(no subject)

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: May 14, 2000
Setting: Front desk
Status: Private - Crowley, Aziraphale
Summary: Aziraphale is getting restless.






The thing was, Aziraphale was tired. He was exhausted of pushing paper and writing notes, performing only the barest miracles and human interaction at a minimum. He missed his old life (not that this one didn't have his perks) where he got to go out and have delicious food prepared by internationally famous chefs with expensive wines and Crowley's drunken company. He thought of their philosophical conversations that let him lay worries and fears out in a roundabout way, holes in his belief, and replenish that faith, and the angel realized, suddenly, how much he did miss them.

The Manor was becoming too familiar, and Aziraphale itched to leave, go out and have fun. He was finished in four minutes, exactly, and it would be easy to go and ask Crowley about the possibility of reenacting their old habits and finding new haunts. Aziraphale didn't even know the names of the pubs in Tadfield, after all. It was a tragedy.

Comments

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

While Aziraphale was engrossed in his paperwork, Crowley snuck around to his desk and perched himself seductively on one corner. He hadn't interrupted Aziraphale at work as often as he'd have liked and it reminded him of the days in the bookshop. Sitting patiently and very still, waiting for the angel to notice him and be startled, Crowley studied his face, amused by the fact that all the lines in his concentrated frown were in the same place as they always had been, despite his new appearance.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Somewhere in the distance, a pin dropped.*

Aziraphale glanced up, unsettled by the sudden but gentle silence of the lobby, and turned, catching sight of Crowley leaning against the wall in the shadows. There was an immediate flash of white teeth as Aziraphale smiled at him.

"Indulging your voyeuristic tendecies, love?" he teased gently, sparing a glance at the clock. "I'm off in, well, a minute now."


*At the hands of some poor girl, who was unfortunately far too close to a haystack.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley grinned back. "My imagination wouldn't have to work so hard if you were wearing less clothing, angel. But if you felt like giving me something to look at, I think I could spare the time..."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"It's nice to see you so enthusiastic about you taking time out of your busy schedule for poor old me," Aziraphale said dryly. "Oh, look, our witty bantering took up the last minute. Fancy," he exclaimed, innocent to the last, as he stood up with a stretch.

"Well, my dear, what shall we do tonight? The same thing we do every night? Dinner in our beloved dining room, going out, takeout... or, a favourite, I believe..." He paused for effect, allowing himself another wide smile. "...room service. What would the brooding, dark demon in the corner leering at me prefer?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Room service has its perks," replied Crowley with yes, a leer, "but I'm up for something new. Want to see if they've heard of restaurants yet in this crappy little town? Or we could drive a bit and go to Oxford or London. Does the bright and shiny angel have a preference?"

Crowley thought Aziraphale would be a lot brighter and shinier if he weren't wearing that Adam forsaken brown jumper and he wondered if he could drag him shopping the way he had John three weeks prior. Unfortunately, though, Aziraphale was a lot more used to being stubbornly resistant to his wiles than John was and getting him in anything remotely attractive looked to be an uphill battle.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Oh? You're thinking something for me and my shininess to be perfectly at home in, I suppose. I'm quite all right with staying in Tadfield, assuming we find a restaurant up to your standards of shiny. You seem quite doubtful of that." Aziraphale twinkled at him, and changed his clothing with a twist of his wrist*.

"Much better," he sighed, patting down the long and slightly overstarched kilt. "I like a nice breeze around my- oh, Crowley, I'm just joking, don't look so horrified. Here," he said, with another gesture, and found he was wearing a pale blue dress shirt and tan trousers. He still had on his favoured tweed jacket, but it was still better than his "work clothes".


*There was no need for theatrics but Aziraphale was rather fond of doing such hand-flappy things, ever since his days as a magician.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley wasn't sure which emotion to express first, utter revulsion at the kilt, puzzled amusement at the fey hand gesture, distracted lust over instances where a nice breeze would be appropriate, annoyance at the shiny references when the angel had been the one to start that dark and brooding crap, or resignation at the pedestrian outfit that Aziraphale finally decided on. As always when he was confused, he defaulted to frustrated anger and with a sharp and elegant gesture, he changed Aziraphale's clothes a third time.



"There. Now you look twenty-five instead of sixty-five. You're not fooling anyone with your clothes, you know. It just looks stupid."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale would've replied, but the new outfit was distracting. "A sweater vest?" he questioned, brow wrinkling in confusion. "I like the pattern, though altogether it's a bit flashy, I think." He fingered the nice material of the clothing. "Very well, my dear, demon's choice. Now are we ready?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley shrugged, content enough to have won the battle to be magnanimous in victory.

"I figured we could split the difference. That way you'd be comfortable enough to not change it and I wouldn't have contact embarrassment."

He changed his own clothes with a thought in order to match Aziraphale's casual look by switching his suit trousers with snug black jeans and letting his jacket hang open. Smiling smugly in the knowledge that they looked damn good*, he nodded.

"Ready when you are, angel."

And he led Aziraphale outside to where the Bentley was parked

*Apart from the angel's poofy haircut, of course, but some things were inevitable.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

The angel blushed as he glimpsed Crowley's new outfit. Those trousers were very snug, weren't they.

Aziraphale walked into the late afternoon sunshine and felt the coolness of evening in the wind, grateful for the jacket. After they'd started off, zooming towards the city (more accurately the village) of Tadfield, Aziraphale began to fiddle with the music player. "Crowley," he asked, holding up a CD to squint at the label on it, "Who is Lou Bega?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Perplexed and staring at the CD, Crowley said, "It doesn't matter. It's been in the car more than a fortnight. It'll be Queen by now." But he knew that he'd never bought a wretched Lou Bega album.

