Gift Fic for Apple_Pi!
Dec. 1st, 2006 07:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
vulgarweed.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
go_exchangeAnd here is the first story of GOE 2006!
Title: A Midnight Clear
Gift for:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
app1e_pi
Author:blueeyedtigress
Recipient's Request: Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale & Crowley; No mpreg or non-con please; not a big fan of angst. Something light and sweet or tender would be lovely. Humour ALWAYS welcome. :-)
Rating: perhaps a mild PG-13 for innuendo?
Comments: this is yet another one of those tales that wrote themselves. I hope you enjoy it! Merry Yuletide!
(And many thanks to my spiffy non-GO betas,annechen67 and sff_corgi!)
The angel, bless him, was humming. Again. Still. Yet another carol – he recognised the tune this time – a catchy little ear-worm with schmaltz, cheese and saccharine for words. Crowley knew several reliable methods of derailing Aziraphale’s train of thought, but most of them were not recommended for use across the table of a crowded restaurant. Not if they wanted to eat there again without using the flashy thing. He mentally shrugged, then stretched out one long leg and brushed the angel’s ankle very deliberately with the toe of his snakeskin boot.
Curiosity temporarily silenced Aziraphale's self-generated soundtrack. He glanced up at his luncheon companion. "Yes, my dear?"
Crowley shot a pointed look over his sunglasses. "We’ve discussed this before, angel. Yuletide cheer makes me itch."
At the angel’s confused look, the demon added with a leer, "You were humming again. Something about coming on a midnight clear. Your place or mine?"
Angelic eyes were rolled. "Really, my dear, I hadn’t thought you were referring to that kind of itch. I shall have to file away this terribly useful tidbit for future reference."
That earned the angel a kick - a fairly light one, softened by a wry grin.
'I have a few errands to run this afternoon," Crowley said casually. "Shall we get together this evening?"
Carefully sliding his chair back far enough to take his shins out of range, Aziraphale looked wistfully toward the tasteful clock on the wall and pondered aloud, "But can I, in all good conscience, leave the poor dear boy alone until evening? There is a lot of Yuletide cheer on the streets today ..."
Crowley chose to ignore this. He proved however that he had heard at least one word when he snapped his fingers. "Cheer! I should get a supply of wine, I suppose? You’ll pick up cheese and things?" Their waitress interrupted, bustling by for their payment and her tip. They made their way out into the cool, early-winter air before the conversation resumed.
"So you'd prefer that we go our separate ways this afternoon? Why? Is there something demonic afoot that I should be thwarting? Perhaps I should go with you?"
"No, no, no. Just a few errands! Nothing interesting." Crowley was, in the angel's opinion, being endearingly evasive.
"Tell you what," the demon continued, "we can both do our own thing this afternoon. No thwarting of wiles, or wiling of thwarts. Free reign to do all the blessed good you please! Deal?"
Aziraphale made a show of considering this, all the while laughing inside - it was December 24th, after all. "I suppose that would be acceptable, just this once. Dinner at six then? Your place?" He added innocently, "Or mine?"
"Mine. It’s more comfortable than that dust-collector you call a book shop." Crowley kissed him briefly yet with an unmistakable flare of passion (merely hoping to scandalise a group of old ladies loitering nearby, of course) then set off at a quick trot down the street. "No following me, angel!"
"I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear," Aziraphale called after him, smiling fondly. The angel then turned to the watching knot of women (who were grinning their encouragement at him). He wished them a cheery "Blessed Yule!" before walking briskly in the opposite direction from the way that Crowley had gone. Really, the thought to himself, when it came to his and Crowley’s relationship, some of the least flappable observers were the local Wiccans. Not exactly in his camp, as it were, but dear, spiritual people in their way ...
***
Crowley had picked out three expensive bottles of French merlot, two of a promising German gewürztraminer, and, on a whim, four bottles of Canadian ice wine. He worried for a moment that he hadn’t got enough, then shrugged: there would be enough, if the wine knew what was good for it.
He was still at a loss about a gift for the angel, though.
Techie toys would be wasted on him. Rare books were always good, but so predictable. A nice suit would ... well, it would be a gift for him rather than for Aziraphale. Ergo not quite what he was after ...
