a little more inspiration....

[blessedarethebookmakers]

It is late afternoon on the eighteenth, and as the mirror swims to life, it focuses on Aziraphale who is standing about halfway back in the bedroom. He stands, hands tucked in front of him, smiling but looking slightly nervous, his wings arched a bit as if he wants to show them off but not be too obvious. He smiles at the...well...mirror. Fingers clenching a little bit.

When he speaks, though, his voice is low and soothing; warm like honey and pleasant. As if he's happy to see you. And in a way, he is.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you all. My name is Aziraphale and I'm an Angel. Well... Principality if you want to be precise, but that doesn't particularly matter here. First of all, I want to thank everyone who helped me out the other day and apologize for being a bit short with them. This human body is a new thing for me and I rather fear I don't have the hang of it quite yet.

But, we're all a little out of our element here, aren't we? This is a new place for us. A new experience. And a battle we must fight for the good of others who need our help. And sometimes, we can feel stuck, trapped even-- For instance, my wings are rarely displayed and not precisely corporeal when they are. If I need to remove my coat, I can do so with ease. Now, unfortunately, they are as solid as the rest of me.

And yet..." He dips his head and there is a bit of a cheeky smile. "With a little Faith." He hopes. No! Believes! "We can perform miracles."

Then he closes his eyes and focuses, concentrates, believes with everything in him that he still has the capacity for this kind of faith, this kind of miracle. That he will be able to take off his clothes with no problems at all.

All at once he can feel something catch. Something bright and cool and refreshing flow through him and around him.

Anyone looking in would be able to see a faint white gold light beginning to shimmer around him, a wind stirring the curtains and his hair. Perhaps there is a faint vibration, for the mirror slips, so only his head and shoulders are in view. The light seems to flash around him and then--!

He can feel the coolness leave him slowly, like a wave pulling from shore. With a thrilled smile he looks down and notices he did indeed manage to remove his coat as he'd hoped. Or perhaps made it disappear completely. As well as his vest, his shirt, his undershirt-- in fact the only thing left is the fob watch lying helpfully between his bare feet.

"Ah-- Ahem. Well! Slight miscalculation! But as you can see! Everything is just...just tickety...." And then the cold rushes back at once like a tsunami and for the second time in as many days, darkness crashes through him and he pitches forward and out of view.

There is a faint thud as he hits the floor.

But he'll be able to reply to any and all responses in a few hours...

...Probably.

Comments

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"It's already black as it can be, my dear. And not terribly good, I'm afraid." But, he hopes, serviceable. He pours the coffee in two mugs and then turns and stops, staring without meaning to. Crowley looks absolutely ridiculous in that. It's not so much the pink or the bizarre shortness of the garment but all of it together. He doesn't like it. It pains him almost physically to see him undone in this way--even if he doesn't seem to mind it.

Well, it just means he will have to work harder to solve the problems here and take them back to where they belonged. Crowley-- well, deserves his sleekness and his Bentley and his Earth, despite that he was a demon and there was a war on and everything. It didn't make sense and certainly no angel would agree, but it was nevertheless the truth.

He clicked his tongue and took a strong sip of his own bitter coffee because he'd forgotten he'd not added any sugar or cream yet. But the caffeine seemed to perk inside him and give him a boost.

"Honestly," he said. "Your poor wings." Moving behind him he stroked gentle fingers over the bathrobe, miracleing in place the seam which would allow Crowley to raise his wings if he wanted before sitting across from him heavily and taking another sip.

"I do wish we weren't so human."

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley didn't notice the double take that had left the angel giving him that forlorn look. If he had he likely would have given him the counter look of 'it's not possible to be a fashion darling every morning, especially when you have only one set of clothing to change into' but instead he dived straight into that coffee, pulling a bitter face at the flavor but doing nothing to correct it in the hopes that it would be powerful enough to drive away thoughts of just turning around and heading back to that wonderfully soft bed.

"You shouldn't have done that," He spoke into his coffee mug, "It will make you sleep again."

