"

The vendor, a grizzled man with a New York accent that made zero sense in LA, looked up from his cart. "Lady, it's a hot dog. You want one or what?"

Gabriel clapped her hands together. "I want seven!"

Clara groaned. "Gabriel, we don't have time for-" Her stomach growled, and she blushed, Fine…"

Gabriel spun around, holding up a single finger in a wait-your-turn gesture that nearly smacked a passing jogger in the face. "Clara, nourishment is vital for our mission! You can't fight evil on an empty stomach!"

"I'm not fighting evil," Clara muttered as Gabriel handed over a handful of cash and skipped away with an armful of hot dogs.

She proceeded to hand one to every person she passed, declaring, "A gift from the heavens! Enjoy this holy sausage and may your day be blessed!"

By the time they reached the next street corner, Gabriel had given away five hot dogs and eaten two herself. Clara stared at her in disbelief as she licked mustard off her fingers.

"You're like a walking, celestial disaster," Clara said.

Gabriel beamed, mustard smudged on her cheek like a badge of honor. "A blessed celestial disaster," she corrected, winking at a bewildered cyclist who had just been handed a hot dog without so much as slowing down. "I'm spreading joy, Clara! Look at all these smiling faces!"

Clara scanned the street. Most people weren't smiling; they were confused, startled, or, in one case, suspiciously sniffing the hot dog like it might explode. "They look more terrified than joyful," Clara muttered, trying to grab Gabriel's attention. "And how are you still hungry after eating two of those? Are you part bottomless pit?"

"I'm fueled by divine energy!" Gabriel declared proudly, raising her empty hands toward the sky. "And hot dogs, apparently. Oh, look! More humans in need!" She darted off toward a group of construction workers, who were taking a break near their truck.

"Wait! Gabriel-" Clara groaned, too late to stop her.

Gabriel approached the men with the confidence of someone who thought they were a goodwill ambassador for the entire human race. "Gentlemen!" she began, producing another wad of cash from who-knows-where. "Have you been working hard? Building things? Fighting gravity?"

The foreman, a burly guy with a hard hat and a mustache that looked like it could double as a broom, blinked at her. "Uh… yeah?"

"Then you've earned yourselves a feast!" Gabriel announced. She grabbed her phone, Clara had got her one after their last separation and, somehow she'd figured out the basics of food delivery, and began furiously typing. "How do you feel about… tacos? Or pizza? Oh! Or perhaps everything!"

Clara caught up, out of breath. "Gabriel, what are you doing? We have a mission!"

Gabriel spun around, holding up the phone like it was Excalibur. "I'm ordering sustenance for these noble laborers! They're building things, Clara! They deserve nourishment!" She turned back to the foreman. "Do you prefer pineapple on pizza or no?"

The man scratched his head, clearly unsure how to respond. "Uh… no?"

"Perfect!" Gabriel chirped, adding it to her order anyway. 

She pressed the button with a flourish. "It'll be here in twenty minutes. Until then, have these." She thrust the rest of her cash into the foreman's hands, who stared at it like she'd just handed him a bag of gold bars.

Clara grabbed Gabriel by the arm and started dragging her away. "We don't have time for this! You can't just throw money and food at every single person you see!"

"But they looked hungry!" Gabriel protested, looking over her shoulder at the construction crew, who were now staring after her with expressions ranging from confusion to gratitude. "And tired! Did you see their weary souls? They needed me!"

"They needed a coffee break, not a celestial intervention," Clara snapped. "Come on, we need to get to the library before you bankrupt us or accidentally start a food revolution."

"But it isn't even my money, I took it from the bad guys…"

Gabriel pouted but allowed herself to be led, at least until they passed a bus stop where a group of teenagers was loitering. She skidded to a halt, her eyes lighting up again. "Clara, look at those poor, lost lambs!"

"They're not lambs, Gabriel," Clara said through gritted teeth. "They're just kids waiting for a bus. Leave them alone."

But Gabriel was already rifling through her phone again. "Ice cream," she said decisively. "They need ice cream."

Clara groaned, running a hand down her face. "Why are you like this?"

Gabriel ignored her, waving her phone triumphantly. "Clara, the world is full of people who need help! And I am here to help them, one snack at a time."

By the time they actually made it to the library, Gabriel had handed out approximately thirty hot dogs, twelve ice cream cones, six boxes of pizza, three taco platters, and an uncounted amount of cash to various strangers. 

Clara looked like she'd aged ten years, her hair slightly frazzled, her eye twitching. "We are never doing this again," she muttered as they walked through the library doors.

Gabriel, on the other hand, was as chipper as ever. "See? Wasn't that fun? So many happy faces! So much joy spread!"

"You emptied half your bank account," Clara pointed out. "We're lucky we're not broke."

Gabriel waved her hand dismissively. "Money is just a tool, Clara. And what better use for it than spreading happiness?"

Clara rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. She was too tired to argue. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just find a computer and, oh my Go- Gosh, what are you doing now?!"

Gabriel had stopped in front of a bulletin board covered in flyers for community events. "Clara, look!" she said, pointing at a poster for a bake sale. "Cookies! For charity! We have to support them!"

"No. No, we do not," Clara said, grabbing Gabriel's arm and dragging her toward the computer section. "We're here for the internet, remember? The internet! Not cookies, not hot dogs, not-" She stopped, glaring at Gabriel, who had somehow managed to swipe a stack of the bake sale flyers. "Gabriel, put those down."

"But people need to know!" Gabriel said, clutching the flyers to her chest like they were sacred texts. "Charity is important, Clara! What if someone sees these and decides to help?"

"They'll figure it out without your intervention," Clara said, steering her toward a row of computers. "Now sit. Stay. Don't move. I'm going to set this up so we can finally get some actual work done."

Gabriel plopped into a chair, looking around the library with wide-eyed wonder. "This place is amazing," she whispered. "So many books. So much knowledge. Clara, do you think they have a section on celestial beings?"

"They probably do," Clara said distractedly, typing furiously. "But we don't have time for that. Just… sit still and don't break anything."

Gabriel nodded solemnly. "I won't break anything. I promise."

Clara didn't even have time to feel relieved before she heard Gabriel's voice again. "Clara! Look! A book on knitting! Do you think I could knit something for the goats? Like little sweaters?"

Clara turned slowly, her face a mask of exhaustion. "Gabriel, we're not here for-"

"I could make them scarves too!" Gabriel continued, oblivious to Clara's mounting frustration. "Goats get cold, right? Do you think they'd like hats? Oh, my Father! It's perfect, I could make Guldrin and the Goat matching clothes!"

Clara sighed, slumping in her chair. "I give up. I officially give up."

Gabriel, of course, took this as permission to continue her enthusiastic musings. By the time Clara finally managed to get the computer up and running, Gabriel was halfway through planning an entire wardrobe for the hypothetical goats and her brother, even though she had no idea what Guldrin's sizes were, complete with matching boots and bow ties.

"Gabriel," Clara said, her voice strained. "Please. Just focus. For five minutes."

Gabriel blinked at her, as if just remembering why they were there. "Oh! Right! The mission! What are we looking up again?"

Clara groaned, burying her face in her hands. "How to stop a celestial disaster," she muttered. "Starting with you."

And so, the archangel and her guide were no closer to finding the ever-elusive Guldrin, but the surrounding area was a little less hungry.

All in all, a good day if Gabriel had any say in it.

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)