Crowley had insisted on wearing the tricorn around the shop all day. Aziraphael, who hadn’t quite managed to abide by his resolution to leave the trick-or-treat chocolate alone, stickily questioned him.
“’tis the season, after all.”
The angel glared at him. “That would be Christmas, my dear.”
Crowley grinned. “Maybe where you’re from.”
The light faded, and the demon still showed no inclination to leave. Instead, he watched the setting sun with something like anxiety on his face as Aziraphael lit the pumpkins. As the last rays faded, he turned to Aziraphael, eyes panicked.
“What is it?”
Even as he spoke, moonlight fell on the demon. Flesh faded, clothes and flesh hanging ragged on his bones.
Aziraphael squeaked.
Crowley looked at his fingers, speculatively.
“Interesting. Veeeeeery interesting.”
Aziraphael, after throwing a bowl of chocolate at him, decreed that in future they’d watch far more civilised fare. A beautiful mind, perhaps.
*
Based on Josie's drabble (http://www.livejournal.com/users/copinggoggles/183178.html?thread=690826#t690826). Sorry. I couldn't resist.
Aziraphale, trying hard not to look at what he was doing, tipped the contents of the box of Roses into a bowl by the front door. As he gazed forlornly at the brightly-coloured wrappers, his mind waged an internal war. Really, the chocolates were for the trick-or-treaters, said one side. Although, countered the other (the one that sounded remarkably like Crowley), one could hardly hurt, could it?
Caving with distressing speed, the angel reached out for the bowl. After a minute or two of rummaging, however, a frown creased his brow, and he poked his head back into the small living-room.
'Crowley?' The demon's head appeared, resting on one of the arms of the sofa. Aziraphale rather hoped that his feet weren't on the cushions. 'Crowley, did you eat all the strawberry creams?'
'Yep.'
'...Yep?'
'Yep.' Crowley grinned unrepentantly, his hand coming into view. One of the elusive strawberry creams was being held between two long fingers, and the demon bit into it, cracking one side open. Aziraphale watched, mouth forming a small 'o' as Crowley's tongue - oh dear - as Crowley's forked tongue darted out to lick the sweet filling from inside.
The angel was distracted from decidedly unangelic thoughts by the sound of Crowley's voice. He hadn't heard what the demon had said, but when he looked up, Crowley had stretched out his arm, fingers offering him a strawberry cream, already unwrapped. As Aziraphale moved to take it, his hand brushed the demon's. He wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing to, but he said it anyway.
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2004-11-02 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-02 08:09 pm (UTC)You know... skinny. Angular. Sharp. Knobbly elbows and hipbones that poke a bedfellow during the night.
In which Crowley gets the joke
Date: 2004-11-02 08:56 pm (UTC)“’tis the season, after all.”
The angel glared at him. “That would be Christmas, my dear.”
Crowley grinned. “Maybe where you’re from.”
The light faded, and the demon still showed no inclination to leave. Instead, he watched the setting sun with something like anxiety on his face as Aziraphael lit the pumpkins. As the last rays faded, he turned to Aziraphael, eyes panicked.
“What is it?”
Even as he spoke, moonlight fell on the demon. Flesh faded, clothes and flesh hanging ragged on his bones.
Aziraphael squeaked.
Crowley looked at his fingers, speculatively.
“Interesting. Veeeeeery interesting.”
Aziraphael, after throwing a bowl of chocolate at him, decreed that in future they’d watch far more civilised fare. A beautiful mind, perhaps.
*
Based on Josie's drabble (http://www.livejournal.com/users/copinggoggles/183178.html?thread=690826#t690826). Sorry. I couldn't resist.
Re: In which Crowley gets the joke
Date: 2004-11-02 08:59 pm (UTC)I love you.
Re: In which Crowley gets the joke
Date: 2004-11-02 09:20 pm (UTC)And I will do a proper one a bit later. I need to buy vodka in a sec...
Re: In which Crowley gets the joke
Date: 2004-11-02 09:35 pm (UTC)Caving with distressing speed, the angel reached out for the bowl. After a minute or two of rummaging, however, a frown creased his brow, and he poked his head back into the small living-room.
'Crowley?' The demon's head appeared, resting on one of the arms of the sofa. Aziraphale rather hoped that his feet weren't on the cushions. 'Crowley, did you eat all the strawberry creams?'
'Yep.'
'...Yep?'
'Yep.' Crowley grinned unrepentantly, his hand coming into view. One of the elusive strawberry creams was being held between two long fingers, and the demon bit into it, cracking one side open. Aziraphale watched, mouth forming a small 'o' as Crowley's tongue - oh dear - as Crowley's forked tongue darted out to lick the sweet filling from inside.
The angel was distracted from decidedly unangelic thoughts by the sound of Crowley's voice. He hadn't heard what the demon had said, but when he looked up, Crowley had stretched out his arm, fingers offering him a strawberry cream, already unwrapped. As Aziraphale moved to take it, his hand brushed the demon's. He wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing to, but he said it anyway.
'Yes.'
Crowley grinned.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-02 10:15 pm (UTC)