The 'thank you' came more in the form of his dark wings slipping up through those new gaps in the fabric to stretch and flare with a yawn before settling in nicely around him like a dark cloak. Up until now he had looked at Aziraphale but he hadn't really seen due the the heaviness of sleep. Now that the caffeine had begun to filter in this situation changed. He found himself admiring the one thing about this world that held any real value or interest to him. It was the one place where the angel seemed to be in a constant state of undress and this could be appreciated like a fine wine with only the barest hint of a smile giving any indication that his thoughts weren't entirely pure.

"At least the beds were soft," this spoken with a shrug as wishing they weren't so human wouldn't exactly make it so. "We could..." He said with his voice taking on a tempting tone, "Just head back to them. Forget all about this nonsense and spend the day laying around."

Not sleeping. One might have noticed any suggestion of that had been left out.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Well of course Crowley's thoughts are impure. He's a demon after all. For his own part, Aziraphale doesn't care to notice. He is fully aware of his half dressed state and is somewhat embarrassed by it as he doesn't look as put together as he ought-- but something something humility and it is entirely too early even for guilt.

"I'll be fine. Anyway I can't bear to see you walking around like an...uncomfortable sausage." Perhaps not the best metaphor but he's not exactly at his peak here. "Though I still have to do my clothing." A faint sigh, but then a somewhat indulgent smile at the demon. Somehow he likes the idea of Crowley lying in bed all day doing absolutely nothing. It seems properly indolent. Of course he should try to moralize at him, but it isn't as if there's anything that can change what he was. Which didn't seem fair really. If an Angel could Fall, why couldn't a Demon Rise?

Aziraphale put those thoughts aside for now.

"Well I certainly won't try and stop you." Another sip of the bitter coffee is a sip too much so he rises and fetches some cream and a bit of sugar. "I suppose I should go out and socialize, get the lay of the land, or we'll be here til Doomsday. Oh, which is on hold, by the way. At least according to Merlin." The cream helps, but not enough, so he puts in three sugars as well before returning to his seat.

"He says time back at home has stopped while we're here. And, well, I suppose he's an expert on such matters." And fallible human though Merlin may be, it does seem like a directive from the Almighty to focus here. She has spoken through lower vessels after all.

[serpentinthegarden]

An uncomfortable sausage! Of all the metaphors that could have been used, angel really. Crowley beamed but mercifully allowed the statement to go by without comment as he dived back into that cup of joe. The smile had been fleeting though, there only as a flash to tease an angel and gone again after the coffee had passed his lips and the topic turned back to that horrible little wizard.

"And you believe them? They are desperate people, willing to say or do anything in order to save their crummy little world."

Clearly he was of the dissenting opinion, which wasn't surprising.

"Anyway Rose says there are entire universes winking out, one star at a time. All that's just supposed to pause cause we're here? God won't talk to any of us but some how those three have a direct line to her and enough clout to get her to stop destroying the universes? I don't buy it."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He doesn't understand that smirk really but, on the same token, doesn't want to know.

Of course he was of the dissenting opinion, naturally. It seemed they were to be on opposite sides of everything. This was why he preferred his own side, because everything on the other was darkly unpleasant and made him feel just a bit hopeless.

Which only indicated a lack of Faith, for one thing. And here, Faith was Paramount. As it was back home as a matter of fact! Not that he'd expect a demon to understand. Still! His feathers bristled though he was only half aware of it.

"So what do you suggest? We stay here and be morose about the whole thing? Believe the worst of it? That we can do nothing and that it'll all wink out? That our world is going to-- to-- die without us." He swallowed thickly and put the coffee cup down rather harder than he intended.

"No, it's all part of the Great Plan. I refuse to believe that... that the Almighty would allow it! If we just-- if I just do what I must here I can return and from what I learn here I can fix there. Then I can talk to Gabriel or Michael and get it all sorted. I'm sure."

