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[demonicmiracle]

Hey, it's Anthony Crowley. You know what to do, do it with style.

Comments

text, mine

[undiagnosed]

HEY ASSHOLE I LITERALLY JUST GOT HOME

so anyway you wanna get a drink?

[demonicmiracle]

Have a nice stroll, did we?

Sure. You got money to pay for drinks or...?

[undiagnosed]

yeah my nerve damage got a real stretch

i do
and you are having none of it
no rounds are on me

[demonicmiracle]

Isn't exercise good for those sorts of things?

Wasn't asking for you to buy me a round, only wanted to make sure I wouldn't be footing the bill

Where are we going?

[undiagnosed]

oh please i have SOME class
doc holiday and bar its like the only place that does anything

[watch him lurch past that first question with all the grace of a cow on ice.]

[demonicmiracle]

Yeah alright, can't be worse than the non-alcoholic bar at the damn Christmas village

See you in 20?

[undiagnosed]

sure take forever whatever dickhead

[archer is already there, when crowley arrives, quite clearly already a few drinks deep. how he did that so quickly is anyone's guess, but-- whatever, mood, right?

crowley will have to ask where archer is; he doesn't bother to greet the ex-demon himself.]

[demonicmiracle]

[He doesn't bother gracing Archer with a reply, because he doesn't deserve one. He just shows up roughly twenty minutes later, ordering himself a Boulevardier and asks after Archer.

Once the drink is ready, he finds his way to the table Archer's at, sliding unceremoniously into the seat across from him.]

You don't look too worse for wear.

[After his walk home. The poor dear.]

[undiagnosed]

Ugh. They seriously let you in dressed like that? [he sneers, taking a long drink. archer is, as usual, doing pretty alright despite everything that's happened - being stabbed comes to mind.] Guess this place has shitter standards than I thought.

[it's half-hearted bitching at best.]

—XMAS GIFT (from robbie'd!Ray).

[handycapable]

[ On Christmas morning Crowley (and Aziraphale) will find a gift-wrapped package on their doorstep, containing a Tiffany-style (a reproduction, don't worry) stained glass angel lamp, with a card: ]

you kick miette?? you kick miette like the football???

[demonicmiracle]

[For about thirty seconds, Crowley is actually kind of excited about having received a Christmas gift from someone other than Aziraphale, but that quickly falls way to disappointment when he reads the card and actually opens the thing.

It's... surprising, to say the least, he really didn't think this was the sort of shite that Ray would pull, but he puts it aside, determined to enjoy his Christmas, even if it's an odd one.

Boxing Day, though, with the creepy snowmans gone from the yard and everything feeling oddly peaceful, Crowley decides to take a drive over to Ray's. There's a wrapped present sitting on the passenger seat, though he hasn't decided yet if he's going to actually give it to Ray.

He leaves it in the car as he walks up to the door, knocking a bit more gently than the last time he was here.]

[youtuber voice] I Was Threatened,

[handycapable]

[ Ray answers the door, looking perky and untroubled by all his usual grievances, wearing a flour-dusted half apron and holding a cigarette in his good hand. His eyebrows raise, smile hesitant for a moment, but then quickly growing bright and sincere. ]

Oh, it's you! Come in, come in.

[ He steps out of the way, letting the door open further. ]

What can I do for ya?

[demonicmiracle]

[Crowley looks a little confused by that perky smile, glancing down at the apron Ray's wearing. It's all a little off, just not enough to really pinpoint what's wrong.

He'd come here planning to call Ray out, but he feels a bit uncertain about it now that he's here.]

Hullo, you're uh, looking well.

[It almost sounds like a question, but he comes inside anyway, pausing by the door to take off his boots rather than tracking snow through the house. He's not an animal.]

Just thought I'd pop by, wish you a Merry Christmas. Whatcha baking?

[handycapable]

Oh, yeah, I feel great. Don't you just love Christmas?

[ Still smiling, Ray bounces away -- well, as much as he can in leg braces -- back toward the kitchen, gesturing with a sweep of his arm to invite Crowley to have a seat. ]

Such a shame about that big ol' storm, though. Here I was holdin' out hope maybe my family'd make it up to see us, y'know, they still haven't even met my wife yet-- [ Bustling around, then he looks back over. ] And I figured today I'd just keep things simple and throw together some brownies. If I don't get rid of all this chocolate before the New Year, I swear I'm gonna-- oh, wait, where are my manners?! Can I get you anything? Some coffee?

[demonicmiracle]

[He follows Ray with a hint of trepidation that quickly grows to outright worried confusion, though he's sensible enough to keep it off his face, smiling pleasantly when he's addressed.]

Erm, nah, it's alright, I won't keep you long. Avery's determined to try making babka, and I'd best not leave him alone in the kitchen too long. He sends his best, by the way.

[He wonders if he should check in on Ellie, see if whatever the hell this is has her acting weird, too.]

cw the world's most bizarre internalized homophobia?? I guess...

[handycapable]

Oh, uh, right. Your husband. [ Ray laughs, a bit of a nervous edge to it. In an oh, you sort of tone: ] You two sure are unconventional, I dunno how you get away with it. I mean, your marriage can't actually be...

[ It's said in that well-intentioned-(maybe)-but-concerned-politeness gossipy Southern housewife kind of way, a little hushed, fascinated and conflicted. The brownies go into the oven and then Ray swans over with tea cups and kettle anyway, pouring one for Crowley, then himself.

He stage-whispers: ]

Legal, can it? [ He looks concerned for a moment, genuinely, then sips his tea. ] Oh! Did you two get my present? How did you like it?

WOW RAY

[demonicmiracle]

[That laugh instantly puts him on edge, which is probably a good thing, because it stops him from reacting too obviously to the next thing that comes out of Ray's mouth.

It's hardly the worst thing anyone's ever said to him, and it's almost laughable in a way, considering that humanity's hang ups about sexuality are the least of the reasons they can't be together.

He takes the cup of tea on autopilot, like he does whenever Aziraphale makes it for him. He doesn't drink it, though, suddenly worried it might be poisoned or something.]

I'm not a man, Ray. Remember? [He says it simply, as if that doesn't open a whole other can of gender worms.] And it was very — thoughtful. Thanks.

[It's a little sarcastic, that thanks, but maybe Ray won't notice.]

Actually, I got something for you. Left it in the car, I ought to go grab it...

[It's a polite excuse to put his boots back on and get the hell out of this house. Maybe he can just hand the present over and then bail.]

text

[undiagnosed]

can i tase you?
it's for science

[demonicmiracle]

You can't really think I'd say yes to that.
Who gave you a taser?

[undiagnosed]

it's in my TACTLECAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE
i got it back somehow!!!

[demonicmiracle]

And what is that, then, some spy gadget nonsense?

[He thinks that's so fucking cool but will not admit that to Archer.]

[undiagnosed]

yes it synchs to my brain waves and shoots people also
side note
can i beanbag you
important distinction from teabag

[demonicmiracle]

No, you can't beanbag me or tase me or shoot me.
Why not try it on a local? Pretend it was an accident and they'll likely forgive you

[undiagnosed]

I wasn't going to tell you this but there's a slight chance the taser would stop your heart

Okay
Amendment to my last question,
Do you want to come and get drunk and laugh at whoever I manage to shoot in the balls with this beanbag?

[demonicmiracle]

Then absolutely not. My husband would kill us both.

I'll say yes to watching you beanbag someone else, though, sure. Now?