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and watch how you play

Who: Aziraphale and the Crowleys (Anthony and Alec)
What: A picnic with chaperone. The ineffables have been having memories of each other and Alec is determined to keep them from destroying their lives over it.
When: May 11, noonish
Where: New York Botanical Gardens
Rating/Warnings: None--if Alec has his way.

It was a chilly, dreary day befitting Aziraphale's mood when he woke up. No hangover, thank goodness, but he did sleep in, which meant his morning was spent in a rush acquiring the necessary goods for the picnic.

He packed a selection of cheeses and a baguette, crackers and a fig compote, some grapes and small oranges (and wasn't this getting heavy now), and a bottle of red wine (because Anthony had shown a preference for it and it certainly fit with Aziraphale's). It was turning out a little fancy and a tiny bit romantic, unfortunately, but then again...weren't all picnics (that weren't children's peanut-butter-and-jam sandwiches and riddled with ants) a little romantic? That was the nature of a picnic.

(Oh, but was that enough food? Maybe he would pick up a few sandwiches on the way, just in case. And some cake.)

But this would be a nice, friendly picnic between two Friends and allies and they could discuss Aziraphale's memory. It hadn't even occurred to him that Alec might have mentioned any part of Aziraphale's conversation at the Gala to Anthony--mostly because he'd spent the better part of the morning trying to prepare for a picnic he probably should have just cancelled. But he was determined to keep this completely normal. They were adults. They could sit there and be civil and talk about things without being weird.

This was healing, right? Making his peace with the fact that the emotions stirred by memories were not reality?

Aziraphale, bundled in a warm coat and a nice scarf, arms just a little tired of carrying the picnic basket, paid for his own admission to the gardens since he had already been planning to come for the art event, and sent off a text.

I'm here! Do not rush on my account.
Is there any place in particular you would like to meet?
I'm afraid it did not warm up as much as I had hoped.

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Aziraphale took an innocent, almost apologetic, sip of his wine. Hadn't he once swore to himself he would never let Anthony live that down? And he intended to make good on that. Besides, there was something utterly charming about throwing Anthony off his game of coolness and ease. Underneath that beauty and swagger was a man, awkward and endearingly messy with faults. Anthony was human, and all the more lovable for it. Aziraphale had been so caught up in his adoration until now, he hadn't really had much of a chance to know Anthony, and he intended to now.

He looked down his nose at the finger jabbed at him, of half a mind to bite it for its audacity, and gave another slow considering sip of wine.

"No? I thought devils employed lawyers."

Warlock was the name of the boy-- his mind unhelpfully reminded him.

"You know, though," he said, putting down his glass and rustling into the basket to pull out the plates and their assortment of foodstuffs. "You may be onto something. A pact with the devil could explain the centuries-old friendship we've seen referenced." His nose wrinkled as he smiled. "Does that mean you own my soul?"

"Not all lawyers surely... ambulance chasers, the criminal sect... ok, maybe most lawyers."

When he thought about it the profession did seem to attract more evil than was reasonable. In fact there was only one group of workers who seemed more prone to devilish acts than lawyers.

"And politicians. Clearly every single last one of them has sold their soul to someone."

The neatly wrapped little package he picked up was very obviously a sandwich but Anthony didn't know which kind until the protective paper had been pried away. It looked good, but the suggestion he might some how own Aziraphale's soul sent his stomach into a turn that very nearly had him packing the morsel back up in it's paper.

"Or... maybe you are just a time traveling wizard. Would we really be friends if I had taken something as important as that from you?"

He frowned, embarrassed to realize he'd only now thought of it. "I suppose it might be prudent to mention I did study law." Though he agreed. Lawyers and politicians. Truly some of the most consistent evils the world had to offer.

"Oh, Anthony." That kind of quiet fear hadn't been his intention at all, and Aziraphale realized that until they had this sorted out (at least; though maybe forever), he would have to be very careful teasing about the whole demon thing. Anthony had taken it to heart, and he had to wonder if Anthony was keeping to himself any of the more terrible details of being damned. Putting down the box of crackers, he reached for Anthony's face and cupped his narrow, bony cheeks in hand. "I suspect, if you had it, my soul would have been given willingly, like one gives a heart."

But that was sentimental speculation, and he wanted to offer Anthony more concrete evidence. What might their memories hold to reassure him?

