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neutral_omens2005-12-25 11:38 pm
anthony-crowley.livejournal.com) wrote in neutral_omens2005-12-25 11:38 pm
Entry tags:
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Date: December 25, 1999
Setting: All over the place
Status: Private - complete
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go out
On Christmas morning, Crowley awoke early, dressed quickly, and stfode into Aziraphale's room. He was going through the angel's closet when Aziraphale woke up.
"...Crowley? Wha...?"
"Get up, angel. Get dressed. We're going out. You have ten minutes."
He laid an outfit on Aziraphale's bed and walked out.
Nine minutes later he returned to see that Aziraphale had climbed into his khaki pants, white button up shirt, and camel coat. Nowhere did brown, tartan, or tweed feature in the ensemble, and Crowley was pleased.
"Well, you look presentable, angel. Let's go."
They headed downstairs and noticed a small crowd in the lobby around the tree. As they neared it, Adam smiled and handed them three items each.
Sitting on a lobby couch, Aziraphale first unwrapped his mittens and socks from Raphael and started to pull them on before Crowley stopped him with a scowl. His delight at opening Michael's gift of the Rebecca's Camels Bible was a joy to behold, and he literally glowed when he caught a glimpse of Uriel's gift of the portrait of Crowley and himself together. For his part, Crowley eyed the angel speculatively when he opened his new black leather trenchcoat, wondering how he could pick out anything so tasteful and, well, cool. And Michael's gift to him, the copy of "Let There Be Lust" by Misty Moore made him laugh for quite some time. He recognized it as a peace offering and no longer having anything to hold against the archangel, accepted it. Who knew? He might even read it some day. Then he inspected the bottle he'd been given and very nearly gasped. It was a Mouton Rothschild, 1878. Wordlessly he showed the label to Aziraphale, who did gasp.
"My dear, that bottle has to be worth..."
"Ten thousand quid, at least."
"Who on Earth is it from?"
Crowley looked at the familiar handwriting on the tag, but sniffed delicately at the bottle to make sure.
"John."
The angel stared at him. "The dear boy must not have any idea."
Crowley shrugged. "We'll worry about it later. Time to go get your gift from me."
With a wave of his hand, their gifts found their way into their respective rooms and they stood up and left the Manor. Crowley fetched the Bentley, miracled it clean and happily slid into the driver's seat for the first time in months to begin the hour and a half drive to London. Being outside, away from the other inhabitants of the Manor and riding in the car next to Aziraphale made Crowley about as happy as it was possible for a demon to be and still look good.
"Where are we going?" asked Aziraphale, holding tightly to the door handle but saying nothing about Crowley's speed or narrow country lanes.
"You'll see," said the demon mysteriously. "We're going out on the town. Alone."
"Like a date?"
He turned to look at the happy angel. "Yeah, like a date."
Crowley first took Aziraphale to the British Museum. The museum had re-staged their Angels Over England exhibit* and he thought his angel would like to see it. While Aziraphale wandered around admiring the works, Crowley smirked at the poor representations of the angels he'd left behind in Tadfield. Eventually he caught sight of a black Michael trampling a blond Lucifer and burst out laughing. He had to be dragged to the gift shop by an irate angel in order to calm down long enough to leave safely.
They headed next to St. James Park to feed the few ducks that remained in the icy water. After months away, it felt good to return to even a small part of their routine. It felt like coming home and both of them smiled.
In the early evening, Crowley took Aziraphale to the Ritz for the hotel's exclusive annual Christmas dinner and dance. They ate traditional roast goose with chestnut stuffing and all the trimmings and had a beautiful Christmas pudding for dessert. It was perhaps ineffable that Aziraphale was the one to find the silver heart inside his slice. The chef was particularly surprised since when he had cooked it, it had been a silver coin. Regardless, the tradition at the Ritz stated that the finder of the coin, or possibly heart, got a free night's stay at the hotel.
Crowley just smiled and said, "We'll take it tonight," to the dumbfounded astonishment of Aziraphale. He really was adorable when he was flustered, Crowley thought, and made a mental note to do it on every possible occasion.
After dinner was the dance. Though two men, or male shaped beings, dancing together was not an issue at the Manor, out in London it certainly was. Or rather, would have been, had Crowley forgotten to make sure that the other people in the room paid them no mind. He was in no mood to deal with bigots tonight. Aziraphale's leg was considerably better these days and they moved around the floor gracefully. Or as gracefully as possible. He was still Aziraphale after all.
An hour or two later, and they were ready to retire for the evening. Crowley got the room key and they headed up to the royal suite on the top floor. Aziraphale invited Crowley in for a nightcap and together they drank the bottle of champagne that had been left for them.
"I think I'm going to turn in now, my dear. It's been a wonderful day, but quite long and I haven't been so active in a while," said Aziraphale with a yawn. "Where's your room?"
Crowley smiled disarmingly. "This is my room." And he leaned forward to kiss Aziraphale soundly. "I've been waiting to do that all day. Happy Christmas, angel."
By the muffled noises Aziraphale was making as he kissed back, Crowley figured he'd wished him a Happy Christmas, too.
After two quick trips to the bathroom, both Crowley and Aziraphale were wearing pajamas, or pajama bottoms at least, and they eagerly returned to the bed to resume their earlier kissing. Before things could become too heated, however, Crowley snuggled under the covers and simply wrapped his arms around Aziraphale. The angel sighed, slightly disappointed, but spooned up against the demon anyway and very soon they were both asleep.
