[ It had been quite some time since Aziraphale felt as though he had the chance to sit down and simply exist without worrying about something or another - it seemed that having a hand in stopping the End of Everything really did tire a man out, even if that person wasn't exactly a man. Indeed, it was almost a relief to settle down with a cup of tea and consider what he might want to do with the time stretching out in front of him, even as a quiet voice in the back of his mind told him that things probably weren't going to be any different to how they were before.
(The voice sounded suspiciously familiar).
There was nothing for it, really. He'd simply have to get on with - with something. Anything to get away from all the thoughts in his head about ineffability and shoulds and should nots and all the things that had been swirling around inside of him for such a long time. It was true that he was not an angel easily distracted (there were mouldy cups of tea around his little kitchen that told a few tales about that) but he was determined to do his best, and that would have to be enough.
Of course, almost as though he could read his mind, that was when a certain demon walked in and ruined the determination Aziraphale had to do something, even if he hadn't the faintest idea what that something ought to be. Perhaps Crowley would count as distraction enough, and that settled his thoughts as he pushed himself up to go and greet the other - person. Man. ]
[If there was one thing Crowley prided himself on being, it was distracting. It was a hard earned skill, as far as he was concerned. Probably had some place in promoting the Sins somewhere.
He'd spent the first while after the apocalypse that wasn't sleeping. Or rather, he'd tried to sleep. Every time he thought he was drifting off he just found himself getting up and staring at the goopy mess that used to be Ligur on his office carpet. He should probably get that cleaned.
Or maybe get a whole new flat. That might be better.
He gives a lazy half-wave, moving in to sit on the chair he usually claimed as his, propping his feet up on the table. He did it mostly because it would annoy the angel, but also because that kind of thing looked cool.]
[ You know how it is; he certainly does. Crowley's idea of 'having a wander' often translated to 'checking in on the angel and seeing how to bother him that day'... But for the first time in quite a handful of years Aziraphale couldn't muster any kind of irritation or frustration with how casual he was. Their Arrangement went back so long and had been so up and down over the centuries, but it was evident to him - without too much consideration - that he actually really, truly enjoyed Crowley's company.
They had said something of the sort, hadn't they? When they were stopping the whole thing from happening and getting themselves into all kinds of trouble while doing it. In fact, Aziraphale might go as far as to say that he had quite a fond spot for the demon somewhere in his heart, though he would never say it aloud. No reason to give him any more reason to be a pain, after all, he'd had enough of that for a dozen lifetimes.
It doesn't stop him smiling, even as he walks over and swats at Crowley's feet with practised familiarity, nudging them down and off the table with a small frown. He did it, every single time, almost as if he wanted Aziraphale to scold him as soon as he stepped through the door. ]
Stop making a mess of my lounge, please, my dear, while I make the tea.
[ A pause, and then - ]
Or something else, if you'd prefer, I think I have something from a few decades ago somewhere...
[The demon lets his feet drop to the ground with an equally well practised sigh. A sign of the long suffering he has to deal with, just by being in the angels general vicinity. No one has it worse than Anthony Crowley. That's an undeniable fact. ]
I think I'll always take something strong than tea.
[He considers, then his smirk grows. It's been a stressful few...years and if there;s one thing that perks him up, it's purposefully finding ways to ruffle Azriaphale's feathers. Both the metaphorical and the literal ones. ]
Unless you have coffee. Like a real, big cup of Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato.
[He has no idea what that actually is. He heard someone order one in Starbucks once. It sounded sufficiently annoying, so he deigned to memorise it for this exact occasion. ]
[ Sometimes he wonders if Crowley's number one mission in life was to go out of his way to be a complete irritant - and sometimes Aziraphale truly didn't mind. There were times where he wanted nothing more than to have the other man's company and it was more than enough. Other times... Other times he simply wanted to kick him out and do the unkind thing of ignoring him for a week. ]
I should stop offering, I suppose.
[ But he can see the smirk grow and the dread curls inside of him until his eyes are narrowing and all he can do is stare at Crowley, completely frustrated by the other man. ]
I - I cannot believe you even said something like that.
[Annoying the angel is something of a sport to him. Finding new ways to peeve him off. He's sure Aziraphale would never actually kick him out or even manage to pointedly ignore him for longer than maybe a decade, tops. ]
You should, but you won't.
[He sits back, smug. Job done. ]
You don't need to be so sensitive, angel. It's all the rage these days.
[ He should be used to it, really, considering how long he and Crowley have been around one another. There's a nudge of tension and awkwardness that settles around his shoulders, but all the same - he shakes his head, scoffing a little. ]
It's politeness, my dear, and that should never be forgotten.
[ He thinks he ought to ignore Crowley, really, but he cannot help himself. ]
I have never cared for whatever the 'rage' is. You know that.
[What point is he even arguing any more, he doesn't know. He'll just move on to the other topic, because it's more fun. Did Aziraphale say he didn't want to know? Too bad, he's gonna. The demon marches forward with clear glee.]
Okay! So they take fruit tea, right? And they put it in these little chewy balls, and you suck it through a straw. It's very hip.
[ Oh, Lor- Someone. His eyes flick over Crowley and his face before he huffs a noise, something frustrated settled over him before he scoffs and tries to make himself comfortable again. ]
I suppose this is the reason you're here? To make me suffer?
I suppose it's acceptable to lie when you're a demon.
[ But he says it with a kind of fondness that comes from being around the other man for a very, very long time. It's probably a bad thing but, really, he can't do much to fight it anymore. ]
Please, in future, keep that sort of information to yourself.
I don't think either of us are in the mood for a detailed list of your traits, admirable or not, Crowley.
