faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

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From:

salutosinedelectat

It's not that Aziraphale is too late, but he's not early, either. No, he took his time, dedicating some of it to fussing merrily, to preening, for all that he looks practically the same. Perhaps a slight difference to his blonde curls, while all the rest just seems to be about the same level of care as he always gives, despite his rather worn clothes.

There's an air of gentle giddiness to him. All too personal, almost certainly entirely unnoticed by every person he walks by, but it's there, in him, and he doesn't even notice the curl to the corner of his lips as he goes along.

He spots the lanky demon, the usual spot, permanently marked by that one evening not that long ago.

"Hullo, my dear." All polite cheerfulness. "Were you waiting long?"

From:

duckshaveears

Aziraphale, in contrast, quite often looks happy, and most particularly when he's one his way to a good meal. But there's no question that he's almost radiant today, at least to Crowley's eyes.

To himself, Crowley will admit he's a little biased.

He gives his smile-smirk, unfolding himself from his slouch as Aziraphale approaches. 'Lo, angel. Just about long enough, I'd say, though I don't mind waiting. Good things come to those and all that." And so they have, clearly. Crowley gestures towards the door, a silent, after you.

From:

salutosinedelectat

"Indeed they do." And he coyly flashes him a bright smile, hands folded neatly in front of him.

A polite thank you, and he steps along inside.

Does he often look happy? He can't really tell. But the truth is that there's happiness to be gathered from most things. Good meals, yes. Music, of course. Places where people gather. Dancing. Flowers. Conversations. Just the right shade of color. Yes, there's happiness to gather from most things, and he's lucky enough to have many things to pick happiness from. Although there's one that leaves them all in the dust.

A smile and a nod at a waiter who goes past.

From:

duckshaveears

Crowley's lost track of how many meals they've shared over the years by now. The Ritz alone has seen a dozen at least, enough that this should be casual, just another thing.

It's not. They never are, really, at least not to Crowley, but this one definitely feels different. But not tense. That's the odd thing. He would've expected to be nervous, if he'd thought about it, given that this meeting feels more laden with potential than they usually do in light of that conversation earlier. But he isn't. Just happy.

The pianist is playing something he can't quite remember, s'on the tip of his tongue, he'll figure it out in a minute, but first he hops forward and actually holds Aziraphale's seat for him while the angel sits. Why not? Just because he's a demon doesn't mean he can't be a gentleman. Sometimes. After all, there's such a thing as style.

And then he takes his own seat, picks up the wine list and scans it as though they don't have the thing more than half memorized. "What's your fancy? Red or white?"

From:

salutosinedelectat

There's not a lot he wouldn't give to simply just see Crowley looking genuinely happy. He's thankful that he can share in that moment, to see something so pure. It's charming. It's wonderful.

And so is such a kind, little gesture as as Crowley holding out his chair. Oh, gosh, does that send the angel's heart aflutter, and he flashes the demon a coy but bright eyed smile.

Aziraphale sits, adjusts by idly wiggling his shoulders as always, still too straight, picking up the menu. Just as unnecessary an action. "Hm, I do believe it's a good evening for red."

From:

duckshaveears

Aziraphale's coy smile is met with a blatant yeah, I just did that, everyone saw me do that, and I don't care who saw it grin. No hiding, no excuses, no justifications, and for tonight at least no fretting that the angel is going to turn skittish and slam up overprotective walls between them. Not with a meal at the Ritz right in his immediate future, certainly. Hopefully not at all.

Hopefully not ever again, and maybe that's part of why Crowley grins so widely.

"Red it is." He makes note of a few of the best options, to decide on once they've picked out their meals (can't mix the wrong wine with the wrong food, the head chef might throw them out on their ears, which come to think of it would be so hilarious that it might be worth it, to Crowley). He makes his choices much more quickly than Aziraphale and leans back to watch the angel dither happily over too many delicious options.

From:

salutosinedelectat

No hiding, no running, no excuses. If he was going to run away, he wouldn't have showed up in the first place. Wouldn't have made his own belated confession. Would have been long gone ages ago, but the thought hasn't even crossed his mind.