*A sly Neverwhere reference and wink to the Marquis
Setting: All over the place
Status: Private - complete
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go out
On Christmas morning, Crowley awoke early, dressed quickly, and stfode into Aziraphale's room. He was going through the angel's closet when Aziraphale woke up.
"...Crowley? Wha...?"
"Get up, angel. Get dressed. We're going out. You have ten minutes."
He laid an outfit on Aziraphale's bed and walked out.
Nine minutes later he returned to see that Aziraphale had climbed into his khaki pants, white button up shirt, and camel coat. Nowhere did brown, tartan, or tweed feature in the ensemble, and Crowley was pleased.
"Well, you look presentable, angel. Let's go."
They headed downstairs and noticed a small crowd in the lobby around the tree. As they neared it, Adam smiled and handed them three items each.
Sitting on a lobby couch, Aziraphale first unwrapped his mittens and socks from Raphael and started to pull them on before Crowley stopped him with a scowl. His delight at opening Michael's gift of the Rebecca's Camels Bible was a joy to behold, and he literally glowed when he caught a glimpse of Uriel's gift of the portrait of Crowley and himself together. For his part, Crowley eyed the angel speculatively when he opened his new black leather trenchcoat, wondering how he could pick out anything so tasteful and, well, cool. And Michael's gift to him, the copy of "Let There Be Lust" by Misty Moore made him laugh for quite some time. He recognized it as a peace offering and no longer having anything to hold against the archangel, accepted it. Who knew? He might even read it some day. Then he inspected the bottle he'd been given and very nearly gasped. It was a Mouton Rothschild, 1878. Wordlessly he showed the label to Aziraphale, who did gasp.
"My dear, that bottle has to be worth..."
"Ten thousand quid, at least."
"Who on Earth is it from?"
Crowley looked at the familiar handwriting on the tag, but sniffed delicately at the bottle to make sure.
"John."
The angel stared at him. "The dear boy must not have any idea."
Crowley shrugged. "We'll worry about it later. Time to go get your gift from me."
With a wave of his hand, their gifts found their way into their respective rooms and they stood up and left the Manor. Crowley fetched the Bentley, miracled it clean and happily slid into the driver's seat for the first time in months to begin the hour and a half drive to London. Being outside, away from the other inhabitants of the Manor and riding in the car next to Aziraphale made Crowley about as happy as it was possible for a demon to be and still look good.
"Where are we going?" asked Aziraphale, holding tightly to the door handle but saying nothing about Crowley's speed or narrow country lanes.
"You'll see," said the demon mysteriously. "We're going out on the town. Alone."
"Like a date?"
He turned to look at the happy angel. "Yeah, like a date."
Crowley first took Aziraphale to the British Museum. The museum had re-staged their Angels Over England exhibit* and he thought his angel would like to see it. While Aziraphale wandered around admiring the works, Crowley smirked at the poor representations of the angels he'd left behind in Tadfield. Eventually he caught sight of a black Michael trampling a blond Lucifer and burst out laughing. He had to be dragged to the gift shop by an irate angel in order to calm down long enough to leave safely.
They headed next to St. James Park to feed the few ducks that remained in the icy water. After months away, it felt good to return to even a small part of their routine. It felt like coming home and both of them smiled.
In the early evening, Crowley took Aziraphale to the Ritz for the hotel's exclusive annual Christmas dinner and dance. They ate traditional roast goose with chestnut stuffing and all the trimmings and had a beautiful Christmas pudding for dessert. It was perhaps ineffable that Aziraphale was the one to find the silver heart inside his slice. The chef was particularly surprised since when he had cooked it, it had been a silver coin. Regardless, the tradition at the Ritz stated that the finder of the coin, or possibly heart, got a free night's stay at the hotel.
Crowley just smiled and said, "We'll take it tonight," to the dumbfounded astonishment of Aziraphale. He really was adorable when he was flustered, Crowley thought, and made a mental note to do it on every possible occasion.
After dinner was the dance. Though two men, or male shaped beings, dancing together was not an issue at the Manor, out in London it certainly was. Or rather, would have been, had Crowley forgotten to make sure that the other people in the room paid them no mind. He was in no mood to deal with bigots tonight. Aziraphale's leg was considerably better these days and they moved around the floor gracefully. Or as gracefully as possible. He was still Aziraphale after all.
An hour or two later, and they were ready to retire for the evening. Crowley got the room key and they headed up to the royal suite on the top floor. Aziraphale invited Crowley in for a nightcap and together they drank the bottle of champagne that had been left for them.
"I think I'm going to turn in now, my dear. It's been a wonderful day, but quite long and I haven't been so active in a while," said Aziraphale with a yawn. "Where's your room?"
Crowley smiled disarmingly. "This is my room." And he leaned forward to kiss Aziraphale soundly. "I've been waiting to do that all day. Happy Christmas, angel."
By the muffled noises Aziraphale was making as he kissed back, Crowley figured he'd wished him a Happy Christmas, too.
After two quick trips to the bathroom, both Crowley and Aziraphale were wearing pajamas, or pajama bottoms at least, and they eagerly returned to the bed to resume their earlier kissing. Before things could become too heated, however, Crowley snuggled under the covers and simply wrapped his arms around Aziraphale. The angel sighed, slightly disappointed, but spooned up against the demon anyway and very soon they were both asleep.
*A sly Neverwhere reference and wink to the Marquis