[serpentinthegarden]

He didn't like the idea anymore than Aziraphale did. He would have loved to be able to return to the Earth, deal with the Antichrist and get back to those same familiar routines they had always enjoyed... the problem was he couldn't see the way to do that. He had no plan. Crowley with a plan could be a very dangerous demon indeed but without one, things did always seem their bleakest when there was no hope to latch onto.

"We could leave, just you and me. Let these people deal with their own problems and enjoy whatever time the universe has left. We might even survive it with our actual powers back."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"No. I can't just leave." They were here for a purpose. He knew it. And for once in his existence, he was actually going to try to live up to it.

"You're more than welcome to do as you like." Also he didn't know how they would manage to return. Go through the mirror perhaps? Do some sort of spell? He obviously shouldn't think about it but now he was.

"Anyway, I don't want to just survive it, I want to stop it." Though in both cases he wasn't sure how.

[serpentinthegarden]

What he liked apparently was to sulk into his coffee. He wasn't sure how they would leave either but it stood to reason to him that if there had been a way here there must be a way back out. Maybe it was as simple as hopping back through that mirror.

"How, by joining this Kingdom's army? They are just using you, Aziraphale."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He bristles even further. They are but, well, it's an Angel's lot to be used by someone. They are here to work. Not to...to be frivolous. Perhaps if he hadn't been so than certain things might be avoided, but never mind that.

"If there is corruption and I can heal it than I will. I won't fight, but I can do that much at least. Clearly these people need someone so I will allow them to use me for the time being because if God didn't mean for this to happen it would not have happened." And that is that is that.

"Frankly, if you're so inclined to go, I'm not sure why you're still here."

He drains his coffee to emphasize the point and sets the cup in the sink, then goes to the other room to fix his clothes so he can feel like himself again. It's a test, he knows. A trial. A battle. Just like everything the Almighty has planned, it seems. Sometimes he didn't have to look too far to understand why it had been so easy to want to relax and open a bookshop.

[serpentinthegarden]

Only after Aziraphale had stormed out of the room did Crowley mock those words, softly and in a nasal voice.

"I'm not sure why you're still here..."

Then with his nose practically in his coffee mug he answered darkly and in his normal tone, "I'm not sure why I'm still here either."

Something was making it difficult to consider escaping and just leaving Aziraphale to rot here. It wouldn't be the same on Earth without him. Or anywhere! If he decided to go to some other distant world would that angel still be on his mind? Who would keep him out of trouble?

Still after those hurtful words he too considered storming out and stood with the fullest intention of doing so until... he realized a pink dressing gown wasn't really going to cut it outside. Reluctantly he found himself following the angel back to the bedroom, not to pick up the fight but because his clothes were in there too.

He didn't say a word, did't even look at the angel as he collected his things from the foot of his own bed. Crowley thought to say nothing further on the subject at all only something Aziraphale has said earlier about going out and making friends came back to him. He really did need to be warned of that.

"Be careful if you run into some one called Ace. Antichrist of his world, has a bad temper and a very large knife."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Hmm?" He had started fixing his clothes and was already fighting off the associated sleepiness, cursed Miracles, and so doesn't quite follow. Then the words catch up and he shake his head. Leave it to Crowley to immediately be involved with the Antichrist of any world.

"I've talked to him. He seems rather nice." Perhaps not mention that he asked him to look after Crowley. It seemed it didn't work out. "Anyway, he has nothing to do with us. His world's angels and assorted beings can do as they like." Though he has to hope that the Almighty doesn't intend to destroy that one either.

Why did she make so many variants? Why was she not happy with--

No, it wasn't his to reason why. Because she did. That was all. For the greater good. Somehow. He notes that Crowley is gathering his things.

"Are you going out? See if you can pick up a map or something, if you would. I think I am going to make another cup of coffee after I finish this, and try and figure out what on Earth I can do for some sort of breakfast because mortality will be more troublesome." His stomach is grumbling and he is tired and a bit grumpy but he can't let Crowley leave without tempting him, just a little, to come back.

He was still welcome here after all.

