fandomtownies | The Park - Christmas Night

Wilson sat quietly on the bench down by the pond a small loaf of bread in his hand. If there were any ducks who were not part of the small feathered army or particular to liver, he was feeding them the bread.

The young doctor's expression was guarded, resigned really to a course of action that though he and House were aware was right, it still weighed on Wilson like a lead weight. It had not been the holiday he had hoped for. He missed the hospital. He missed all the little gifts the kids used to give him, even though he'd always liked to mutter and complain about yet another apple, pen or tie. Still, he missed it. He hadn't expected much from Fandom. People didn't know him as well here as they did back in New Jersey and besides, the whole being Jewish they probably thought he didn't celebrate the Christian holiday.

At least House had done well. Any other year the diagnostician would have been crowing gleefully over his haul and lording it over the oncologist but not this year. Things were too broken this year. Wilson knew he was going to have to go back home soon, make it official so to speak, pack up his little suitcase and head somewhere. The Arms probably, at least through the New Year then he'd figure out what to do next.

Merry Effing Christmas.

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A terrible shriek is followed by a loud slamming door and the little angel beats her wings hard, flying into the park. Not far off she smelled the fun man, the one so full of Grace, and she changed direction. WIthout warning, she landed in front of him, climbed onto the bench, and curled up in his lap, quaking.

He'd been caught in his own mental musing and had barely registered the shriek and the slamming door but when she appeared in front of him and then climbed up into his lap, obviously distressed, Wilson quickly put aside his own troubles and wrapped his arms around the little angel.

"Little one." He crooned softly. "What's wrong?"

There was concern in his voice both for her and also, growing concern for Phale and by extension Crowley. Had something specific happened to the demon, something that in turn had upset the angel and sent Maggie to him?? Wilson wasn't sure but for the moment he had an armful of quaking, upset little girl -to his eyes- and so he did what came naturally, hugging and soothing her with soft, nonsensicle words.

Nuzzling close and wrapping her skinny arms around his waist, she cranes her neck so she can look up at him.

"Coo, coorrooo daadaa. Daaddaa corrooo dadada. Cooo ooroocooroo. Dadda. DADDA!!" She sounds angry to the point of tears and harshly insistant about whatever...or whoever...dadda is.

Stroking her back in gentle, rhythmic circles Wilson reached to straighten a couple of the striking feathers as he tried to put together her lack of English and obviously upset flailings.

It wasn't hard to figure out who 'Dadda' was and at first Wilson felt a stab of fear that something had happened to the angel but then, as it became clear from her tone that she was 'angry' rather than 'frightened' he realize this must be a tiff.

But...a tiff about what?

"Shhhsss... I'm sure whatever it is he's done, he didn't mean it to upset you Poppet." Wilson soothed gently. "Aziraphale wouldn't do that."

Backing up a bit so she can look at him better, her expression is a mix of disgust and exasperation. She sighs heavily and gestures with her hands as she explains the situation.

"Cooorooo, coo coooooroo daddaa crooroo cooooocoooroo. Daddadadada cooroo. Coo?"

Blinking at her, Wilson did...what he always did here in Fandom and matched together his knowns and pitted them against his unknowns in a desperate bid to understand.

It was obvious that Phale had some something to upset the little inspector and since there was a very small lift of what those things could be, Wilson tried to address it in open terms.

"He may have unorthadox methods, Poppet but look at the chaos he's had to deal with all these years? Adaptation is essential in such an environment...in order to still be able to do the goal of the job."

Agitated, she waves her arm at the shop, "Daddaa, cooroo, da. Coo cooroo dadada!"

He could tell that this was quickly going beyond your average peeved state but it didn't dawn on him that Crowley could be back, at least not quite yet.

"It's a little hard to understand you when you're upset like this, Poppet. Could...hmmm...has Aziraphale done something particular to upset you?"

Maybe yes or no questions would help?

Nodding sharply, she gives him an empahatic "Croo!"

Wilson felt a shiver of fear dart through him at her admission and for a moment he feared for his friend.

He wanted to stammer that perhaps it was just a ... misinterpretation of the situation but he wasn't going to insult her intelligence like that, so instead he eyed her sadly.

"This place...it calls for the unconventional...can't...can you not just trust him? Look at all the good he's done, Poppet...please?" He begged her softly.

Blinking slowley, a look of supreme annoyance on her face, she shakes her head softly. Arching an eyebrow, she has the most sarcastic...and eerily familiar tone.

"Cooroo."

Blinking back at her, Wilson smiled gently and pointed out.

"I thought angels weren't supposed to get annoyed?" He chided her softly before he sat back and watched her.

"Maggie... I don't know what you want me to say? Aziraphale has been a great help to me in a time in my life when I've been ready to turn my back on the world. I thought that was part of his doing his job?"

She ought to have known better than to try to discuss this with a mortal. There was no way he would understand...even if he could grasp what she was saying.

Instead, she tucked in close to his chest, feeling his mortal warmth and watching the surface of the pond.

"Cooooooooo."

The Park - Christmas Night

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