[ Mostly because it would embarrass them both something ridiculous and neither of them are here for that right now, thank you very much. All the same, he pushes himself up with a soft noise. ]
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ventito2015-02-18 01:07 am
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(The voice sounded suspiciously familiar).
There was nothing for it, really. He'd simply have to get on with - with something. Anything to get away from all the thoughts in his head about ineffability and shoulds and should nots and all the things that had been swirling around inside of him for such a long time. It was true that he was not an angel easily distracted (there were mouldy cups of tea around his little kitchen that told a few tales about that) but he was determined to do his best, and that would have to be enough.
Of course, almost as though he could read his mind, that was when a certain demon walked in and ruined the determination Aziraphale had to do something, even if he hadn't the faintest idea what that something ought to be. Perhaps Crowley would count as distraction enough, and that settled his thoughts as he pushed himself up to go and greet the other - person. Man. ]
I hadn't expected to see you for a little while.
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He'd spent the first while after the apocalypse that wasn't sleeping. Or rather, he'd tried to sleep. Every time he thought he was drifting off he just found himself getting up and staring at the goopy mess that used to be Ligur on his office carpet. He should probably get that cleaned.
Or maybe get a whole new flat. That might be better.
He gives a lazy half-wave, moving in to sit on the chair he usually claimed as his, propping his feet up on the table. He did it mostly because it would annoy the angel, but also because that kind of thing looked cool.]
Decided to have a wander. You know how it is.
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They had said something of the sort, hadn't they? When they were stopping the whole thing from happening and getting themselves into all kinds of trouble while doing it. In fact, Aziraphale might go as far as to say that he had quite a fond spot for the demon somewhere in his heart, though he would never say it aloud. No reason to give him any more reason to be a pain, after all, he'd had enough of that for a dozen lifetimes.
It doesn't stop him smiling, even as he walks over and swats at Crowley's feet with practised familiarity, nudging them down and off the table with a small frown. He did it, every single time, almost as if he wanted Aziraphale to scold him as soon as he stepped through the door. ]
Stop making a mess of my lounge, please, my dear, while I make the tea.
[ A pause, and then - ]
Or something else, if you'd prefer, I think I have something from a few decades ago somewhere...
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I think I'll always take something strong than tea.
[He considers, then his smirk grows. It's been a stressful few...years and if there;s one thing that perks him up, it's purposefully finding ways to ruffle Azriaphale's feathers. Both the metaphorical and the literal ones. ]
Unless you have coffee. Like a real, big cup of Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato.
[He has no idea what that actually is. He heard someone order one in Starbucks once. It sounded sufficiently annoying, so he deigned to memorise it for this exact occasion. ]
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I should stop offering, I suppose.
[ But he can see the smirk grow and the dread curls inside of him until his eyes are narrowing and all he can do is stare at Crowley, completely frustrated by the other man. ]
I - I cannot believe you even said something like that.
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You should, but you won't.
[He sits back, smug. Job done. ]
You don't need to be so sensitive, angel. It's all the rage these days.
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It's politeness, my dear, and that should never be forgotten.
[ He thinks he ought to ignore Crowley, really, but he cannot help himself. ]
I have never cared for whatever the 'rage' is. You know that.
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[He examines his fingernails with a put-upon sigh. ]
I have noticed. You know, you'd blend in with the humans much better if you tried something that got introduced before the forties.
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[ He gathers their things and moves to settle down again, frustrated but doing his very best not to let on. ]
I don't see any reason why anyone would want to try something that sounds so utterly ridiculous. What's wrong with a simple cup of tea?
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Because tea can be boring. You know something that's really up and coming? Bubble tea. It's technically still tea, too.
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[ Because how could anyone being polite be at all irritating? He can't even imagine it. ]
... I am quite sure I don't even want to know what bubble tea is.
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[What point is he even arguing any more, he doesn't know. He'll just move on to the other topic, because it's more fun. Did Aziraphale say he didn't want to know? Too bad, he's gonna. The demon marches forward with clear glee.]
Okay! So they take fruit tea, right? And they put it in these little chewy balls, and you suck it through a straw. It's very hip.
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[ Oh, Lor- Someone. His eyes flick over Crowley and his face before he huffs a noise, something frustrated settled over him before he scoffs and tries to make himself comfortable again. ]
I suppose this is the reason you're here? To make me suffer?
[ But he's teasing. ]
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[That's bullshit. He hasn't actually kept up his demonic duties with Aziraphale for centuries.]
And anyway, I came to keep you informed of the current fancy tea situation.
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[ But he says it with a kind of fondness that comes from being around the other man for a very, very long time. It's probably a bad thing but, really, he can't do much to fight it anymore. ]
Please, in future, keep that sort of information to yourself.
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[Not that he's very good at it, mind. He sniffs haughtily, examining his fingernails.]
I can't make any promises. It might just slip out some time.
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Not exactly my forte, my dear.
[ All the same... There's a touch of fondness that overcomes him as he watches the other man. ]
I'm sure you will do admirably.
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[He gets up in a swift movement, clapping his hands together.]
So. Are we doing the Ritz?
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[ Mostly because it would embarrass them both something ridiculous and neither of them are here for that right now, thank you very much. All the same, he pushes himself up with a soft noise. ]
I assume we'll have a table?
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[He scoffs lightly, flashing Aziraphale a sharp-toothed grin. As if they never have a table.]
Naturally.
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[ And, of course, when it would be most irritating. All the same - ]
We should get on, then. I'll collect my coat.
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[The demon moves to head to the door, rolling his eyes goodnaturedly behind his sunglasses. ]
I will never understand why you don't just make one appear. It's so much easier.