If he wanted.

Even if present company wasn't... well... the best.

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley huffed a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, real peach of a guy..."

It didn't matter did it? That he had been practically chased out of his old room by the psycho? Aziraphale had gotten the cute overly chatty blonde and he had gotten pirate version Norman Bates.

"Seems the thing to do really, go out."

How else would he meet the locals, make friends, get a job and all of that super sparkly fun human stuff? Besides... apparently he needed a map.

The dressing ritual of a posh demon wasn't so different than a angel. He smoothed his clothing out before slipping off the short pink robe and pulling on his pair of tight fitting jeans. Undershirt went under the shirt were it belonged and the shirt went over that. Belt snitched in around his waist and the tie was loosely fastened around his neck. It was as he was sitting there pulling on his snakeskin shoes that a more appealing idea than just wandering around town came to mind.

"That Cafe, oh what's it called... Daffodil, Lilac... Anyway, it's supposed to hand out free breakfast and lunch to Apprentices. We could see what it's like?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

The bitter sarcasm did not escape him. He would have figured Crowley was used to that sort of human by now, but then sometimes on very rare occasions; Aziraphale was almost convinced that Crowley was stung more deeply than he let on.

He looked away as Crowley got dressed, busying himself with his own clothes and deciding to not fix the coat right now as the last thing he wanted was to spend the morning and who knew how much longer abed. He expected Crowley to leave, but looked back when he spoke and was struck by a moment by how he looked-- just as normal. Wonderful in black. Was that horrible to think? Well, he thought it. There was something dynamic about it. Striking. He looked so alive in that moment that Aziraphale wished this were a happier circumstance; that they were just going out to lunch as they had many times before.

Only he couldn't help but feel the happier times were behind them now and ahead... well... trial.

Still, breakfast came first.

"That sounds marvelous." He stood, stretching his wings and arms a moment to the warm sunlight and then caught himself wanting to loop his arm around Crowley's. Instead he gestured toward the door. "After you."

[serpentinthegarden]

That was a familiar movement, the angel stepping forward before pulling back and allowing him to take the lead through. He did so without protest, leading the way out of the room and down into the heart of main street.

As it turned out the business was called the Carnation Cafe not any of the other flowers Crowley had mentioned but it was quite firmly American. Classic rod iron style chairs sat around white and red square tables. The menus were full of such delights as chicken and waffles and chili which Crowley as least opted out of. No chili for breakfast thanks.

"The All-American breakfast?"

He raised an eyebrow at the angel.

"They do at least have coffee."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Probably have something to do with semi-automatics, I expect." He was glad he wasn't a Principality over there. Though he honestly wasn't sure why Crowley hadn't since moved since America did seem like a place where a demon could literally do nothing and still get credit.

"I'll have the red, white and waffle, thank you. With the peach preserves. And a cafe latte. And a water." This to the waitress who seems a bit taken aback by the order but nevertheless scribbles on her notepad. When she is gone, he turns back to Crowley. It is really very sad in a way. Here he was, meant to inspire and-- well they had fought.

They were making up now, of course. That was their way. Grumble and then lunch. Though nothing was ever resolved per se. Just left to sit here. But here was different. Here they were supposed to look out for one another, weren't they? He had been doing a fairly poor job of it, clothes aside.

"Listen..." He reached across the table and touched...well the space near his arm. Close enough so he could feel the heat of his skin through his clothes. "Let's not argue the whys and maybes and so on. It could be you're absolutely right and we're all doomed but-- but... but I-- I can't believe that because you're so very clever. And I know you'll find just the right thing to say or do, just as always. Here or there or anywhere. There isn't a situation made that you can't seem to turn to your own advantage."

However sinful that might be.


"So, please..." He trailed off because he didn't know what to add in there. Be happy? Have faith? In yourself? In us? No...

"Forgive me for being-- awkward about the whole situation." Because he hoped that at least will smooth things down the road. Though he felt a bit like he was talking to the upper management at the moment, always coming up short. Always coming up silly and foolish and just an out of shape Principality who no one blamed for losing the Garden so very easily.

