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

[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.

[serpentinthegarden]

"I guess they don't really pay for sick days."

He watched as his bacon wandered away from his plate and onto his companion's. An angel taking up thieving ways... The momentary disbelief morphed into smug approval. Taking inspiration from the theft and wishing to make sure tucking wings didn't remove their usefulness, he came up with a more demonic tactic. One he was sure the angel would disapprove of.

"I could always rob a bank. They must have one some where, or a ATM machine, think they have ATM machines?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

It wasn't stealing, it was liberating to the side of good. And it was also delicious. He took a bite and then bristled even more--

"You cannot be serious. I refuse to believe it." There was tempting into bad and then--! "If you want money that badly, I'll earn it." Though Lord knew he was not looking forward to having an employer.

"Things are bad enough without you deliberately causing trouble. At least not until we're more established." Because he wasn't naive. He knew that Crowley was a demon so it was somewhat inevitable. But still.

[serpentinthegarden]

It did still work! Look at all those lovely bristles! But, as wonderfully gratifying as it was to test for all those delightful reactions he did feel it was time to let Aziraphale off the hook before the trick was uncovered. Better not to over do it.

"Oh, relax angel!"

He reached over with a fork and purloined a bit of waffle and fruit, bringing it over to the dark side by way of his lips.

"I'm only brainstorming. I haven't decided to do anything yet."

Not even evil as... if no one was around to keep tabs on him did any of that matter? What good was a demon without hell? It was a moral dilemma that he decided to avoid for the time being by having a sip of coffee to chase the waffle.

"Well, pick up a job flyer and... oh! Figured out something by playing with that mirror thingie they gave us."

Crowley reached into his pocket and flipped the device open, touching a few places here and there until what he wanted appeared on the screen and this could be shown to Aziraphale.

"It has a map built in."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He huffs, but can't completely relax. Even though he hadn't decided to do anything, there were things he could and would do and Aziraphale wasn't sure if he had the wherewithal to thwart now. Still, he could trust Crowley, he knew. Up to a point. They were here together after all, working together. He glowers as the demon purloins a bit of waffle and stabs at him with the fork playfully because he finds himself rather enjoying the kind of thing even if most of him is still tense of this whole conversation.

A sip of his latte, which is, well, not the best but not the worst either; and he relaxes a little more, wings even perking a little as he leans in to see the mirror.

"That's clever. It's rather like... what is it you call it? A black berry?" He takes the mirror and explores around the map a bit, just to feel somewhat possessive of it. "And yes to the job flyer I suppose." He sighs. "We are here to get things done after all."

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley frowned in thought and then bobbed his head, deciding black berry was as good a description for it as any. He also kept his fork carefully at the ready in case another duel broke out. The bacon would be defended!
But he remained carefully quiet about their being here to 'get things done' as that was also part of that quandary he had decided not to think about anymore today.

"Has some games too if you're completely bored."

He in the meanwhile made his way back to that biscuit having given it just enough time for the jelly and butter to sink in before sampling it. The food here was ok, better than that at the castle by leagues but not up to their usual standards... which did make him curious about that map.

"Anything interesting, little bookshops or out-of-the-way-hidden bistros?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Games. How quaint." He didn't understand the appeal of one person games, honestly. His kinds of games were generally cards or chess on some occasions. He'd even tried darts! But just mindlessly playing a game by oneself, well, what was the point?

"Mm. Nothing really. Not that I can see." Other than the library perhaps but... "I'm afraid it's rather small town." It has been a while since he'd lived in one. He preferred the more urban centers. He handed the mirror back, and in the distraction, liberated another bacon half to the side of holiness, munching on it happily.

"We'll be rather starved for culture here."

[serpentinthegarden]

The mirror was collected with an absentminded brush of fingers before his head lulled to one side, giving angel and the bacon he had stolen in the transaction an incredulous look. This didn't last overly long as he once again found himself rather impressed by the theft and dreamed up an easy solution to prevent further incursions. He turned the plate, making the sausage the nearest thing and placing more distance between angel and bacon.

"Can't have much nightlife..."

Crowley then glanced to the mirror and groaned an annoyed sound.

"Ghhrr, no clubs? Not even one? We're going to have to find something to do in the evenings or I'm going to start climbing the walls."

He slammed the mirror closed and shoved the thing back into a pocket.

"And I don't mean solitaire!"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

As if he wouldn't be just as happy with a helping of Crowley's sausage. But he lets him have his meal in peace having liberated enough for himself.

He sighs though in agreement.

"No theater. No opera. No lounges that stay open late. Just a nine to five world, apparently." Well perhaps a bit later than that, but not by much. He cuts himself another slice of waffle and eats it with a bit less enjoyment.

"I suppose we're only here to work."

