aj_crawley: (baby it's cold outside)
aj_crawley ([personal profile] aj_crawley) wrote2008-11-17 03:12 pm

(no subject)

The rain falls like white noise: a soft and curiously enveloping sound, like all of grey, grey London sighing hush. The headlights of cars glow like halos outside the bookshop window, and their tyres swish softly down the road, and Crowley imagines that - even inside - he can still taste the sharp, clean smell coming off the uneven Soho cobbles. Perched on the counter, he kicks his feet against the aging wood and watches the water distort the smooth black curves of the Bentley's hood.

There's a faint, restless energy about him (kick; kick), which he's trying to make go away just by thinking about it. It's not working particularly well. He hadn't slept as soundly as he might; had woken up early; had left to pack, to cover it. And now (it figures) Aziraphael is dallying. The git is probably looking for some truly horrible flip-flops, even, which is - well. Not that Crowley's driving won't get them to the airport in time anyway, and not that the plane would leave without them even if it didn't, but really. It's the principle of the thing. He's ready on time; Aziraphael might have had the decency to do the same. As far as Crowley is concerned, the only person allowed to be willfully late is Crowley.

"Come on, angel," he calls, raising his voice to carry up the rickety stairs.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-17 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"If you truly expect me to don any sort of bathing attire whilst we're away, it's going to be another thirty seconds," the angel's voice floats down.

He's holding up two truly terrible options, debating between them with more worry than is really warranted. Perhaps Crowley's case of the fidgets is contagious.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-17 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"All right," comes the voice, "I'm coming down now." He throws both options into his suitcase, slams it shut and buckles it, hauls it to the landing, goes back for his hat, can't find it in the top of the closet, digs under the bed with a determined expression, pulls it out and plops it on his head (trailing dust bunnies), and hauls the suitcase down the stairs.

"All ready!" he announces.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 12:04 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm hardly - oh," he says, as a dust bunny half-dislodges from the hat to dangle down in front of his face. He takes it off and shakes it vigorously.

"Cheer up, my dear," he says carefully, "it's your holiday. There'll be warm water and rum and... gardens and things."

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphael trails after him, glancing around the shop as he goes.

"Unplugged the lamps, turned off the outlets, closed the blinds," he's muttering. He looks wistfully at another book or two as he passes, slowing, but after a glance at Crowley he resigns himself to the ones he's already bringing with a sigh.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh," he says, blinking, "nothing, really. I'm sure I won't even get through the reading I'm bringing. The rest of them will be here when I get back."

It sounds like he's trying to convince himself - or that he's just fretting over nothing.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphael wouldn't dream of thinking that he was, in spite of copious evidence. Even the angel pulls his coat a little tighter against the chill wind and rain, filtering through the greyish mist outside. Not that the rain touches him - he's learnt at least that much respect for Crowley's car, over the years - but it certainly looks like a miserable day.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
There's nothing else for the moment, and Aziraphael glances over at him with a hint of worry in his blue eyes. He reaches over with one hand, fingers barely brushing the demon's tightly-wrapped scarf.

"All right?" he asks.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Yes," he agrees, glancing around. "And then some. It's this dratted rain; the dampness makes it worse, they say."

He's had the heat up lately, but that doesn't mean he's some sort of expert.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphael starts to wax poetic about the many beauties of snow, but thinks better of it before he speaks (for once) and instinctively grips the sides of his seat. It's probably some sort of miracle that no one was coming.

Or something.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphael's come to expect this sort of reckless insanity when Crowley's behind the wheel, but that is a far cry from being accustomed to it. He manages to keep his outbursts to relatively quiet squeaks and wordless noises of warning, but this doesn't affect the demon's driving in the slightest (except perhaps in that his foot presses a little harder on the accelerator).

Relief makes itself known in the angel by a whole-body slump when they reach the motorway.

"So," he manages on the second try. "What do you plan to do first?"

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-18 01:40 pm (UTC)(link)
"Of course, the gardens," he says, a little hesitantly. "They're said to be beautiful, even at this time of year. A little battered, of course, from hurricanes. But beautiful. And the sun will be out, of course."

He's certain that it wouldn't dare be otherwise.

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-19 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
He's not too picky about why Crowley's looking at the road, only relieved that he is, especially at this speed.

"It's possible," he says. The fingers of one hand scratch at the nails of the other. Terrible habit.

"They have to house all those orchids somewhere."

[identity profile] a-fell.livejournal.com 2008-11-19 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
"And sunshine," he says again, hopefully. "It'll be very warm. I may have to resort to sunblock or... some other disagreeable substance that smells of coconut."

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