No really.

He knew what they thought and didn't care. But he does care about Crowley thinking him an idiot, even if he felt like one.

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley's eyes drifted down to that hand, so close and yet always with that small distance between them. Then he glanced away watching the other people in the restaurant mill around, eating their meals, chatting, one of them nearly spilled their food. It appeared he wasn't paying the conversation any mind at all when actually he was listening with rapt attention to every word.

He didn't speak right away and he certainly didn't trust himself to look back in the angel's direction, so he did the next best thing, sprawling leisurely across his seat so that distance between their chairs ended up smaller.

"It's an awkward situation, angels and demons getting kidnapped... I can't remember that ever happening before."

Which was the closet he intended to get to apologizing himself or accepting the one Aziraphale had offered. It wasn't necessary. He supposed he had been rather gloomy and maybe he had deserved the tongue lashing over it. As Aziraphale had said it was awkward and he could have found a better way to handle the situation... maybe. Everything just felt so out of their hands right now. It made him want to snap at things.

But if Aziraphale really felt that way, that he could turn any situation to his advantage, maybe he should give it another look.

"Focus on the prize?"

He rolled his head around to gaze unblinkingly at Aziraphale.

"We do agree on that, we'd rather not see the universe destroyed."

His expression altered, giving just a hint of a smile.

"Pretend the last few days never happened, focus on that?"

He could believe in that unspoken 'us' that always seemed to hang in the space that existed between them and he could find inspiration in a silly and foolish angel even if Aziraphale himself was having difficulty finding value in his contributions.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He enjoys the spreading out, more than he can say. It feels easy. Comfortable. Familiar. He tries not to smile directly at him and sits back to accept his water with thanks. He shifts a little himself so that the edge of his shoe brushes casually against Crowley's. Just a small touch. Not completely unusual for them. It's good to feel connected even in a small way. It's good to feel not quite so alone. o matter how much they argue or...how much they might be torn apart as well they should be.

...Shouldn't they?

Well, it doesn't matter. At least not right now. What matters right now is them in this place and figuring things out-- helping where they can-- surviving how they can. Together.

That word makes him feel dangerously warm and he tells himself firmly that it cannot last so not to let himself get used to it. But for now, he can at least indulge, can't he? Just to make things that much easier.

"Of course, my dear. A fresh start is just what we need here. I'm feeling much better, which helps vastly. And you know! It's not all bad. We don't have to worry about anyone looking too closely over our shoulders." Which didn't mean they could be sloppy because the Almighty was always there. But-- well-- perhaps Gabriel and Michael and Uriel weren't.

[serpentinthegarden]

"When the cats away..."

Crowley began the familiar old saying about cats and the mice that partied when they weren't at home, implication being they could get into so much trouble now that there was no one watching. God wouldn't care. She hadn't bothered to smite anyone in centuries and without Hastur, Ligur or even Lord Beelzebub breathing down his neck they did have... total freedom. Thinking about it that way the possibilities were endless. It sort of set one's imagination reeling.

He boldly smiled and reached out not with a toe to brush against a shoe but with a few fingers to brush across a hand.

"Pass the sugar?"

And with a cover story in place as he gestured with the same hand that had accidentally touched the angel's to the sugar sitting on the table on the other side of Aziraphale which he had just now decided to add to his coffee.

"I feel like indulging."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Yes..." He smiles, filling in the rest of that mentally. It might actually be rather fun. Oh, he is still going to be on guard, and if he gets a memo or, Almighty help him, a visit, he can just say he was trying to fit in. After all, it wasn't as if he was given particular orders was he? And it was very difficult just to guess.

So all he had to say was--

Oh!

The unexpected touch, brief as it was, has his wings twitching a little in pleasant surprise. It wasn't as if they didn't touch and it was probably somewhat accidental so his heart could stop that nonsense right now.

