has_a_horn: (what | ...)
has_a_horn ([personal profile] has_a_horn) wrote in [community profile] bigapplesauce2016-11-06 10:05 pm

tidings of comfort and joy [closed]

The door to the book store creaks loudly as he pulls it open, and as his eyes adjust to the gloom inside he finds a vampire staring at him from behind the cluttered counter. The man squints at the new arrival briefly, before announcing that the shop is closed. Gabriel just smiles at him and walks towards the back of the shop. "Don't worry, I don't want any books. Just looking for Aziraphale." This news seems to appease the vampire, who waves him on and then lies his head on the counter top to sleep.

After a minute of trying to navigate around books, Gabriel simply wings himself to the doorway at the back of the shop. Aziraphale can probably tell that he's here by now, so there's really no reason to knock before he pushes the door open and walks in.

Only, when he walks in, Aziraphale doesn't even seem to be awake. He's lying on the couch with one leg propped up along the backrest and a book covering his face. The room doesn't seem much better- there are wine bottles and detritus everywhere in various states of disarray. Obviously he should have stopped by sooner. He'd come because he's been missing having someone around that he can communicate with telepathically, but it looks like Aziraphale could use his help instead.

He steps in quietly and reaches out to gently lift the book off of Aziraphale's face. That done without waking him, he folds the book and sets it aside.

"Aziraphale?" Nothing. He pokes him with a finger. "Hey, Captain Plaid, wake up."
bibliophale: (goodness gracious | what??)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-11-07 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
There was a time, not too terribly long ago, that Aziraphale was outright affronted by the Rift's insistence that he sleep, and moreover dream. Crowley enjoyed sleep; Aziraphale never saw the appeal, always something to do, more books to fuss over, more sushi to eat. Lately though the Rift hasn't even had to invite itself into his head for it. He's just slept.

It's a secret well-kept by himself and Spike, who has no reason to know it's in any way unusual. For both of them, the shop has become a napping ground. Spike doesn't care what he gets up to any more than the reverse; this is what lets them work well together. So when someone's nudging him awake, and he naturally assumes it could only be his vampiric companion, he finds himself both annoyed and confused. Spike isn't the sort to come poking him for any reason, least of all poking him awake.

"-st- For His sake, what?" he snaps, just in time before he becomes incredibly, substantially aware of the angelic presence beside him, and he sits up very sharply indeed. Gabriel's standing there, as outwardly unassuming as ever, bearing full witness to Aziraphale's mess - hair mussed, glasses askew, suit rumpled and bottles absolutely everywhere. Aziraphale fish-mouths stupidly at him for just a moment before waving a hand - graceless and unnecessarily overt - and promptly miracling the bottles, the Chinese food boxes, the strewn remains of too many days spent in such a state, and the hangover into abrupt nonexistence, as well as smoothing his clothes, straightening his glasses, and even replacing the book on its proper shelf. He stands up stiffly, brushing a nervous hand down the front of his tartan jacket.

"Yes, er, hello," he says. "What do you - that is, what's happened? Has something happened?" Something must have happened.
bibliophale: (nervous | evasive)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-11-08 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale blinks his surprise at Gabriel before recollecting the date - goodness, it is nearly Christmas, isn't it? How frightfully absent-minded he's become.1

"I-" He stammers for a moment before Gabriel clarifies his purpose in arriving, and then relaxes his shoulders some. Mulled wine and cookies actually sounds... wonderful. But it's something he might consider sharing with, say, Sunshine, not... not...

Is the Archangel Gabriel really inviting him to... hang out? Of course they've done it once or twice before, but it's not the sort of thing to which Aziraphale is prepared to grow accustomed.

"A party, is it?" he guesses faintly. Gabriel has many friends, after all, many he considers closer than the likes of Aziraphale, surely. "I don't know that I'm very good at parties."


