(no subject)

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: October 31st, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Ballroom
Status: Public
Summary: Hallowe'en party. Costumes enforced.




"You really should have brought one," Aziraphale said admonishingly as he led Gabriel down the stairs towards the decorated lobby. "And watch that stair."

Earlier, while Aziraphale was still readying the final touches on his own costume (Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective, from one of his favourite novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It was rather a lot of tweed), Gabriel had arrived.

Without a costume.

It was a good thing Crowley had left by this time, with only a mysterious comment about meeting the angel at the party later. Aziraphale suspected he hadn't bothered with a costume yet, and was hoping Adam wouldn't catch him.

After a few fussing moments, in which Gabriel maintained that he didn't really need a costume, as he could just take out his wings and leave it at that, and Aziraphale fussing and fretting, there was a Silence.

And then a Pop!

They both blinked at each other. Aziraphale's costume hadn't changed, but the other angel...

Gabriel was wearing a French maid outfit. One that was, as Aziraphale pointed out, eyes wide, far too short and really, were heels necessary? Then Gabriel yelped as he noticed his change in undergarments and they heard mild profanity as someone down the hall noticed the abrupt change, but Aziraphale was far too distracted calming the angel down to notice whom it could be.

It was quick to fix up Gabriel's new makeup - Adam couldn't quite manage to get the mascara on perfectly yet, and there were a few streaks as if someone mostly inexperienced had tried to do it.

"I did warn you," Aziraphale said again as they carefully navigated the next and last set of stairs, Gabriel's fingers clamped tightly on his arm.

"I didn't think I'd be forced into an apron," Gabriel said tightly.

"Well..." They entered the ballroom, and Aziraphale led Gabriel over to the nearest table. He said, "Ladies first," before he could stop himself, offering Gabriel a chair politely.

The other angel glared, a blush painting his cheeks quite fetchingly, and refused it, smoothing down the skirt. "How would I..."

"That is a very short dress, my dear," the angel said, and adjusted his pipe.

"I wonder where everyone else is."

Comments

[corroded-crown.livejournal.com]

Pollution laughed at the sound. It was so strange and out of place comming from Famine. It was nice though. One of those things that would have made a human's heart warm had that human been Pollution. "Of course it is," Pollution told him, not minding the language at all. "I made it, after all."

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine grinned at his companion, he'd always liked the sound of Pollution's laugh, as rare as it was. After a moment he looked down at his glass ruefully. "I think...I've had enough of this." He grinned again and held the glass out for Pollution to take, his hand knocking against the other horseman's as he raised it.

[corroded-crown.livejournal.com]

Pollution's fingers tangled in Famine's when he reached for the glass and it fell to the ground, shattering with a delightful crash. Blinking, and not bothering to untangle his fingers, Pollution glanced down at the mess and smiled a sort of fuzzy smile, as if he weren't fully there. "That's nice.."

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine's fingers automatically tightened around Pollutions, and he barely noticed the crash of the falling glass. "Yes." He squeezed Pollution's hand lightly and unconciously. "It is." He wasn't looking at the shattered glass.

[corroded-crown.livejournal.com]

Pollution blinked. Dispite the buzz of alchohol and probably drugs, he still had the frame of mind to realize that Famine didn't usually admire his work like he himself did. The squeeze grip on his hand sent the message home that Famine wasn't talking about the mess. Pollution looked up into Famine's eyes and his breath caught in his throught, though he couldn't be sure why. This had never happened before.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine stopped breathing when Pollution looked into his eyes and he shifted a little closer. A little voice in the back of his head screamed at him to step back, maybe this wasn't the best idea in the world, but it was burried beneath the alcohol and drugs and easily dismissed. He was swaying slightly on his feet from the intoxication, bringing him just close enough to feel Pollution's breath against his lips. A piece of his scattered wits noticed that Pollution smelled like cigarettes and factory smoke.