As for what they could do in the evenings, he's sure he has no idea.

[serpentinthegarden]

If he were in the mood to be so bold they were unprotected but for a fork which was busy deftly making off with one of Aziraphale's peaches. There was something to this game of snatch and nibble that he found amazingly fun. A bit like that movie he couldn't quite seem to recall, with the dogs and the spaghetti... Maybe if he leaned just a little closer the ending would be the same?

"Screw that."

Which was said both in reference to what Aziraphale said and what he was daydreaming.

"If they think all I'm going to do is train and work they have a shock coming."

There always was that rebellious demon streak just below the surface with Crowley, never one to just give in and follow the rules, he just needed to find an outlet for that.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Oh! Peach thief! You realize, of course, this means war. As Crowley as bringing back a slice of peach, Aziraphale steals the very end off one of his sausages. It is delicious.

"What exactly do you plan to do for fun?" He was curious, though at the same time a bit arch about it. "There's no nightlife to speak of. No seedy little clubs you can show off at. Not even a phone line to tie up." A smirk. "Perhaps you can do a spot of Nannying to relax."

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley crinkled his nose at the removal of his sausage tip, such deft fork skills... and it crinkled further at the suggestion, Nannying.

"I could throw the brats into the lagoon if they decided to misbehave."

The purloined peach was held aloft and the syrup running across it threatening to drip off the fruit to land on the table was given a soft and deliberate lick.

"They have a train, I could tamper with the schedule."

A smirk.

"Freeze up those ticket taking stands near the entrance."

He sunk his teeth into the fruit to take a small nibble, his golden unblinking eyes watching Aziraphale as he did so.

"Put a few holes in the paddleboats. I'm sure I could find some kind of entertainment."

And while all those things would have been fun, teasing an angel was better.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Throw them in the lagoon? How very..." He trailed off at that lick, the contrast of his tongue against the soft fruit...

Hardly worth mentioning. "...nefarious of you." He continued to show that he had not at all noticed, despite not quite being able to look away. He supposed just for that he should steal the whole sausage, but he decided to be the better being and refrained.

Instead he watched him blandly, not at all moved by the display--never mind that his feathers fluffed at the nibble; it was probably hardly noticeable.

"If you get up to that much trouble it will be my duty to thwart you." A warning as he ate a bit of his own waffle off his own plate and not even going near the jam soaked biscuit.

[serpentinthegarden]

It was so hardly noticeable that Crowley was beaming over the fruit much like in those early days back in the garden, just thrilled at being able to offer such a successful temptation. While the warning was taken more like a hopeful promise. It would make them both more comfortable to get back into their familiar routine.

"If you don't thwart me there won't be anyone around who could."

Aziraphale had exclusive thwarting rights. Which he illustrated by cutting that not-at-all tempting jam slathered biscuit in half and leaving half of it a bit too near the angel's plate in a you could steal this if you really wanted to way.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Now his wings didn't have to give him away, because it was impossible not to smile at a line like that. Though he fought it mightily.

"Flatterer." He swatted Crowley's hand lightly. He was under no illusion that he actually thwarted him. Rather, Crowley allowed himself to be thwarted. Still! Even knowing that he can't help but be pleased as punch.

"That's not going to win you any points, you know." And just to show him so, filched the biscuit, which was delicious and cut a little piece of waffle near the edge of his plate toward Crowley should the demon wish to retaliate.

[serpentinthegarden]

No points? That was ok, demons didn't really go in for points. He actually thought it had earned him some points and the angel was just being coy about it. But regardless of that it had earned him a more tangible slice of waffle which he did spirit away to his own platter. This restaurant did make a mean waffle and they might as well enjoy it together.

"I've just had a thought."

Just now, as if he hadn't been thinking about it since they arrived at the restaurant or anything.

"Since we will be working together a lot more than we did on Earth we really should spend more time together. Like... dinner. You know, every night or so. Humans do it. They use the time to catch up with what everyone has been into that day. It could be... a standing date, just to go over the deeds of the day."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

It seemed like a sensible idea. Who knew, when things got into action, how often they would see one another even sharing the same space however temporarily. Sharing information was also a good idea, considering there was only two of them. It would be rather like giving reports except to someone he was looking forward to meeting.

Only-- a certain phrase stood out in his mind. Oh, he knew what Crowley had meant and he honestly shouldn't tease him about it. It wasn't fair at all.

"A... standing date?" He raised his eyebrows, unable to resist the temptation.

[serpentinthegarden]

"Y-yea..."

He hesitated as he wondered if the word had been chosen incorrectly. Maybe it had given too much away? Maybe Aziraphale would refuse on the principal that angels didn't 'date' demons, even if it was 'work' and not a 'date-date'... at least not out loud.

"That a problem?"