1 In truth Aziraphale has not been in the habit of remembering or celebrating Christmas in at least three hundred years; especially not since the holiday was gripped by capitalistic overlords (most certainly guided by agents of Hell).
bibliophale: (dubious | wary)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-11-08 05:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale is fully prepared to meet that grin with intractable dubiousness, and when it softens into what he presumes is more of a genuine smile he's left more uncertain than ever. This seems like it ought to be a trick, but to what purpose? It feels alarmingly subversive to think even briefly that an Archangel might be capable or inclined to trick him - even one so, well, unorthodox as Gabriel has proven to be - but, well, that's the entire point, isn't it, Gabriel has more than once defined subversion, leaving Aziraphale in the difficult position of feeling he both ought and ought not to be suspicious.

"Er," he says eventually. "Of course." He takes a steadying if otherwise unnecessary breath. He is really becoming quite paranoid, isn't he. 'Tis the season after all, and an offer of mulled wine, cookies, and angelic company is not to be taken lightly. He straightens his posture all the more and dutifully holds out his hand, having missed the opportunity to take Gabriel's. "That sounds very pleasant."
bibliophale: (prissy as hell | fashionista)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-11-16 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale looks around appreciatively at the pleasant decorations - even if a lot of that capitalistic nonsense was cooked up by Hell, it's still nice to look at - then redirects his gaze toward the Archangel, so casually remarking on the state of affairs. Aziraphale's state of affairs. His well-hidden, consistently denied state of affairs.

"Er," he says, thumbs fiddling without object, as he looks around desperately for something to fiddle with. "Er, well, not exactly, no."

Not exactly last night, either. That was several weeks of worked-upon mess Aziraphale had just cleaned up, in the blink of an eye. Rather discombobulating, when he thinks about it. He'd grown used to the clutter. Liable to lose sense of his surroundings without it.

He's not offering an explanation, he's well aware; he's aware, too, that this will likely motivate Gabriel to investigate further, which he's not all that thrilled about. But he's not about to just offer up yes, well, I've been drinking myself into a hole for going on three months now and I think I might actually be miserably depressed and I have no idea what to do about it on a bloody platter.
bibliophale: (demure | thoughtful | heh)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-11-16 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale trails after him, smiling faintly at the music choice, and chuckles at Gabriel's aspersion of conceit. A Gabriel who jokes at all, much less self-deprecatingly, is still very much a novelty, but Aziraphale is at least starting to settle into the business of relaxing in his company.

The comments on his Gabriel prompt another chuckle, albeit an embarrassed one. "That is almost entirely accurate," he says with the air of one dipping a toe into a pool to test the temperature. "Very serious, that one. And not terribly efficient in the, er, messaging department."

He hesitates, and when no errant bolt of lightning strikes him down on the spot, he rewards himself with a sip of the mulled wine.

"In all, erm," he flounders for a moment, making a vague encompassing gesture at Gabriel, "-respect, er - What is it like in your universe? I mean, are they all so... well..."

To distract himself from the painful struggle for inoffensive adjectives, he leans forward to take a cookie off the platter that's been set out on the coffee table. Most of them are quite festive, with traditional Christmas sort of shapes, but the one he picks out is more of a - is that a rocket ship? He smiles at it bemusedly before taking a bite.

"So laid back?" he says finally.
bibliophale: (nervous | evasive)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-11-22 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale isn't entirely aware of what his face is doing when Gabriel seems to read something from it; belatedly he realizes his mild inquisitiveness has shifted to something like bewildered horror. The implications of it all are rather alarming.

"Er, well, not exactly," he says, focusing back on his wine. "That's not to say we haven't had our scrapes, but I suppose it was more... organized. For the most part."

This really seems like something he ought not to pry any further into, and yet he's ferociously curious. He gives his wine a diffident sip, eyeing Gabriel over the top of the mug with slightly raised eyebrows.

"We stopped the apocalypse," he ventures. Uncertain if they've ever brought this up before. Who remembers? "Crowley and I. Well. Canceled it. Well. It was more the Antichrist. It's a long story." He flaps a hand. "I suppose it could all have gone a lot worse and maybe it would have resembled your state of affairs more. But... well." He frowns, trying very hard not to ask, losing in the end: "He left?"
bibliophale: (resignation | welp)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2016-12-11 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale chuckles faintly. Yes, he certainly would shake things up with his tremendously peculiar and fickle ways (he still hasn't forgotten the very different Gabriel he met on their first encounter), likely more even than he and Crowley had managed. He still feels a desperate curiosity to know more about Gabriel's very barbaric-seeming universe, but the obvious shift in subject isn't something he's willing to challenge.

