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The Park - Monday Night

Wilson's day had taken him in one direction, while Aziraphale's had taken him in another. Not entirely unusual for the two of them but it just meant they were that much keener to make good time of the few hours they did get to enjoy together.

So, after a nice dinner of grilled cheese and soup, Wilson had suggested a game of soccer. Aziraphale had pointed out that the lobby was still recovering from their last game when Wilson pointed out that ... heeellloooo perfectly good park, full of leaves, just across the road.

They had bundled up, grabbed the soccer ball and with the boyish enthusiasm of two young men a hell of a lot younger than their combined age, they were now playing soccer, at night...in the park. At least, it started out as soccer, somewhere along the lines the added element of stuffing leaves down one another's shirts as they scrabbled for control of the ball became one of the rules.

Bonus points if you managed to shove your opponant into a handy pile of leaves on your way to making a goal!

[ooc: Open as a park likes to be open and Wilson and Phale's game of soccer is completely joinable if you happen to be out this evening and want some exercise!]

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This was one of the things that Aziraphale loved about being around mortals in general and Wilson in particular -- the chance to just let loose once in a while and forget that he what was supposed to be. So despite not actually being up on all the rules of the game, or even the finer points of playing it, the angel was having a grand time.

Possibly that grand time was also due to the fact that the young doctor always had the funniest reactions when he caught Aziraphale cheating. And the occasional 'accidental' spill into those handy leaf piles didn't hurt either.

"I thought your goal was supposed to be that bench!" he called out, laughing as he waved a hand toward a bench sitting near a little stand of young trees. "You can't accuse me of cheating if you keep things about!"

Wilson dribbled the ball just out of the angel's reach, one hand stretched outwards to keep the angel back.

"I can accuse you of cheating because there are now leaves down the back of my pants and I know you didn't physically put them there."

Kicking the ball towards one of the park's trash cans, Wilson threw his arms triumphantly up it the air.

"GOAL! Oh! Didn't I tell you, I also claim all trash cans as my goals." Hands on his hips, Wilson struck a snarky pose, then bolted for the now free rolling ball.

Aziraphale stared in astonishment for a moment, then took off chasing after Wilson. "I don't suppose you could be so kind as to give me a list of things that might be available for being my goal?" he asked, making an attempt to head the young doctor off in his pursuit of the ball.

"And I don't believe it is cheating, to use a skill I possess just because you don't. After all, you're better at that...little kicking back-and-forth thing you do with the ball than I am. So I should be allowed to do things that I'm good at."

Like...nudging the ball to roll in the other direction just as Wilson was approaching it.

Wilson had been just about to kick said ball and when the ball moved, he ended up doing the classic Charles Beige move complete with arms pinwheeling in the air before landing on his butt in...huh, wouldn't you know it, a pile of leaves.

"Ooof!" Wilson exclaimed.

"That little kicking back and forth thing is a learned and practiced skill...the stuff you do is like...breathing to you!" Wilson protested and as the ball now seemed to be making it's way towards the angel, that meant Wilson was honor bound to chase after his lover with a big arm full of leaves.

Conner knew the sound of a soccer ball being kicked around when he heard it.

You could even say it drew him like a siren song.

He made a beeline straight toward what looked like the pickup game in the park, bouncing like a little kid. This could definitely be therapeutic after the past few days, oh yes.

The angel might have made an exclamation that sounded suspiciously like 'Ack!' as he took off in the direction the ball was now headed, trying to get to it before the leaves got to him.

Which was when he became aware of the possibility of reinforcements. "Would you like to play?" he shouted to Conner, gesturing toward the ball. "You can be on my team!"

Yep, he knew that was absolutely going to earn him a shove in the nearest leaf pile. Strange how it didn't really look like he cared, though.

Flying tackle actually...which strangely enough left the poor little soccer ball on it's lonesome, if Connor would care to partake!

