fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

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The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

The little winged god wasn't in tonight so it fell to Musubi to fill in for him.

She amused herself by artfully arranging a few umbrellas as if she was doing so with flowers. This bartending was an easy enough job, but it still seemed beneath her.

[[ooc: Around but slow, please mod Musubi if you want quick service!]]

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The umbrellas made for a pretty arrangement.

Squall settled in at the end of the bar and ordered a bourbon, a scotch, and a beer.

It was late when Wilson got off duty at the clinic but at least it had been a quiet night.

Hopefully tomorrow would be equally as quiet.

Wilson wasn't sure how much sleep he would be able to get before having to head back to the clinic, it all depended upon what sort of night Aziraphale had, so he decided to stop by the Nest for an Irish Coffee.

Alcohol and caffeine all in one shot, how could you go wrong.

Nodding to the geshia behind the bar -you get to a point where you just don't ask anymore- he said.

"Irish coffee, extra shot of espresso, double whip cream."

Alcohol, caffeine and sugar...yum!

There was a doctor in his club. One with out an angel attached to him.

This, of course, drew Lucifer's attention.

"Dr. Wilson."

Wilson turned, his lips attached to the rim of his mug which basically meant that when he lifted his head, he had an utterly rediculous looking whip cream mustache under his nose.

"Lucifer, it's late."

....

Yes, it was all together possible he was being fretful about the Prince of Hell being up past his bedtime. Wilson was a bit strange.

And had he been a lesser being, he would have laughed at the poor doctor. Instead the corners of his lips simply twitched in an attempt to not smirk at him.

"Is it? Then shouldn't you be at home, in bed?"

Taking a moment to chase down the whip cream with the tip of his tongue -hey no sense wasting good whip cream!- Wilson picked up a napkin and mopped off the remaining cream, blushing a bit.

"Just got off duty at the clinic. I go back in," Wilson contemplated his watch. "About 6 hours. Usually it's easier just to stay up."

Well, that was the way he was going to play was it?

Lucifer took a seat next to him at the bar, signaling Musubi to bring him a drink. "I see. Busy work at the clinic?"

But, it was such fun play!

Wilson lifted the mug to his lips giving the rim a quick swipe with his tongue as he sucked up some more whip cream before chuckling softly.

"Blessedly no in terms of patients but we had three of our staff leave at graduation and so there is only 5 of us to cover 14 shifts."

Such a tease. Lucifer made a note to test out his wings soon.

"I do hope you aren't working yourself too hard."

Wilson was going to have to invest in duct tape to keep his fingers to himself.

"You and Aziraphale could sing a duet," he said a little ruefully, sipping his coffee and sitting back against the bar.

"Back when I was in practice it was unusual when I didn't spend more time at the hospital than at home. One of the reasons I tanked 3 marriages."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "And now you choose to spend your time out of the clinic here instead of with your angel?"

Wilson tilted his head, peering at Lucifer from beneath impossibly long eyelashes.

"Is that a hint of disapproval I hear?" He said softly.

Figuring that Lucifer wasn't likely to dignify that question with a verbal response, Wilson looked back down into his coffee.

"You know how so many doctors struggle with what's called the God complex? Our arrogant belief that if we just keep at it we'll fix ... anything. In my specialty you learn real quick just what you can and can not fix and you either learn to respect those lines or you burn out."

Rolling the mug back and forth between his hands, the ring on his finger clinked softly against the ceramic and Wilson eventually sighed, tiredly.

"I'd love to think I could just walk in there, sooth his brow and make it all go away, Lucifer. But that's not possible. He's wrestling with insecurities and questions about himself, his own Faith and just what the Plan means and he has been for months now but he hates to show that uncertainty in front of me. So he'll force it down, play it off, use my pressence as a way to distract himself from his own demons and if he keeps doing so it will grow into a festering sore that will eventually poison him."

Reaching up, Wilson rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.

"So, I give him space and time. I'll go home here in a little bit and stay up with him. He won't want to sleep for fear of the nightmares, he'll fuss at my staying up but in the end, he'll want to be held and have me read Oscar Wilde to him and I just need a couple cups of coffee in the meantime."

"I wouldn't dream of judging you, Dr. Wilson. I simply wondered why you would spend your time here," He smiled politely at Wilson. "I see that your actions and those of your partner are none of my concern."

He stood, not sparing a glance toward Musubi, who was setting down his drink on the bar. "Goodnight doctor."

That...caught Wilson by surprise and the polite smile cut more like a knife than a frown.

Before he thought about what he was doing, he reached out to catch at the Advesary's arm.

"You're right. You asked why I came here which I did not answer. I apologize." He said softly, looking up to Lucifer's eyes.

"I came here because I enjoy your company and I find this place ... soothing."

Lucifer looked down at Wilson's hand on his arm, staring at it emotionlessly.

"I see." His face softened so it no longer appeared to be made of stone. "But I must ask you to remove your arm now. I find myself in need of some solitude."

Forgiveness was given, but the slight was not one to be forgotten.

Wilson wasn't entirely sure where he'd stepped wrong but he could tell he had and removed his hand, as requested.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, since it was obvious he had said or done something to upset Lucifer which ...

Which he realized was something he genuinely regretted, perhaps even more so than he realized he would.

Turning back towards the bar, he set his half finished coffee down and then folded his arms on the bar rail before he lay his head down on them, shielding his face.

Sit!

Dance!

Bleh!

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The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

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Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

Re: The Bar - Laaaatttteeee

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The Lounge

The Dance Floor

OOC