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Current Location: bar

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(no subject)

Date: March 17, 2003 (?)
Status: Public - Gabriel, Aziraphale, Belial [Complete]
Setting: The bar
Summary: Gabriel ~~is dragged to the bar by Aziraphale~~ brings Aziraphale to the bar to try Belial's chocolate mousse.

Gabriel was very amused by the look on his fellow angel's face.

Aziraphael was evidently torn between staying with the books in the library and trying Belial's chocolate mousse, and although he could see that the other angel was currently having trouble not dragging him to the bar, he still looked slightly conflicted. Gabriel frowned slightly as he led the way to the bar. Angels could sense lies, to a certain extent, and he could sense that Aziraphael was... not outright lying, perhaps, but hiding something, giving evasive half-truths and avoiding issues. He had a feeling that Aziraphael hadn't been completely honest about the reason for his being there, in particular.

Still, it probably wasn't anything too important. He was sure he'd be told eventually. Perhaps Aziraphael was still a little unsure about how much he could tell his superior.

There was something strange about Aziraphael's aura, a hint of demon around the edges, as though by association. It reminded him rather vaguely of Belial's aura. Had Aziraphael been around a demon? He bit his lip. Evidently he would, sooner or later, have some questioning to do.

He paused at the entrance and gestured to Aziraphael to enter first, smiling. "Welcome to the bar." He followed the Principality in and looked over at the bar counter. "Belial?" he called out. "I have an angel here who claims that his chocolate mousse is equal to, if not better than, yours. Surely you won't stand for that?"

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Aziraphale started at the touch on his shoulder. Right. He shook his head to cut off his train of thought - he and Crowley could have a nice breakfast in the morning to make up for Aziraphale spending the night out. That would likely make him feel better.

"Oh, just. Thinking too much. A tad homesick, that's all. Thank you, dear." Aaaaand he just referred to One of the Seven Who Stands Before the Lord as "dear." Aziraphale looked forward to not visiting the library for at least a week.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Had the Principality just referred to him as 'dear'?

Perhaps that was more commonplace these days, though.

"Homesick?" His eyebrow was in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "Are you referring to Heaven or London, may I ask?"

Aziraphale was still red from his endearment slip-up, but if Gabriel wasn't going to call him on it, he certainly wasn't going to call HIMSELF on it.

"Oh. Well, both are... well, obviously Heaven is Home of course, but having been stationed on Earth for so long I've long come accustomed to the ache that not being there has put in me." To the point where he honestly no longer felt it unless someone pointed it out, like right now. "On the other hand, I spent a lot of time in my bookshop in London, so to leave..."

He smiled as cheerfully as he could. "But! It's nothing a little wine won't fix, to be sure."

"I understand, dear." Gabriel said straightfacedly. "I will admit, though, that occasionally the beauty of Earth can almost surpass Heaven."

He fiddled with a tiny hole in his jeans; the kitten's claws were surprisingly sharp and he could evidently be fierce if his tail was pulled, however gently.

"Ah yes. The demon is also located in London, am I right? Doesn't that affect your work? Do you see him often?" If he fought regularly with the demon, his aura would have shown signs of it; yet he could not sense anything of the sort.

Aziraphale considered discorporating this body out of embarrassment. At least Gabriel seemed to be a sport about it, so maybe he could avoid the library for two days instead of a week.

Usually Aziraphale could easily lie about Crowley and their "relationship" or whatever it was, but yet, in the presence of two beings who would likely not approve said relationship, he merely stammered out, "Yes. Demon in London. Thwart his wiles all the time, I do. Crafty, well-informed adversary he is, but Good always prevails in the end, of course."

Aziraphale really, really needed that wine.

Belial had propped his chin on his hand, watching Aziraphael. He'd taken a moment to retrieve a lovely, sweet and fragrant bottle of port like the angel had asked, and turned the bottle in his free hand, chilling it with his fingertips.

An angel, lying -- and not very well, at that. Perhaps there was something interesting here, after all.

"His wiles?" Belial asked, amused, sure that the lanky little demon the angel had been been pinballing about with in the lobby didn't have a decent bit of proper malice in his whole body.

Didn't smell enough like violence -- and anyways, he wasn't even important enough for Belial to have remembered his name. He'd had a pretty enough face, but there were enough fair faces in Lucifer's entourage that Belial had grown bored with perfection.

He quirked one eyebrow. "I'm sure you do. Terrible things, demons."

Aziraphale was under the sinking suspicion that the weight of everything was coming down on him at this very moment, as he was starting to tremble slightly and was stammering like a young, guilty child. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. Yes, he was tired; yes, he was in danger; yes, he had been uprooted rather abruptly; yes, he was now in the company of two beings who could kill him easily (although only one of them would likely find cause to). He would not have a panic attack. He simply wouldn't. He willed his corporation to agree with him.