"Of course, my dear." He passes the sugar, giving him an answering brush. There was something entirely too enticing at Crowley indulging, but he pretended not to notice. Instead he added chipperly: "That's the spirit!"

[serpentinthegarden]

There was something far too tempting in the alluring fluttering of those wings. Was that a tell?! Nah, couldn't be!

...Could it?

Crowley's smirk grew more confident as he dropped a few of the requested sugar cubes into his cup and settled his mind to watching to see if those wings were betraying their owner as he found himself irrationally wishing for.

Things were looking more promising. It was just like that song, really, the sun will come up and all tomorrow...

So long as the world didn't end.

"Heads up angel."

He gestured with a head bob to the waitress coming with their overly large American sized breakfasts, three kinds of meat for Crowley and a mound of peaches nearly as deep as the coffee mug for Aziraphale.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Hm?" He was watching Crowley stir in the sugar with perhaps too much interest. He glances over at Crowley's gesture and his wings droop a little.

"Oh dear. I suppose we'll have leftovers." He generally doesn't care for those. Well, he really has no where to put them and fresh food is the best. Still! He will just have to remember that food in America is generally enough to feed three or four. Goodness.

"You might have to roll me out the door. Thank you." This to the waitress. he does pour syrup over his waffles which are decorated with raspberries and blueberries and look simply scrummy.

The latte also looks good.

"I have to say, I am almost looking forward to this part. It won't be as good as the bouillabaisse, but we can't always hope for a miracle, can we?"

[serpentinthegarden]

"You're the angel, you tell me. Miracles are your department."

The platters of food were laid out before them and Crowley found himself picking at a slab of bacon with his fork, just playing with the thing while he pretended not to be watching the angel. If those wings were a tell then, oh let's make a game of it and guess... they were going to fluff. With a waffle as good looking as that they were almost duty bound to fluff!

"Anyway there's no rule that says we have to eat everything... or even take it with us. We can just enjoy what we want and leave the rest behind."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Mm. I suppose we'll take what we can get." Things don't feel very miraculous here. Just that they are a lot of hard work. He cuts delicately into the waffle, making sure to get a bit of everything in a single slice, and clicks his tongue at Crowley.

"We can't just waste food, Crowley. Well, I can't." He slides the demon a look. "And don't tell me that's all you're eating."

He eats his cut of waffle, mindful of the dripping syrup and:

"Mmmm." Feathers fluff in appreciation. "Not as bad as I thought! Though they do say that hunger is the best ingredient."

[serpentinthegarden]

He could, he could totally waste food, but he hadn't yet and he made a exasperated 'what' gesture with both hands over his plate.

"I haven't even started."

This didn't last for even a moment before the wings fluffed and he laughed, just a quick bark of a 'ha' before he tucked into that bacon he had been toying with.

Now ideally he should let Aziraphale know what the joke was, as it would have been the right thing to do... But, that was such an advantage! Imagine all the hidden little secrets he might be able to learn about from those built in lie detectors! He wasn't going to say a word.

"That is a weird thing, hunger. I don't know how humans put up with it."

He took a nip from a biscuit before adding a line of jelly to it. Grape, sounded fruity and fun even if it did come in one of those little plastic takeout containers with the pull tab.

"And jobs? Being at the same place at the same time everyday? Going to need to take a lot of sick days..."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"What?" He bristled a little at that laugh. He didn't find anything funny. And surely it wasn't whatever Crowley found funny so he'd like to know so he could disapprove of it. Though perhaps it was fine. He humphed and tucked his wings close at his back as best he could over the chair back.

"It is, isn't it? And starvation is not a pretty thing." He's seen to far too much of it. Though less these days, thank Heaven. "And work." He rolls his eyes. "I can't even imagine! I mean there's the bookshop, of course, but I can close up whenever I wish and go to Majorca or Paris. Not that those are exactly options here. And of course you can use up sick days, my dear, but if money is your aim, it's rather counter-intuitive don't you think?"

He will then proceed to nick a slice of bacon from the other's plate.