The new subject doesn't exactly thrill him, but he supposes it is only fair.

He frowns deeply and slouches a little lower in the sofa. "Your guess is as good as mine," he mutters. "I haven't seen much of him myself."
bibliophale: (goodness gracious | what??)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2017-01-10 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Er..." Aziraphale doesn't get very far in his response before Gabriel touches him, and then touches him. It's very small and brief, a fleeting bit of friendly angelic contact, but the fact still is it's from an Archangel of an unfamiliar Heaven and it's more than Aziraphale has received on that level in a long time. He blinks, quite startled, and meets Gabriel's eyes for a moment. What's the etiquette for this? The polite thing to do might be to reach back, but that feels like a tremendous presumption, especially when he's still not sure what it means. It could honestly mean anything.

He's rescued from having to answer the question or deal with any of that in the immediate present by the sudden bright, overwhelming presence of a human - an incredibly blessed human. He shines like a beacon, and Aziraphale's eyes boggle a bit before he turns slowly toward the door. He barely notices Gabriel's murmured apology and departure, barely notices the previously sleeping dog's noisy, excitable approach to the door. The boy at the door is - oh, it's that boy. Gabriel's boy.

The only time Aziraphale has had any interaction with this one was a while ago, when Lily had arrived. He'd been a disorienting bright spot then, but it seems like he's even brighter now, giving way for Aziraphale to wonder if Gabriel just blesses him every time he sees him.

With Lucifer on the prowl it can't be a bad idea to protect his own. Odd, that his own is this small, rude, dirty human.

"Oh," Johnny is saying, full of wry humor. Used to Gabriel's off-putting way of putting things. "Of course you were." He takes a moment to kiss Gabriel properly, a short, familiar thing, and then glances past him at Aziraphale, who feels almost like he ought to look away when confronted with so much visible love. "Angel stuff, huh?"

It's as if he expects an answer. Aziraphale just nods faintly.

"Well I don't wanna get in the way," he says lightly. "Anyway I was just gonna take a nap. Come get me when you're done, if you want." He bends down to greet the dog, then makes his quick departure. Seems he's not always rude, at least.

The dog, now fully roused and aware of the new presence in the apartment, comes bounding over to the couch, jumping up to sniff Aziraphale, who flaps a hand at it in wary befuddlement.
bibliophale: (resignation | welp)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2017-01-30 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale hadn't even considered the possibility of insult, despite his brief history with the human; rather he's relieved at the continued privacy of this engagement. Privacy, that is, and the dog. He does vaguely remember the little fellow from that abysmal time he'd taken ill, though he'd rather not remember much else about it.

"Er," he remarks as Scout clambers into his lap. It seems like it might be rude to refuse, so he sits there passively, like a rock deciding it might as well welcome the growing moss. He rests a hesitating hand on the dog's back and gives it a pat. So long as it doesn't make a habit of licking him, they'll get along fine.

"That boy shines like a beacon," he says after a moment, skirting the previous topic and their brief bout of telepathic contact, for now. "Just how many times have you blessed him?"
bibliophale: (demure | thoughtful | heh)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2017-02-10 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"Ah." Aziraphale frowns slightly, both at the reminder of Lucifer (not that he very much needed reminding) and the notion of having to keep one's closest acquaintance at bay. It is very much like what he is enduring with (or rather without) Crowley.

"I - well, no," he says. "Though I would never presume to judge." He says this a little cautiously, with a little smug flattery as well - of course he would never, not with an archangel1. "It is good of you to protect him. Would that we could protect them all."

That thread of conversation seems like it could not possibly lead to anything but a downtrodden trail of misery, so he promptly takes a sip of his wine and changes the subject. "Sorry, er, you did something before he arrived, that is, I felt you, er, on a more angelic level." Blunt, but he's not entirely sure what else to say about it just yet.


1 He has, in fact, judged many archangels including both of the Gabriels he's known on multiple occasions.
Edited 2017-02-10 23:25 (UTC)