lt_safe_house | Someone left SOMETHING in my bar!

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Someone left SOMETHING in my bar!

Date: April 30, 2003
Status: Public
Setting: The Bar
Summary: Joe finds Ishtar's leftovers

Joe came down to the bar whistling softly to himself. He had slept comparatively well the last night and was therefore in a rather good mood.

His eyebrows went up as he saw that someone had left a box on one of the tables.

Someone had scrawled a message on it in red - lipstick?

Uppers, downers and shake-em-all-abouters.
Help yourselves.
Ishtar.

A glance inside showed him an assortment of things that he doubted were legal. Now what to do with them? He certainly would not leave them where someone could find them. the right thing to do probably would have been notifying the authorities.

Something, however, stopped him. He had the impression that bringing down a drug raid on the manor was not the wisest thing to do.

He moved over to the dust bin to dispose of the box there for the moment.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They are, what with all the wars," Gabriel admitted, biting his lip. "And not all angels' wings are white. Raphael, for instance, has fiery-red wings."

He stood and stepped back from the bar stool slightly, and there was a slight ripping sound as his large, blue-tinted white wings unfurled through his robes, which promptly sealed again.

"I know," Joe said. "About Raphael, I mean. But for him, red seems to fit very well. And those are quite beautiful," he added, indicating Gabriel's wings. "But say - do you always rip your clothes when you unfold them?"

Duncan had tried quite a few things to get past the nightmares that invaded his sleep every time he closed his eyes lately. His latest idea of trying to sleep in the day, in the light, had proven just as futile as any other.

He needed a drink to wash the taste of the dream out of his mouth. Badly.

Thus, he quickly threw on a T-shirt and went downstairs to Joe's bar, looking almost as rumpled and and sleep-deprived as he felt.

As he walked into the bar, he gaped for a moment at the sight of Gabriel, wings out in full splendour, facing down Joe.

"What is this?" he demanded to know. "Are you threatening Joe?"

Raphael? Joe knew Raphael? Gabriel was just about to ask about his acquantaince with the Healer when Duncan entered and interrupted, and he had to bite back his smile.

"Why would I threaten him? He was curious about my wings, that's all."

Apparently the bar was a popular location these days, as Aziraphale had decided to finally leave off the demonic texts in favour of drinking away the headache he'd gotten from them, only to find that Duncan fellow walking in not far ahead of him.

About to turn around - Aziraphale felt awkward around people (who weren't Crowley or Baraq) when drinking, and anyway if the bar was crowded he didn't want to be an inconvenience, and most importantly Duncan seemed to be worried Aziraphale was going to break in two (how sweet, if a bit insulting, the poor dear) - when he heard Duncan demand if Gabriel was threatening Joe.

Oh dear. Not that Gabriel couldn't take care of himself, but Duncan seemed to be a bit on the violent side and it seemed best to help calm everyone down.

He walked over and peered into the bar. Gabriel had assured Duncan he meant no violence, and Aziraphale decided to work off that. He tutted and strode forward. "Gabriel my dear, you oughtn't have your wings out while they're in such a state," he said fondly, "When was the last time you preened them?"

He knew well enough by now that Gabriel wouldn't let him preen them, but still, best to make it sound like wings were normal things as opposed to signs of warfare.

Gabriel blinked, surprised. He hadn't thought they were that bad, but it was hard to reach the roots yourself. And he didn't think he would ever let anyone else touch his wings.

"This morning, actually. Surely they aren't that bad?"

"The parts you can see and reach are just fine," Aziraphale said soothingly, resisting the urge to start preening near the roots, "but near the roots is simply a mess. You'd best put them away before I start plucking out the dead ones I can see from here."

There was a rustle of feathers, and then Gabriel was a normal wingless human again.

He had nothing against Aziraphael, but the Principality could probably guess why he didn't want anyone else touching his wings.

Aziraphale smiled at this and looked to Duncan and Joe. "Hello again, sirs. How fares everything down here?" He let his gaze linger on Joe so the nice young bartender would know he was being addressed specifically. "Anything interesting I could try? Oh, and what manner of payment do you take? The, ah, other bartender was a bit vague on the topic."

"Because he was standing there wings out, practically towering over Joe," Duncan said as he slid into a barstool.

He glanced at Aziraphale. "How are you? Is the other one leaving you in peace?"

Visibly amused at McLeod's antics, Joe reached out for one of the menus he had had printed and prepared. He placed it in front of the latest newcomer with a wide smile. "Here you go," he said. "Both my offer and my prices are in there. I take regular coin, like any other place."

As he went over to the beer tap to draw a glass for McLeod, he addressed Gabriel: "They're particularly impressive when they're clean and shiny like that," he said. "Do they actually carry you in flight?"

"Thank you," Gabriel smiled. "And yes, they do. You sound as though you've seen wings that aren't clean and shiny, though."

And hadn't this man mentioned Raphael earlier?

"A couple of days ago, that Raphael came stumbling onto the grounds," Joe told him. "He looked thoroughly chewed up and rained-on. His wings were a mess."

Had Duncan and Atlan cleaned him up so well that the other angels had never realised?

"You let Raphael in and helped him?"

Gabriel leaned over the counter, reaching for Joe's hand to shake it in gratitude. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Joe said, slightly perplexed. "I did what everyone would have done. Duncan and the white-haired guy, Atlan, patched him up as much as they could. I think those are the two you should thank."

Before you grab my hand and almost throw me off balance, he added silently. People never realised how easy that was exactly.

Gabriel turned to Duncan. "Thank you," he repeated sincerely, holding out his hand. "He's like a younger brother to me. I've healed him as best I could, but I'm thankful for your aid as well."

Aziraphale gasped, looking at Gabriel in shock. "Raphael?" he demanded. "As in, the Archangel Raphael? Here?"

He hadn't seen his mentor in ages, and what was this about him being injured? Once Gabriel confirmed or denied that this Raphael was the correct one, Aziraphale would go see him.

"Yes," Gabriel answered, smiling slightly. "How many other Raphaels are there in Heaven?"

Aziraphael had been close to Raphael, he knew; the Healer had been like a mentor to him. Gabriel nodded towards the door. "He's in Room 110. He's a little weak at the moment, but I think he'll be happy to see you."

Aziraphale just nodded his thanks, stood up and quickly walked from the bar, making a beeline for Room 110.

Duncan took Gabriel's Hand.

"There's this other guy, Atlan. Tall, white hair but looking no older than I," he said honestly. "He had quite a hand in healing your friend enough to let him pull through the night I'd say. More than I did."

"I'll keep an eye out for him. Thank you," Gabriel smiled. "It helped, or I'm not sure I could have done anything in time. I've healed him the rest of the way, and he's resting now after Michael and I made him eat."

"Ah," Joe said, "So even an angel must eat, eh?"

He busied himself behind the counter.

"I'm glad to hear he's going to be okay. He looked terrible last night. Tell him he's welcome here anytime."

"In Raphael's state, yes; he's weakened. The rest of us have more control over our human corporations. I choose to feel hungry at appropriate times."

Gabriel nodded. "I'll pass on the message. Thank you."

"And, erm," Duncan said, "would you remind him I still have that feral animal of his in my room? He might want to come get it."

Gabriel nodded. "Of course. What do you mean by 'feral'? He said he had a rabbit."

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