Wondering if his car was becoming sentient, he wasn't paying all that much attention to driving and he narrowly missed hitting a small, older man out walking his small, older poodle. Zooming by with inches to spare, Crowley flipped him the bird just because and swerved into Lower Tadfield's nicest restaurant, the unfortunately named Black Boy Inn.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Really, my dear," Aziraphale admonished as the poor man with his poodle was miraculously moved out of harm's way, and coincidentally inside a nearby chocolate shop, where he was the one-thousandth customer to enter the store. Immediate rewards included about a lifetime supply of chocolate, which made him suddenly popular with the ladies of Tadfield.

"Black Boy Inn?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I hope they have a decent winelist."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley smirked at Aziraphale's action. Too bad the angel didn't know that Mr. Tyler was allergic to chocolate and that his popularity with the ladies of the town would utterly dismay both him and his wife.

"I didn't name it," he said. "And it's the only place in town with any kind of winelist. Shall we?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Well, I'd be surprised if a pub in England served undercooked roast pork sauced with what was apparently salted motor oil strained through fish guts. You really should have left those boils I put on the chef."

At that moment, the waiter approached with their drinks and Crowley was silent until he'd gone. Then he lifted his glass, peering at the clarity and smelling it. He took a sip.

"Hmm. Not bad. Bit acidic, maybe." Crowley raised his glass. "To what, angel? An evening away from the Manor?"

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Indeed, to us; may no more inconvenient discorporations or work stand in the way of a night out with good wine and good food, and good company." He drank down the wine, and underneath the table ran a socked foot up the inside of Crowley's leg, face the picture of innocence when he set the glass down again.

The tablecloth was long enough for the waiter not to notice a thing.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Raising an eyebrow, Crowley brought his foot up to meet Aziraphale's under the table. He couldn't believe that anyone fell for the angel's innocent act anymore. Aziraphale was often much more of a tempting bastard than Crowley was. At least in the demon's opinion.

"Don't forget good conversation. Been a while since I've had one of those."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"So it's good for you, then?"

Poker-faced above the table, below something else was going on. Aziraphale felt the stroking cloth-touches of the foot, and caught it, patiently holding it to the floor as he brought his right foot up, using the trapped foot as a guide. He released it after the exploring one had made it past the knee, up to the thigh. The foot paused, the warmth sinking through Crowley's trousers to his skin, and then moved closer, upwards, rubbing along the inside of the demon's thigh.

The angel was watching another couple eat, smiling and laughing, and was finally looked back, surprised by Crowley's expression. His own face reflected the surprise and some mock-concern, and Aziraphale leaned over the beautifully-patterned table, foot inching closer.

"You're looking very flushed, my dear. How much wine have you had, precisely? We haven't even," he licked his lips, eyes meeting Crowley's, "eaten yet."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley flashed a faint, brittle smile in response and his gaze fell to the tabletop. He didn't react to the foot in his lap, just reached for his wine glass and, as if answering Aziraphale's question, conspicuously finished it. Blinking at the empty glass, he refilled it and drank that, too, before turning his head to watch the other couples in the restaurant.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale looked away, too, retracting his foot.

"One would think I was the demon, and you the angel sometimes, my dear," he commented softly, eyes affectionate. "More wine?"

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Snapping his head back sharply, Crowley shot Aziraphale a long, blank look. He wanted to say something about how he'd quite like to be the demon again and get in some temptation of his own; how he'd like to encounter a little resistance occasionally, have it be a bit of a bloody challenge sometimes, but he couldn't think of a way to say it without sounding petulant and needy, so he said nothing at all. He did, however, hold out his glass for a refill.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

The angel obliged, conscious of the thoughtful silence between them.

"You know, my dear," he started, casting around for a topic of conversation, "Working at the Manor is all very well and good, but..." He stopped, and Crowley looked at him, and he closed his eyes and plowed on, suddenly nervous.

"But I've been selling books for three hundred years, off and on, and it's frankly a bit odd not to be working with them. Books," he clarified. "The others try to help out - Israfel, and even John has given me a book or two. I've been thinking about it for a while, but there's no real need for it where we are now, and... well, there's not much to be done about it." He sipped his wine, suddenly and deeply embarrassed for saying it out loud.

"I do enjoy where I am now, however. And this..." The angel took a deep breath, of wine and conversation and good food, and breathed out slowly, smiling. "It's absolutely delightful." He poured himself another glass.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Canting his head slightly to one side, Crowley looked at Aziraphale.

"If you want to work with books, angel, why don't you work with books? There's a library in the Manor. I'm sure Adam would let you manage it."

He drank from his refilled glass again. "I mean, if that'd make you happy..."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"It's a library that's never had a librarian before, Crowley. If it hasn't needed one yet why would it suddenly up and need one?" Aziraphale shook his curly head. "No, as much as I'd like to work with books, I'd like it even less to be given a job there's no need for. I'm not a charity case."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"I know you're not," exclaimed Crowley, confused. "But why'd you bring books and your job up if you're not planning on changing?"

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"To see if you had any solutions. I doubted, but now you could keep your eye out if you notice anything. We're supposed to work as a sort of team, aren't we?" Aziraphale glanced at him. "Besides, working the long shifts means I haven't been around terribly often. Not quite like old days when I could open the shop when I wanted. Ah, that looks like the food's here."