***
Sakura, Beauvoorde, Tilsit, Cashel Blue, Jarlsberg. With a wry inward chuckle, Aziraphale decided against the Gabriel and the St. Brigid. A nice old Cheddar, a Double Gloucester. That should be sufficient variety. Oh, yes, some Brie! Hmmm ... Now for a packet of table water crackers, and a nice selection of those chocolate-chip ginger biscuits. Smoked oysters. Gherkins. A goose-liver pâté. An assortment of colourful crudités. A dark chocolate mousse, some fresh strawberries. Yes, perfect.
Right, then! That taken care of, he could move on to the most important purchase of the day: with Crowley occupied elsewhere, the angel could pick out a gift for him. But what? Aziraphale hadn’t a clue about technological toys, and he could hardly be expected to be able to choose a suit the demon would be caught discorporated in. And books, he suspected, would be less than well received as a special gift. Perhaps inspiration would strike ...
***
Five o’clock. Crowley was running out of time, and he was becoming frustrated. An iPod? No. A rare Bible? Don’t be stupid. Perhaps ...? Hmmmm.
***
Five o’clock. Aziraphale was running out of time, and he was becoming grumpy. Concert tickets? No. A tartan scarf? Don’t be foolish. Perhaps ...? Hmmmm.
***
Six o’clock.
Aziraphale climbed the stairs to Crowley’s stylish Mayfair flat, laden with carefully chosen delicacies. When he knocked, the door was thrown open with a speed that suggested Crowley had been listening at the keyhole for his footsteps.
They had quite comfortably agreed long ago that edible dainties should be a compliment to fine wines, not an end unto themselves. With an economy of words, the finger-foods were arranged on elegant platters which were in turn placed on the coffee table, arrayed within easy reach of the stylish white leather couch. The two man-shaped beings settled side by side, and wine was poured. And more wine. And yet more wine.
By the time the appreciative tasting had wound its gradual way to the chocolate mousse, strawberries and ice wine, the angel and demon were leaning against each other for balance as much as for companionship.
Aziraphale glanced blearily at Crowley, a sly smile creeping over his face. "Got something for you, my dear."
Crowley sat up straighter in drunken delight, a smile lighting his face as well. "Really? Got something for you, too."
With nearly identical gestures, two small package appeared on the couch beside them. The one Aziraphale passed to Crowley was a confection of silver tissue, with a froth of sky-blue ribbons. The parcel that Crowley pressed into Aziraphale’s eager grasp was wrapped in deep red, bedecked in a restrained fashion with black ribbon striped in dull gold.
After a tipsy grin at each other, they started tearing into their gifts. A few moments later, there was a pause, then an outburst of what sounded distinctly like angelic and demonic giggling.
Crowley’s eyes twinkled as he held up a pair of black and crimson silk boxer shorts. Aziraphale blushed and grinned as he clutched a pair of pristine white silk ... boxer shorts.
The demon quirked one eyebrow and leered. "I can think of the perfect activity for the rest of the evening ..."
The angel blushed and looked at his companion heatedly through his eyelashes. "I think I’m ... up for unwrapping another gift, my dear. Yes ..."
Happy Holiday, Apple_Pi, from your Secret Writer!
Title: A Midnight Clear
Gift for:
app1e_piAuthor:
blueeyedtigressRecipient's Request: Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale & Crowley; No mpreg or non-con please; not a big fan of angst. Something light and sweet or tender would be lovely. Humour ALWAYS welcome. :-)
Rating: perhaps a mild PG-13 for innuendo?
Comments: this is yet another one of those tales that wrote themselves. I hope you enjoy it! Merry Yuletide!
(And many thanks to my spiffy non-GO betas,
annechen67 and sff_corgi!)The angel, bless him, was humming. Again. Still. Yet another carol – he recognised the tune this time – a catchy little ear-worm with schmaltz, cheese and saccharine for words. Crowley knew several reliable methods of derailing Aziraphale’s train of thought, but most of them were not recommended for use across the table of a crowded restaurant. Not if they wanted to eat there again without using the flashy thing. He mentally shrugged, then stretched out one long leg and brushed the angel’s ankle very deliberately with the toe of his snakeskin boot.
Curiosity temporarily silenced Aziraphale's self-generated soundtrack. He glanced up at his luncheon companion. "Yes, my dear?"
Crowley shot a pointed look over his sunglasses. "We’ve discussed this before, angel. Yuletide cheer makes me itch."
