fandomtownies | The Park, Thursday Morning

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The Park, Thursday Morning

Since Wilson had class and office hours Thursday morning, Aziraphale decided to spend some time reacquainting himself with the park. Maybe it had only been a little over a week, as time passed in Fandom anyway, but it seemed like ages for the angel. He had a feeling there was a long list of people he was going to need to talk to anyway -- how could such nice kids get into so much trouble over the course of only nine days? -- and a little quiet time on his favorite bench first was an attractive prospect.

Not that he wouldn't be terribly happy to talk with anyone who happened by.

[ooc: Stop and chat, or use the park for your own nefarious purposes. Some intermittent SP may occur.]

~~[ETA: I've got to be AFK for a few hours, but will return to pick up threads again around 9:00PM EST.]~~

[ETA #2: I'm back, but on dial-up, so please be patient.]

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Due to much fussing and scolding on the part of a certain young doctor, Aziraphale had made himself comfortable sitting sideways on the bench, his wings unfurled and stretched slightly to take advantage of the morning sunlight. He'd gotten quite a talking-to over the myriad cuts and bruises on them, and instructions to keep them out and let them heal in the air and sun.

So that was exactly what he was doing. As well as drinking tea and working a crossword. Because tea and crosswords are also excellent healing remedies, especially for tired angels.

Once again, Mercer couldn't remember what he'd done with himself for a good part of yesterday. Once again he thought a morning walk might help clear his mind, or help him sort things out.

But he certainly couldn't help noticing the winged man sitting on the park bench, nor could he explain the irrational impulse to flee at the sight.

[OOC: About to leave for work -- will be busy when I get there, but SP is the word. :)]

Aziraphale noticed the man walking nearby, and looked up from his puzzle with a smile.

"Good morning," he said cheerily, seeing a bit of hesitation in the man's step and hoping to put him at ease. "Lovely day to be out, isn't it?"

[ooc: No worries, SP is love. Drop me an email if there's anything in particular you'd like Phale to pick up on, btw. :)]

Someone was in his bench. AGAIN. But this someone had wings. It appeared that the angel was back. Good, perhaps that would keep Wilson from engaging in the occasional hysterical outburst.

Lucifer walked over to the bench, looking at the object in question and then back up at Aziraphale.

It was his bench, damn it.

[[ooc: SP is love during finals week]]

It wasn't likely Lucifer could get very close to Aziraphale without the angel noticing. He looked up, and gave the Adversary a pleasant smile.

"Good morning, my dear. Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

He shifted on the bench and moved his feet so that Lucifer would have room to sit down. After all, it was polite to share, and Aziraphale never minded having people join him on his bench for a chat.

Lucifer took a seat at his bench and observed the angel's injuries up close. "I would be delighted."

Producing a second cup of tea, Aziraphale handed it to the other man, trying not to feel too uncomfortable at the inspection of his injuries. After all, Wilson had told him how nice Lucifer had been to the young doctor during the angel's absence, so he was feeling rather inclined to think favorably of the Adversary.

"James tells me he's been spending rather a pleasant time at your club lately," Aziraphale said, by way of making conversation.

Finishing his inspection of Aziraphale's injuries, his eyes darted briefly to the wings before he took a sip of tea.

"He's stopped by, yes," Lucifer replied, not commenting on whether or not it was pleasant.

It was apparently pleasant for Wilson at any rate, and no offense to the Adversary, but that was really Aziraphale's only concern. Although he wouldn't have been in the least bit surprised to hear that Lucifer had enjoyed the company as well.

Raising an eyebrow at the glance at his wings, Aziraphale nodded. "We didn't have any idea how long the assignment was going to last. It isn't so much the being apart, it's not knowing anything about where or how long. And...well, this is a rather important time of the year for the two of us. I was afraid I would miss it entirely."

He smiled a bit at something Wilson had told him, and added, "I understand he found himself some company to enjoy the first snow of the season, at any rate."

"It is, yes." Mercer's agreement was sincere, if halting, and like yesterday he looked as though he hadn't gotten any sleep. "A little cooler than I'm used to."

The cold did, in fact, seem to be affecting him more immediately than normal, soaking into his body in an almost reptilian manner. He wasn't sure why.

Still looking at Aziraphale's wings with a touch of confusion and intrigue, he added half to himself, "The redheaded girl told me this place was diverse, but I had no idea . . ."

"Care for a cup of tea?" Aziraphale replied immediately, in response to the remark about the cold. There was something odd about the man, and not just in the strange hesitant mannerisms. It was if there was something inside him, a darkness, just barely held in check. It worried the angel a bit, and he decided it might be a good idea to find out a bit more about this stranger.

"Oh yes, Fandom's a terribly diverse sort of town," he agreed. "Which redheaded girl would that be? I must assume you're new here, are you one of our new businessmen, or just here for a visit?"

There was no comment on the wings, just a hint of longing from Lucifer.

