fandomtownies | The Rare Books Shop-- Sunday

Books and such here.

Sure, eat and drink...gluttony is a sin you know.

Kiki comes in, smiles and waves to Mr. Crowley, and then curls up across one of the chairs near the fire place. She's not here to work today, but she will if she's needed. Propping her spellbook on her knees, she starts reading, sipping tea absently as she concentrates.

He's good for comforts and such.

He barely tolerates you. Why do you bother him so?

Because he's a masochist!

And because he had a particular ornament for the fallen one. So, with that specific task in mind, Wilson came trotting up towards the shop, carrying the little token wrapped up neatly in his hands.

Clearing the doorway of the shop, he carried in the scents of ice and cold with him as he called out cheerfully.

"Crowley?!"

[He lazily drops his head to the side, ceasing reading where he's splayed out on the couch. He can see the door. He can see James. He doesn't care. He turns his attention back to "Jerry Ceramicist and the Three Quarter Brained Monarch".]

Wilson scooted about the shop, poking his nose into the stacks and the kitchen briefly, before sliding past the lounge. He'd been considering heading out towards the Park to find the ducks and see if the demon might be there when he spied him on the couch.

"Ah! There you are." Wilson exclaimed, walking over towards the couch and sitting down on the front of a chair.

"Good morning, Mr. Crowley."

[He drops his head lazily to the side once again.] And like the Christmas pickle, I am found. Good morning to you too as well, James. Did you want something, or did you just want to interrupt my reading? The three quarter brained monarch has just been revealed. It's quite a ripping tale...

That got a blink out of the young doctor as he looked at the demon.

"Christmas pickle? You're liking yourself to a brined cucumber, Crowley?" Wilson sounded more curious than snarky, he was woefully ignorant of a lot of Christmas traditions, being...Jewish.

"Happy coincidence?" He grinned. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say hello yesterday but I didn't want to interupt your fun."

[He sighs heavily, making a mental note to inundate James and Gregory with Christmas...avocados.]

Yesterday, yes. I had quite a fine time. I met a fine witch, and spent time with my lovely Duce...and saw my dear boy. It was so kind of my angel to invite my, erm, peeps.

"Excellent!" Wilson exclaimed putting genuine pleasure into his voice. "I'm glad he thought about it, having everyone here, that's what the holidays are about after all."

Throttling back on a small bounce, Wilson held up the newspaper wrapped item in his hand.

"I have something for you."

Is it something quite pimp? That seems to be the theme of my gifts lately. [Without getting up, he holds out his hand.] No matter. Gifts are...always welcome.

Laughing, Wilson was forced to shake his head.

"No, I'm afraid this one is from me. Well...with Aziraphale's help, he made the duck."

Grinning, Wilson handed over the newspaper wrapped ornament (http://www.livejournal.com/users/a_phale/10781.html?thread=285213#t285213) for Crowley.

[He tears the paper, in no way eager for another gift. When he sees the duck on the reindeer her chuckles.] James, my boy, you have a sharp wit. Sharp indeed.

Wilson looked down at the carpet between his feet, hands clasped between his knees as he watched Crowley break into the 'gift'.

"Well I wish I had a video camera to have captured Aziraphale's expression when I sang Grandma got run over by a reindeer to him. It was...classic, you would have smiled."

It is the great joy of my existance to shock my angel. I'm sure it was quite entertaining. [He throws his legs off the couch, sitting up.] Be a dear and bring us some tea, James.

"I'll see if I can find you an album of Twisted Christmas Tunes. Those should do nicely for shock value." Wilson said with a gentle natured grin on his face as he stood up and moved to the tea service.

Pouring out two cups, he sliced a glance over towards the demon. "Do you take anything in yours, Crowley?"

It pinched him a little that he didn't know the answer to that question already but he simply looked about the service for cream, sugar or lemon.

Not a thing, dear boy, Tea as it was intended, please. Come sit, and tell me why you've been so very needy lately. Don't think I haven't noticed the changes in my angel when you're around.

Nodding, Wilson carried the two cups back over to the couch and holding the one out towards Crowley, he settled in beside the demon.

Sit and then blink and frown a lttiel.

"I'm sorry, Crowley...I...I haven't been trying to be needy of Aziraphale." The oncologist looked genuinely stricken by the idea that maybe he'd been leaning on the angel too much.

"He's all right, isn't he? He said he was all right."

Of course not, James. But then you can't expect him to keep his strength around you. Not now, not after that night with my pen. [He grins, and sits up a bit.]