He takes his time looking through the menu, the one he knows by heart at this point, but it's always so hard to choose. The least harmless expression of his indecisive nature. While it's unrealistic, he can only hope it stays focused only in subjects as unimportant as this.

When he finally makes his choices, Aziraphale daintily holds the menu closed, setting it down, speaking with all the fake casual tone of a school girl asking her crush who they like.

"So." He offers vaguely, intertwining his hands and resting them over the menu. "...the sword situation."

From:

duckshaveears

The tone amuses Crowley so much that it takes a second for the words to sink in. "Sword?"

For a minute he honestly has no idea what Aziraphale is on about. Not that he's forgotten the earlier conversation, he's just gotten distracted. "Ohhhh, right. Sword, wall, crossing lines. Is situation really the right word? Happened pretty long ago, after all."

From:

salutosinedelectat

Aziraphale ponders about it. "I suppose it may not give it its due." Whatever that means. He's just finding an excuse to resume their earlier conversation.

"I must say, my dear," He idly adjusts his position on the chair, too proper, too fussy. "Belatedly learning about the true meaning of your words does quite change the perspective."

From:

duckshaveears

Crowley, of course, is slouched. Slouching is probably against the rules of the Ritz as well, but that one he'll risk. It's possible he's physically incapable of sitting straight upright in a chair.

"Huh?" Crowley looks over his sunglasses at Aziraphale, quizzical. "Which words exactly?"

Look, he's said a lot of words. Even in conjunction with the sword, even just today. Aziraphale needs to unpack a bit.

From:

salutosinedelectat

Well, they haven't kicked him out yet. It could be related to the sheer consistency of their patronage and the large bills they rack up, tip included.

Aziraphale huffs idly, partly amused at this difficulty to get back on the subject. Self-brought, mostly, and he realizes that.

"The ones I failed to understand as sarcastic, dear."

From:

duckshaveears

"One sarcastic comment," Crowley insists at once. "One. Which was at least as edged towards me as you given that it was about whether or not angels can do the wrong thing."

Obviously they can, or else Crowley would've still been one.

"And I was still staggered by the idea that you might not be a self-righteous hypocrite like the rest of them, so--"

Is he babbling? He's babbling. And embarrassed. And feeling guilty, of all things, over a snarky comment made six thousand bloody years ago. Crowley groans and covers his face with a hand. "...all right, all right. I'm sorry I was sarcastic at you during your very real and valid moment of doubt about whether or not you'd done the right thing, which, for the record, you absolutely did."

From:

salutosinedelectat

During this whole scene, Aziraphale simply...smiles. He watches and listens to him go on, finding the agitation over something like this rather endearing. Charming, even.

He doesn't quite hide his smile, but he glances down at his hands and tries to make it a little more subtle.

"Consider it forgotten and forgiven, my dear." He doesn't care that much. There were many conversations since, then, countless ones, riddled with varying tones of honest and sarcasm. "Water under the bridge." Or rain over the wall.

From:

duckshaveears

"Good. Great. Thanks."

Crowley takes a deep sip of wine. Then he blinks.

"If it's water under the bridge, why are you referring to it as 'the sword situation'?"

From:

salutosinedelectat

He opens his mouth to answer, but falters. It's rather difficult to just simple say he was grasping at excuses. Trying to find a way to make the conversation flow back into what it had been before they arranged to meet, because, in all honesty, he was rather enjoying it.

So, instead, purses his lips and shrugs his shoulder, with all that unsubtle awkwardness that is very much his.

"It was a situation, was it not?" Still hoping his fumbling is easy to miss. "A situation that involved a sword."

From:

duckshaveears

As if Crowley has ever not noticed Aziraphale fumbling. Ever. In six thousand years.

(he has, once or twice, particularly during the week before Armageddon, but in his defence they both had a lot on their minds)

"It was, yeah," Crowley agrees slowly, discomfort being replaced by curiosity. "So...what do you mean by your perspective of it changing?"

From:

salutosinedelectat

It’s not like Aziraphale is particularly subtle, in any way, shape, form, or context. He just happens to think he’s more subtle than he is. It has come back to bite him more than once.