"He did." Lucifer smiled into his tea. "Asked me to escort him home in a very cunning attempt to get me outside and enjoy the snow."

Aziraphale saw that smile, and looked away across the park with a smile of his own.

"Oh, quite. He's very good at that sort of thing. Talking you into getting out and enjoying yourself, even when you don't mean to. I wish I'd been here myself, but I'm glad he was able to share with you instead."

He fell silent for a moment, thinking about what strange situations Fandom could put one into, where one found oneself sitting on a park bench enjoying a cup of tea with one's sworn enemy. Put things into perspective, really.

"Are you enjoying your retirement so far, then?"

Mercer's hopeful expression at the mention of tea was answer enough, although he didn't neglect to nod and say "Yes, please."

Uneasily, he settled himself on the end of the bench, rubbing his hands together. "Visiting," he said. "I had potential business opportunities on the mainland, and I'd heard a bit about the school here so I wanted to see if there was any opportunity on the island, or possibly anything I could contribute to the school. I -- I didn't always do right by my son, and I'd like to do something to make up for it."

Thinking back to the previous few nights, Lucifer smirked. "It has been... Interesting."

"One of your students asked me if I was trying to get in your doctor's pants," Lucifer said, waiting for Aziraphale to take a sip of tea before speaking.

Promptly holding out a cup of steaming tea for the man, Aziraphale nodded sympathetically. If the fellow was trying to hide that odd presence within him, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Almost as if perhaps he wasn't aware of it himself.

Schooling his expression carefully to avoid seeming unfriendly, the angel looked curiously at Mercer. "Is your son a student here, then? I teach at the school myself. Oh, do forgive my manners -- my name's Aziraphale." He set aside his crossword and offered his hand. "What sort of business are you in?"

Well, he was evil after all.

The pause had its desired effect. Aziraphale snorted a bit of tea up his nose in his attempt not to spit it across the bench onto Lucifer instead. Which possibly would have served the devil right.

"One of my...why on earth...I beg your pardon?"

It wasn't evil. Just very very mean.

"One of your students, Blair I believe, asked what my intentions were toward James." Lucifer calmly sipped his tea. "I assume it was because he is a teenage boy and is therefore a bag of hormones."

"Er...quite," Aziraphale replied, with a little cough as he banished the tea from his nasal passage. "Well, I...did ask Blair to keep an eye out for James while I was away, although I had more of an idea that he might help keep James's spirits up."

The angel's eyes narrowed just slightly as he looked down the bench at Lucifer. "I'm certain it's just as you say, though. Teenage hormones."

And possibly Blair's experience with his mother's rather flighty tendencies, but Aziraphale didn't mention that.

Lucifer couldn't help but roll his eyes. Why did everyone assume he wanted the mortal?

"I'm not interested in your consort," He said, humor lacing his voice.

"Mercer," he replied, shaking Aziraphale's hand tentatively after he took the tea with a nod of thanks. "Anton Mercer. My firm specializes in scientific and technological research, though someone seems to have beaten me on cornering that market."

He turned the cup in his hands. "My son, Trent, is at art school in Blue Bay Harbor; I resisted letting him go for a long time, and I'm sorry to admit our relationship wasn't at its healthiest for quite a while. I understand two of his friends are out here on the East Coast, though -- the last I heard from him is that Kira Ford is in New York, and Conner McKnight is going to school somewhere here in Virginia. He . . . wouldn't happen to be here, would he?"

Well, Aziraphale really couldn't understand why everyone didn't want Wilson, but he was probably a bit biased.

"Oh no, of course not!" he quickly assured Lucifer. "I didn't think you did. I'm certain Blair is just being...well, I'm not certain what put it into his head, but I'll find out when I see him. Perhaps it's just him being over-cautious."

He smiled, and then added, "And speaking of consorts...I hope your lady friend is well?"

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Mercer," Aziraphale replied with a reassuring smile. It was curious that the man was so tentative, and he wished he knew whether that was a general trait or if it had something to do with him personally. And he couldn't help but feel a little suspicious -- as unfounded as it may have been -- when the man asked about Fandom's students.

"Yes, Mr McKnight is enrolled here. He isn't in my class, but I have met him once or twice. Very nice young man. I'm certain I could pass along a message to him, if you'd like. I'm afraid visitors aren't allowed on campus without special permission."

"Mazikeen?" Lucifer smiled slowly. Her jealousy of Wilson was making for very interesting nights after the bar closed. "She's doing well."

"Could you? Tell him I --" Mercer froze, every muscle in his body going rigid for a moment as if he were fighting something down -- which would, of course, be exactly what he was doing. His face went pale -- to the very attentive observer, almost seemed to flicker and take on a reptilian cast for the briefest moment -- and his knuckles white around the cup of tea.

The moment was over almost as soon as it had started, and once it had passed he shook his head, then nodded. "Yes. Tell him I'm here -- that it's just like old times."

He hoped Conner would understand the message.

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