At the angel’s confused look, the demon added with a leer, "You were humming again. Something about coming on a midnight clear. Your place or mine?"
Angelic eyes were rolled. "Really, my dear, I hadn’t thought you were referring to that kind of itch. I shall have to file away this terribly useful tidbit for future reference."
That earned the angel a kick - a fairly light one, softened by a wry grin.
'I have a few errands to run this afternoon," Crowley said casually. "Shall we get together this evening?"
Carefully sliding his chair back far enough to take his shins out of range, Aziraphale looked wistfully toward the tasteful clock on the wall and pondered aloud, "But can I, in all good conscience, leave the poor dear boy alone until evening? There is a lot of Yuletide cheer on the streets today ..."
Crowley chose to ignore this. He proved however that he had heard at least one word when he snapped his fingers. "Cheer! I should get a supply of wine, I suppose? You’ll pick up cheese and things?" Their waitress interrupted, bustling by for their payment and her tip. They made their way out into the cool, early-winter air before the conversation resumed.
"So you'd prefer that we go our separate ways this afternoon? Why? Is there something demonic afoot that I should be thwarting? Perhaps I should go with you?"
"No, no, no. Just a few errands! Nothing interesting." Crowley was, in the angel's opinion, being endearingly evasive.
"Tell you what," the demon continued, "we can both do our own thing this afternoon. No thwarting of wiles, or wiling of thwarts. Free reign to do all the blessed good you please! Deal?"
Aziraphale made a show of considering this, all the while laughing inside - it was December 24th, after all. "I suppose that would be acceptable, just this once. Dinner at six then? Your place?" He added innocently, "Or mine?"
"Mine. It’s more comfortable than that dust-collector you call a book shop." Crowley kissed him briefly yet with an unmistakable flare of passion (merely hoping to scandalise a group of old ladies loitering nearby, of course) then set off at a quick trot down the street. "No following me, angel!"
"I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear," Aziraphale called after him, smiling fondly. The angel then turned to the watching knot of women (who were grinning their encouragement at him). He wished them a cheery "Blessed Yule!" before walking briskly in the opposite direction from the way that Crowley had gone. Really, the thought to himself, when it came to his and Crowley’s relationship, some of the least flappable observers were the local Wiccans. Not exactly in his camp, as it were, but dear, spiritual people in their way ...
***
Crowley had picked out three expensive bottles of French merlot, two of a promising German gewürztraminer, and, on a whim, four bottles of Canadian ice wine. He worried for a moment that he hadn’t got enough, then shrugged: there would be enough, if the wine knew what was good for it.
He was still at a loss about a gift for the angel, though.
Techie toys would be wasted on him. Rare books were always good, but so predictable. A nice suit would ... well, it would be a gift for him rather than for Aziraphale. Ergo not quite what he was after ...
***
Sakura, Beauvoorde, Tilsit, Cashel Blue, Jarlsberg. With a wry inward chuckle, Aziraphale decided against the Gabriel and the St. Brigid. A nice old Cheddar, a Double Gloucester. That should be sufficient variety. Oh, yes, some Brie! Hmmm ... Now for a packet of table water crackers, and a nice selection of those chocolate-chip ginger biscuits. Smoked oysters. Gherkins. A goose-liver pâté. An assortment of colourful crudités. A dark chocolate mousse, some fresh strawberries. Yes, perfect.
Right, then! That taken care of, he could move on to the most important purchase of the day: with Crowley occupied elsewhere, the angel could pick out a gift for him. But what? Aziraphale hadn’t a clue about technological toys, and he could hardly be expected to be able to choose a suit the demon would be caught discorporated in. And books, he suspected, would be less than well received as a special gift. Perhaps inspiration would strike ...
***
Five o’clock. Crowley was running out of time, and he was becoming frustrated. An iPod? No. A rare Bible? Don’t be stupid. Perhaps ...? Hmmmm.
***
Five o’clock. Aziraphale was running out of time, and he was becoming grumpy. Concert tickets? No. A tartan scarf? Don’t be foolish. Perhaps ...? Hmmmm.
***
Six o’clock.
Aziraphale climbed the stairs to Crowley’s stylish Mayfair flat, laden with carefully chosen delicacies. When he knocked, the door was thrown open with a speed that suggested Crowley had been listening at the keyhole for his footsteps.
