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Apr. 7th, 2006 06:47 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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neutral_omensDate: March 10, 2000, Morning
Setting: Crowley's Room
Status: Private (Ellie and Crowley)
Summary: Ellie visits Crowley the day after Aziraphale's discorporation.
Though she was reluctant to intrude on Crowley's grief following Aziraphale's accident, Ellie was more than slightly worried about him. She remembered only too well the crippling grief that came with such a loss, and even if Aziraphale was only gone temporarily, that was going to be cold comfort for Crowley at the moment. John's abrupt and unexplained departure couldn't be helping much, either, and she wanted some answers about that as well.
So early the next morning found her standing at his door, braced for any number of unpleasant moods she might find him in, debating whether to knock and risk being turned away unheard or simply barge in and make him deal with her whether he wanted to or not. In the end practicality triumphed over discretion, and she jimmied the lock with a thought and slipped silently into the dramatically-decorated room, its vibrant reds now somewhat muted by curtains drawn shut against the dim morning light.
Crowley was sprawled on his belly across the big double bed, dead asleep, both hands clenched in the luxurious bedclothes and looking for all the world like an exhausted child who'd run out of steam in the middle of a tantrum. A naked exhausted child. If children having tantrums left empty wine bottles scattered all over the room. Well, something like that, anyway.
Ellie regarded him sadly for a moment, and then sighed and set to work. First she brought into being on the bedside table a tray loaded with every kind of comfort food she could think of, from triple chocolate ice cream to grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, adding a few favorite hangover remedies for good measure (because really, who wanted to try and concentrate on banishing a headache when they had a headache?) The only thing conspicuously missing was a teapot, replaced instead with a carafe of strong coffee. Then she went to the window and drew back one of the curtains, allowing light to spill into the room (but indirectly, not right across the bed.)
Then she went back to the bed and summoned up a light blanket, letting it settle gently over Crowley so he wouldn't be entirely deprived of his dignity, and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, resting one hand lightly on his bare shoulder. "Crowley? Crowley, sweetheart, it's time to wake up."
Setting: Crowley's Room
Status: Private (Ellie and Crowley)
Summary: Ellie visits Crowley the day after Aziraphale's discorporation.
Though she was reluctant to intrude on Crowley's grief following Aziraphale's accident, Ellie was more than slightly worried about him. She remembered only too well the crippling grief that came with such a loss, and even if Aziraphale was only gone temporarily, that was going to be cold comfort for Crowley at the moment. John's abrupt and unexplained departure couldn't be helping much, either, and she wanted some answers about that as well.
So early the next morning found her standing at his door, braced for any number of unpleasant moods she might find him in, debating whether to knock and risk being turned away unheard or simply barge in and make him deal with her whether he wanted to or not. In the end practicality triumphed over discretion, and she jimmied the lock with a thought and slipped silently into the dramatically-decorated room, its vibrant reds now somewhat muted by curtains drawn shut against the dim morning light.
Crowley was sprawled on his belly across the big double bed, dead asleep, both hands clenched in the luxurious bedclothes and looking for all the world like an exhausted child who'd run out of steam in the middle of a tantrum. A naked exhausted child. If children having tantrums left empty wine bottles scattered all over the room. Well, something like that, anyway.
Ellie regarded him sadly for a moment, and then sighed and set to work. First she brought into being on the bedside table a tray loaded with every kind of comfort food she could think of, from triple chocolate ice cream to grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, adding a few favorite hangover remedies for good measure (because really, who wanted to try and concentrate on banishing a headache when they had a headache?) The only thing conspicuously missing was a teapot, replaced instead with a carafe of strong coffee. Then she went to the window and drew back one of the curtains, allowing light to spill into the room (but indirectly, not right across the bed.)
Then she went back to the bed and summoned up a light blanket, letting it settle gently over Crowley so he wouldn't be entirely deprived of his dignity, and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, resting one hand lightly on his bare shoulder. "Crowley? Crowley, sweetheart, it's time to wake up."
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