“ Ah, well.” That was a heck of a way to put it, before. “Knowing what you really meant by it. And knowing how you truly felt then. It’s only logical that it would change it a bit.”

And he’s not entirely sure how he feels about it yet, but it certainly is not a bad feeling. Perhaps a little embarassing.

From:

duckshaveears

"Hm." Crowley looks at him for another minute, considering.

All in all it's just as well that the waiter arrives at that point to see that the wine has met with approval, and to take their orders for food. By the time that's all done the awkwardness has smoothed itself out somewhat. Crowley leans back in his chair again. "Could mention another time the line was crossed. Once more by you, I might add."

From:

salutosinedelectat

It's a good thing the waiter shows up, because that minute of staring feels a bit weighted. Awkward, really, which is not aided by the fact that Aziraphale isn't entirely sure where he wants the conversation to go. He's not leading it, really, and another evening dining at the Ritz should not feel so pressured, but...something's different tonight. Something good, he...thinks. But it's there.

He's sipping his wine when Crowley speaks again, sparking up his attention once more. "Me? Again?"

From:

duckshaveears

"In Rome." Crowley grins. "You invited me to join you for lunch. First meal we ever had together."

And that despite Crowley having been in one of his worst moods ever--dealing with Caligula had turned even his demonic stomach--and having jumped on him at first. But Aziraphale had been happy to see him. Actually happy. He'd heard it in the angel's voice. When had anyone who actually knew him ever been happy to see him? Ever?

Crowley's grin grew wider, more teasing. "Could've marked it down to your general fondness for food, mind, but I decided to take it personally anyway."

From:

salutosinedelectat

Oh, he sees that grin. And hears that tone. And definitely remembers that day, so long ago. Such inconspicuous scenes, he feels, some things Aziraphale hasn’t thought about for so long. Moments he didn't think would mean more than what they did at the moment. But it just goes to show that he really doesn’t know much at all.

He smiles, a mix of fondness and coyness, but his lack of refutal is marked. It’s not that his intentions were all that complex back then, but Crowley pointing out what happened then, the way he does, even if the demon doesn’t voice all of his feelings about it...it makes something in Aziraphale’s chest feel gently fluttery.

“Well...it was a good lunch. Oysters.” He’d been growing more enamored by the food the mortal made. Such craftsmanship and originality. “ To be fair, I’d been growing a bit bored. So, I figured.” Said with a smile all the same.

Being away from Heaven for the most part. On Earth, among the mortals. Work was work, but not everything was terribly exciting. “Seeing a familiar face was...well, it brightened up the day.”

A beat. “You did look a bit glum, however.”

From:

duckshaveears

Crowley snorts. "Glum is putting it mildly," he says fervently before taking a long drink. "I was bloody hating everything that day, above and below and all around me, all of it."

Himself included, truthfully, for a while. The decade or so after the death of Christ had been hard. The conversation he'd had with Jesus had been deeply uncomfortable in many, many ways, that he's never told even the angel about. Strange, astonishing person, Jesus. Crowley wonders sometimes how he and Adam would have gotten along. Either Adam, really.

"Fortunately you showed up to improve things." Another affectionate smile. Lot of those happening today, and Crowley's not even sorry about it. "Brighten them, even."

From:

salutosinedelectat

He watches the demon curiously, vaguely considering asking him for more details about that day. But then Crowley smiles at him, and all he wants to do is to keep the conversation light and pleasant as it's been. He smiles right back.

"Well, I'm glad." While time doesn't often have much meaning to creatures that existed well before it, it's still strange to think about back then, and about how they didn't know each other as closely. "And I was right about the oysters, wasn't I?" Cheekily, but softly.

From:

duckshaveears

Crowley laughs. "Yes, you blessed gourmand, you were right about the oysters. They were marvellous. Never had any since to match them."

Which might've been the company or the astonishment of the event, but who cares? They were good oysters.

From:

salutosinedelectat

Aziraphale chuckles - giggles, really -, taking another sip of his wine.

"We should go for oysters again. I haven't had them in so long. But it's so difficult to find somewhere with the same level of quality."

They do have all the time in the world, however.