Wilson felt an icy trendril of fear work it's way around his chest and he found his next breath to be a bit difficult to take but he was careful to remain calm as he sat, worriedly, next to Crowley.

"I don't...I'm sorry, Crowley I don't understand what you're saying."

Yes you do, boy. You know precisely what I'm talking about. [He grins] This is what you get for not reading the fine print. For not reading anything, actually.

Sitting there, quietly...Wilson rolled back and forward over the conversation, trying to work through the delicate balance of how Crowley's words were making him feel, vs what Crowley was trying to do and the difference between the two.

"I was forsaken long before I met, Aziraphale. There's nothing in the fine print...you're laying out the path for me to eat myself up with guilt."

THough his tone was soft, there was a sort of understanding in his voice that if he did end up eating himself up with guilt, it would be his choice.

James, you weren't forsaken by anyone but yourself...until that fateful night. I have such a vested interest in you now, boy. Why don't you come see me more often, and leave my angel be?

Again, there were many responses, many paths he could have choosen to take and it was hard for him to haul back and try to figure out the right thing to do. In the end, he decided to drop the fencing he often did with Crowley and simply go with the truth.

"Because it's nice to see your angel laugh...and I don't think he gets to do that too often in between helping people all the time."

He exhaled and then very playfully pouted at Crowley. "And I do come to see you. Sometimes you ignore me and other times you disregard my invitations to come share your company."

You do amuse him. Like a beloved pet or a fine scotch, I think. [He chuckles and leans further forward.] As for me, I must keep you on your toes, James. I can't have you getting complacent around me, now can I?

Holding on to the idea of honesty being the best policy -after all, he truly couldn't be any more vulnerable to Crowley than he already was- Wilson moved without over thinking it.

Leaning in towards the fallen one, he again...kissed his cheek. Leaning close enough to whisper against his ear the young doctor smiled with a sad sort of understanding.

"You can hurt me, Crowley...and sometimes your words strike, closer than anyone else I know. But it hurts because you can tempt me along the path of my own insecurity. The last thing, I ever am ... is complacent around you."

Leaning back, Wilson moved towards his feet, his voice soft but warmly good natured as he asked. "Did you want a scone? I thought I saw a few over here."

Gleeful at the idea of scones.

[He snorts] James, if you want to make out, I'll take you out in my car, otherwise I'd ask you to keep your lips to yourself.

[He moves his hands up and down in front of himself] This is called my personal space, doctor.

It was Wilson's turn to snort as he returned to the chair he'd been sitting on with a cinnamon scone.

"I stopped making out in cars when I was seventeen, Crowley."

Smiling over at the fallen one, Wilson decided to just follow Crowley's lead and play everything light and easy.

"You were pushing it into 'my' personal space. I simply choose the most rapid method of getting you to retreat. Doctor cooties."

Neatly breaking off pieces of his scone, he dipped one into his tea and then asked with genuine curiosity.

"Do you really have a '27 Bentley?"

26, lad. I've had her from new. She's a beaut. [He leans back, pulling one leg up.] My angel loves her, quite a bit, in fact.

Wilson's lips twitched, good humor dancing in his dark eyes as he neatly popped a piece of tea soaked scone into his mouth. Swallowing before responding.

"It is a magnificent automobile and I'm sure that Aziraphale loves what she represents."

And what do you think she represents, doctor?

Dipping another piece of scone in his tea, Wilson peered at Crowley from behind impossibly long lashes and smiled gently.

"A quiet place to converse without 'issues' threatening to interupt."

We don't typically converse like that. We just...drive. It's quite pleasant, actually. [His mouth softens, and although his glasses hide his eyes, he looks as iff he's probably staring off in the distance, lost in thought.]

Even with the sunglasses on, Wilson could tell that Crowley had wandered down the road of his own thoughts and since nothing the fallen one had said prompted a response, Wilson settled back into the chair, simply content to sit with the man for a bit.

[He sits for a long while, quietly, a slight smile dancing across his mouth. He stirs his tea with his finger to warm it once agian, before turning back to James.] What were you saying, lad? I'm so sorry, I drifted off there.

Wilson lifted his head from where it had been resting back on the back of the chair.

"Hmm? Wasn't saying anything Crowley."

[He smirks] My bad, dawg.

Deciding that slipping back into quiet might save him a follow up pimp slang, Wilson grinned and lay his head back.

The Rare Books Shop-- Sunday

Can I tempt you with words?

Would you like some tea?

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