He put on his best smile. "Crowley - that is his name," he explained to Gabriel, "actually is quite good at his job; he tends to think very broadly, attempting to tarnish millions of souls at a time instead of damning one soul at a time. In fact, if not for me, I dare say most of London would be Damned by now." Me and Crowley's ridiculously short attention span, he admitted to himself.

He stared at the wine bottle Belial was twirling. "And I meant no offense to you personally, of course, Mr. Belial. But... well, I'm sure you bear no great love for angels either. You understand."

There. Nicely recovered. With a little wine and chocolate mousse he should be back to normal. Also, that wine looked downright delicious, and Aziraphale made a mental note to bring down his trade when he got the chance.

The Principality was stammering. And trembling. Even if he wasn't able to sense that the other was not being completely honest, Aziraphael's body gave him away.

The other angel seemed to have recovered himself and was speaking normally. Perhaps the best thing to do was wait for the angel to get some wine in him and loosen up a bit more.

"Well done," Gabriel murmured. "Might I ask how you save those millions of tarnished souls at one time?"

Aziraphale smiled at the question. "Oh, it's simple really. I do my best to undo the damages when I can, and influence humans to do the thwarting themselves, so that they grow stronger from it." He also distracted the demon, in theory, but it really wasn't distraction anymore, was it? Oh well.

"But! That is neither here nor there, as until things settle down some I doubt I'll be doing much human-influencing. In fact, I'm actually excited to be around people," he nodded to his two companions, "who know what I am. ... ... and have wine and chocolate mousse!" he finished with a grin.

Belial placed two bowls of chocolate mousse on the bar counter, and poured the fragrant port into two beautiful crystal glasses. "Bon appetit," he murmured, smiling at Aziraphale, nodding to Gabriel and disappearing into the backroom.

"Merci," Gabriel responded, picking up his spoon. He smiled at Aziraphale. "I'm sure you won't mind postponing business for a while?"

The aroma of the chocolate was heady and alluring. Gabriel took a tentative bite and almost moaned. Belial had certainly not been lying; it was smooth and silky, and the taste was indescribable; almost heavenly, and yet there was just enough bitter dark chocolate to prevent it from being cloyingly sweet. He had tasted many things during his travels, but nothing had come close to this.

Aziraphale nodded and thanked Belial, feeling both disappointed and thankful when the demon vanished, giving his two patrons some privacy.

Aziraphale smiled back at Gabriel. "It's not as if we're on official business anyway," he replied, "so we can postpone 'business' for as long as you'd like."

Aziraphale took a spoonful and did moan. It was just exactly what he needed - it felt like getting his wings rubbed - it was utterly and absolutely perfect, and exactly what he needed to boost his spirits.

While 99 percent of his mind was indulging, the remaining percent had to admit that Belial's mousse was better than his. Oh well - it's not like mousse was one of Aziraphale's specialties anyway (or so that one percent insisted). Some day he would share his chocolate caramel ice cream cake.

Gabriel couldn't help but laugh when Aziraphael moaned. "So, Aziraphael, is his mousse better than yours?"

He took another unbelievably wonderful spoonful, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss, before sipping some port and sighing.

How did humans come up with things like this after creating atrocities like overboiled cabbages?

Aziraphale finally remembered he had company, so he put down the bowl in order to stop himself from eating it and ignoring Gabriel. "I did speak too soon, I'm afraid. It must be a specialty of his. I don't think I've ever had chocolate mousse this good before!" He took a sip of wine. "I will have to come back some time and cajole the recipe out of him. Chocolate mousse isn't one of my own dessert specialties, but I do have others that I might be able to trade him in return."

It was nice for Aziraphale to be here with Gabriel, of all angels. After all, thousands of years ago, Aziraphale had been the one to introduce Gabriel to the wonder that was "xocolātl" while turning in his report. The Archangel would certainly sympathise with why Aziraphale had since learnt to create his own dessert delicacies.

He picked up the bowl and took another spoonful, sighing in bliss. Maybe spending time here wouldn't be so bad after all.

"He did tell me that it was a speciality of his," Gabriel smiled. "Other dessert recipes? I do hope he tries them out; I wouldn't be averse to being a guinea pig, of sorts."

He took another blissful bite, remembering his first taste of the newly discovered foodstuff called 'xocolātl', brought to him by Aziraphael. And here he was, centuries later, enjoying chocolate mousse with the same angel. It felt strangely fitting.

Sipping more port, he smiled and settled down for a peaceful tea (if one could call it that, seeing as how there wasn't actually any tea present; Gabriel didn't particularly like tea) with Aziraphael. Yes, business could certainly wait.

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