They had quite comfortably agreed long ago that edible dainties should be a compliment to fine wines, not an end unto themselves. With an economy of words, the finger-foods were arranged on elegant platters which were in turn placed on the coffee table, arrayed within easy reach of the stylish white leather couch. The two man-shaped beings settled side by side, and wine was poured. And more wine. And yet more wine.
By the time the appreciative tasting had wound its gradual way to the chocolate mousse, strawberries and ice wine, the angel and demon were leaning against each other for balance as much as for companionship.
Aziraphale glanced blearily at Crowley, a sly smile creeping over his face. "Got something for you, my dear."
Crowley sat up straighter in drunken delight, a smile lighting his face as well. "Really? Got something for you, too."
With nearly identical gestures, two small package appeared on the couch beside them. The one Aziraphale passed to Crowley was a confection of silver tissue, with a froth of sky-blue ribbons. The parcel that Crowley pressed into Aziraphale’s eager grasp was wrapped in deep red, bedecked in a restrained fashion with black ribbon striped in dull gold.
After a tipsy grin at each other, they started tearing into their gifts. A few moments later, there was a pause, then an outburst of what sounded distinctly like angelic and demonic giggling.
Crowley’s eyes twinkled as he held up a pair of black and crimson silk boxer shorts. Aziraphale blushed and grinned as he clutched a pair of pristine white silk ... boxer shorts.
The demon quirked one eyebrow and leered. "I can think of the perfect activity for the rest of the evening ..."
The angel blushed and looked at his companion heatedly through his eyelashes. "I think I’m ... up for unwrapping another gift, my dear. Yes ..."
Happy Holiday, Apple_Pi, from your Secret Writer!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 01:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 01:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 02:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 02:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 02:53 am (UTC)Thanks for this!
Mary
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 03:00 am (UTC)And I won't say why did you end it theeere? But my mind wants to.The fact that they're so in tune with each other that they can pick out the necessities without a second thought and then go and buy similar presents for each other just makes me grin all over the place. When it comes down to it, they don't considered each other so different after all. And their voices sounded so right! Great job!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 03:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 03:39 am (UTC)A very sweet holiday story; what a great note to start the GO Exchange on! :D Fabulous job, SecretWriter!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 04:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 04:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 07:38 am (UTC)What's ironic is, Aziraphale would probably adore an iPod, but he'd never admit to that. Like others above, I think the Christmas carol bit at the beginning is a nice touch!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 08:56 am (UTC)Crowley trying to scandalise old ladies is probably a rather frequent occurence...
I loved the playful suggestiveness of their talk, as well as the urgency to find a gift lateron.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-02 05:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:27 pm (UTC)That sort of scandal is that kind that annoys, passes along, and keeps tarnishing souls all day ~ craftsmanship! :)
They've been together, as friends then lovers, for so long that I'm sure they have a wealth of connotation between them ~ a phrase that can serve as a whole conversation, for instance. It's nice they can be playful together, since, really, who else could they be playful with? I'm glad that sort of thing cam across! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:32 pm (UTC)Thank you! The Christmas carol bit must have been hissed into my ear as I sat down to write, because it's the snippet that came, fully-formed, to begin the telling of the tale ~ everything else just flowed from there. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:44 pm (UTC)A/C: a Man In Black goes out to lunch with the Man From Glad ...Thank you so much for your kind words! Glad you enjoyed it! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:49 pm (UTC)I was delighted to see that my little tale was kicking things off, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you so much! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 01:58 pm (UTC)Because it did. Because I was asked for light and sweet. Because I suck at sex scenes. Pick one. 8DTheir being in tune and understanding each other is, for me, at least as important as the steamy stuff. I'm glad their voices sounded right! Thanks! 8D
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 02:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 02:03 pm (UTC)Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 02:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 02:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 02:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-03 08:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-04 08:59 am (UTC)xoxox Pi
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-04 05:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-04 05:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-05 01:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-05 07:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-06 05:37 am (UTC)This is amusing and sweet. ^_^ Just right.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-07 01:36 pm (UTC)Hee! Very cute.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-07 07:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-07 07:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-07 07:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-07 07:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-09 07:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-13 03:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-31 09:17 pm (UTC)I hope your exams all went very well! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-31 09:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-06 02:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-06 02:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-10 09:40 pm (UTC)