A few weeks ago, Conner might have been a little taken aback to see his teachers frolicking in the park and stuffing leaves down each other's shirts. A year and a few months ago, he might have been flabbergasted at the idea of teachers even doing anything like this, at all.

But after you'd discovered that your old science teacher had a secret high-tech lab in the basement beneath his house, and gotten to go to Las Vegas for a largely unsupervised weekend under these two particular teachers, a sight like this wasn't likely to phase you.

"Sure thing!" Conner whooped, sprinting toward the ball.

With an >ooof!<, Aziraphale landed face first in the leaves. "Ow," he muttered, more because he felt he should than because it actually hurt. But he scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, then held out a hand to assist Wilson.

Then with a grin, he took off at a run toward Conner, as he had the vague feeling that when one had a teammate, one was supposed to be of some assistance to that teammate.

"Our goal is...er...that bench, and those trees," he announced to Conner. "James has already claimed that other bench there, and all of the trash cans."

Feet skidding a bit as he got purchase in the leaves, Wilson darted quickly off at an angle to try to get in front of Connor and the ball. Circling around, he ran backwards, watching the ball. Obviously, he couldn't out and out tackle or play as roughly with a student as he could with Aziraphale, who was fairly indestructable over all, but that didn't mean that a little psychological warfare wasn't fair, right!

"Oh, I see how it is! Ganging up on me, meanies."

...

Okay, bad psychological warfare. Wilson darted in towards the ball, trying to kick it away from Connor's skillful dribbling.

. . . well, Conner's dribbling wasn't quite what it usually was, what with the leaves all over the grass and him not wearing cleats. But he still managed to do a nice little spin-fake move to elude Wilson's attempt before slipping and falling into the grass.

"Hey, you've got all the trash cans! That evens it out!"

Aziraphale hurried over to offer Conner a hand up to his feet, carefully keeping an eye on how close Wilson got to the ball. Honestly, Conner was by far the better player, and the angel was more than willing to let his teammate take care the actual ball-handling while he ran interference.

And speaking of interference, it did seem that he owed a certain young doctor a tumble in the leaves. Or at very least, a nice distracting shower of stubborn leaves that up to that point had been resolutely clinging to the trees.

"Have you tried to hit the trash cans?? I swear they move." And speaking of moving, as Wilson tried to dart forward a tree that had been stubbornly clinging to it's leaves, suddenly sneezed and the young doctor found himself in the middle of a damp leaf shower.

"What the..." He yelped, flailing at the leaves as they slithered down the back of his shirt.

"RAPHALE!"

Yep, thoroughly distracted!

"Thanks," Conner said gratefully, accepting the hand up. The interference, outside of regulations as it might be, was more than welcome and Conner darted back toward the ball.

Okay, maybe it was ganging up a little. But still, there were all those trash cans . . .

Seeing as how Aziraphale actually didn't know what the regulations were, he felt confident in being able to play pretty however he liked. And since they were claiming multiple goals, and tended to spend more time keeping the ball away from each other than even trying to score, he and Wilson were both pretty willing to let the rules slide.

The angel couldn't help but feel just a bit smug, though, about the fact that his chances for winning had just improved greatly. With a bright grin for Wilson's exclamation over the unexpected shower of leaves, Aziraphale nodded to Conner. "You're quite welcome, my dear!" he called out, as the young man headed toward the ball again.

Wilson, at this point, was more in the mode of tackle the angel than, take the ball...specially since Connor had all the proper and legal moves down.

So for the time being, Wilson contented himself with jumping up on the angel's back, a move that despite the young doctor's 165lbs did little more than cause Phale to take a step forward to balance himself. Course, then where was a large handful of dry, crackly leaves going down the back of the angel's shirt and being smushed about to ensure that Phale would be picking leave litter out of personal places for the rest of the night.

"Hah!" Wilson exclaimed, jumping back down and darting off after Connor and the ball.

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The Park - Monday Night

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