(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

Every hearth is crackling with a merry fire, and the scent of spiced wine and savoury dishes wafts out of the kitchen. Outside, the magical snow falls cheerily, covering everything over with a thick, fluffy layer of white.

Everything about this place today cries out home, even more so than usual.

It's Christmas Day.

Comments

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

"Terribly magnanimous of you, Crowley."

Aziraphael plops himself down onto the sofa next to the demon, taking very great care not to spill his mulled wine.

[talented-biter.livejournal.com]

Fidget.

Fidget.

Bounce bounce bounce.

"Glittew o' pwesents. One o' othew, Ber'd," desperately, "cannot wesist any longew!"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Presents, then." He stands and selects a few of Aziraphael's presents. "Here's one for... Sunny, with very pretty paper, and one for Crowley, and 'Dora, and me." He searches for a second. "And one for Aziraphael from me."

He hands out the gifts. Aziraphael's package contains an insane multitude of bookbinding supplies: bone folders, beeswax, thread, needles, PVA, awls...

Adam told him he did some binding. Bernard remembered.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael is utterly delighted with his present, so much so that he almost misses the eager unwrapping and reactions of everyone to the presents he's put together.

Sunny has three variously sized packages.

Bernard has one small, because the angel is ever hopeful that he can be converted, one even smaller with a mangled Marlowe quote on the tag (and it's entirely possible he's not completely in the know as to what the gift is. One hopes not, at least). The third package would appear to be almost familiar in shape, but slightly bulkier in places than it ought to be.

For 'Dora, a small package and a slightly larger one, and it is the measure of his love for her that he makes no comments about her not being allowed to borrow his books for it.

And finally there are a few packages for Crowley. There's a squishy package which contains a black cashmere jumper that Aziraphael bought in Scotland, which he asked 'Dora to place a warming charm on. There's another, slightly smaller squeezable package, because he remembered. And two more rigid packages, because he's always had rather a fondness for it.


[ooc: Tonks' present from Lush is called 'my fair lady', for the curious]

[clumsy_auror]

"Oooooh, cheers, angel!" says 'Dora delightedly. "I am, I have to say, all about the baths these days so these are just perfect."

She leans over to kiss him on the cheek, and then hands he a Crowley a gaily-wrapped box each.

Inside Aziraphael's box is, foremost, a picture of him and 'Dora; it looks to have been taken roundabout the first Lake Party. They're seated on the grass at the water's edge, drinks in hand, laughing at someone off-camera. (Probably Crowley.) The picture is framed -- warm, light wood, just the sort of catch the afternoon sun and take on a kind of a glow. Underneath the frame is a photograph album with even more pictures of all of them -- wizarding, of course -- set in chronological order. All of the pictures are carefully labelled and dated, and there are several blank pages at the back.

Crowley's present contains a picture of him and 'Dora, also at the Lake Party, dripping wet and laughing as they emerge from the shallows after their flight. The frame is black matte, and very chic. Beneath that is not, outwardly, a photo album; it looks rather like a day planner, actually. And, indeed, were anyone but Crowley to open it, that's what they would see. But to his eyes, it's full of smaller photographs of their family, including a copy of the latest sonogram of Anthony.

[aj_crawley]

Aziraphael gets a ridiculously pleased grin for the jumper (though Crowley does manage to refrain from any public displays of affection), and it doesn't dim any as he opens 'Dora's present. He flips through it quietly for a moment, running his fingers gently around the edges of the photographs, both moving and still.

Eventually, he leans over and plants a kiss on 'Dora's cheek.

"Cheers, 'Dora."

Putting the photograph and the album carefully to one side, he shifts along the couch until he can reach the presents below the tree, and starts to distribute them.

Sunny gets a long, flat, rectangular package, one that rattles slightly as he hands it to her. To 'Dora and Bernard both, he hands another fairly large package - this one quite heavy - and, with a cheeky grin, he tosses Bernard another, smaller one as well. And finally, the box containing Aziraphael's present - though wrapped in the same paper, it is of rather more diminutive size.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's eyes are totally, totally bright, and if Crowley mentions it, he'll get a fist to the FACE.

"Thank you." He looks to the angel. "Although, where you found vibrating soap, I don't know."

He puts the box aside and stands, fishing at the back of the tree for one last gift.

The last bit is a rare, unexpectedly pricey apple mead that Bar thought up. That part is from her.

He hands the package to Crowley.

[aj_crawley]

Crowley, having a several-millennia-old drinking habit, is not slow to assess the merits of the decanter, and it gets a very appreciative grin. Together with the apple mead... well, Crowley knows what he'll be doing tonight.

[talented-biter.livejournal.com]

There are presents.

Sunny would be in awe of them, if she weren't shoving her presents for the demon and the angel at...the demon and the angel.

Paper drenched with glue covered in glitter.

Unique Spawklie Art.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

If Aziraphael is distressed at the amount of art showering his trousers, he certainly gives no sign of it. In fact, he's rather enjoying watching the expression on Crowley's face, from the corner of his eye.

He leans down to kiss Mug on the top of her blonde head.

"This is utterly delightful, my dear. It'll brighten up the kitchen no end."

[talented-biter.livejournal.com]

Gifts are meant to be given.

Hiss agrees.

That is why he hops over to Crowley, and drops something into his lap.

It's a dead mouse.

Hiss stares soulfully up at the demon.

There's the disturbing impression that the noise he's making are to the tune of, "Did I ever tell you you're my heeeero..."

[aj_crawley]

"Um," says Crowley, trying not to move. "Um."

He's trying to avoid the demon bunny's adoring gaze, and so is acutely aware that everyone in the room is just. staring.

The rabbity noises are excruciatingly loud, in the sudden and rather deafening silence.

You're everything I wish I could be...

It is, Crowley muses, as Hiss paws lovingly at the end of his trouserleg, kind of horrifying.

Oh yeah.

And there's a dead fucking mouse in his lap.

"Um."

[clumsy_auror]

"...I don't think I'll ever sleep again."

[talented-biter.livejournal.com]

Sunny just listens.





"Hiss off key," she observes.

What else is there to say?