There were two warring sides of himself. The side that hated the idea that he would be connected in any way with anything evil or sinister as he didn't want to go around hurting people or snatching their souls from them. And then there was the other side which felt a tug of mischief any time it was suggested that he might be a demon. The side that actually had been smirking and dreaming up some snappy reply when Fell brought up that he had studied law.

Both sides were brought to heel by Aziraphale's touch as Anthony's eyes drifted closed for just a second, to enjoy the feeling of those warm hands on his cheeks and to savor the notion that their new romance was powerful enough to freely give a soul away.

"You've a way with words."

His own hand landed on one of Aziraphale's just to guide the palm towards his lips so a thank you kiss could be pressed into the middle of it.

"You're right. I'm being silly about it. We don't know anything about what happened before. We only have these bits and pieces that don't make sense out of order. Maybe it was something like that, a token of love. Can demons even feel love?"

Sometimes. Sometimes he might have a way with words, other times he was a tittering idiot who was tripping over himself. But Aziraphale took the compliment with as much grace as he could manage, the blush deepening with the kiss to his palm.

And then everything seemed to slow to a stop.

Aziraphale knew what he felt in the memory, or he thought he did. Love, a healthy dose of fear, which he had attributed to fearing for Anthony's existence and the whole secretive nature of the exchange. What Anthony felt was a mystery. His eyes had been hidden and his expression had been surprised, somewhat soft and touched... Aziraphale had understood the feeling to be mutual. But was it love? Or was the demon only thankful to have the thing he had wanted for one-hundred years? Was it simply friendship or business? Had that moment in the car been one-sided?

What a fine mess they had thrown themselves head-first into.

"I... I don't know."

"Eh, they must do."

Anthony decided while releasing Aziraphale's hand so the pair of them could return to the task of unpacking the picnic basket. He briefly wondered if there were any apples in there but as the topic of demonic love was still very much on his mind he decided to issue his own thoughts on the subject.

Clearly as a demon he had hated the idea of being thought of as 'nice'. Demons were apparently not nice. Who would have ever suspected from all of those stories about their evil and sinful nature. Nice is a four letter word. But love is also a four letter word. Maybe demons hated being associated with it just as strongly. This did not mean they couldn't feel it of course. If he was clearly a 'nice demon' he might also have been an 'in love demon'.

These were very deep thoughts and eventually Anthony shrugged and issued his own conclusion.

"If they didn't I wouldn't have been so tempted to snog you senseless when I had you alone in that corridor."

No apples. It hadn't been a conscious decision, but in retrospect maybe it was a wise one; neither of them seemed to need more means of temptation. They accomplished that fine on their own.

But was that love?

"It it seems funny to me that a demon might be tempted. I'd have thought it was the other way around--you doing the tempting."

With the spread of food laid out before them, he popped a few grapes in his mouth and thought over the concept of demonic love. How would it present itself? Was it fickle, lustful, covetous? And then there was Anthony's sentiment that their kiss or their love confession felt like a first. Couldn't a demon as powerful as the serpent of Eden have anything he wanted?

He meanwhile had tucked into his sandwich. It was, in his opinion, the best way to find out what was hidden underneath the bread.

"Its supposed to work like that. I mean I would assume it works that way. You never hear stories about Eve tempting the serpent into sharing a bite of apple with her."

That would really have flipped that old story on its head. Anthony smirked over the idea, thinking it a fun else-world type story.

"I don't really have many memories about the rules of being a demon other than you aren't nice and... break as many of them as you can. Also 'go cause trouble', that was running through my head during the whole Eden thing."

Anthony took another bite of sandwich and tilted his head at Fell.

"What about you? Do you remember any of the rules of being a magician?"

The garden turkey sandwiches on nice whole-grain bread were from a local deli and they anything terribly fancy, since Aziraphale hadn't had a lot of time to pick them up this morning. Nor had he been sure what Anthony preferred and felt erring on the side of caution to be the best idea. But they would do, he felt.

He shrugged. Just because it was written down as the serpent tempting Eve didn't mean that was exactly how it went down, but if Anthony said he had tempted Eve, he would know best.

"Not really," he admitted, trying to recall what the magic academy's admission letter said as he opened up his own sandwich. It would probably be a good idea of eat something before he drank too much more wine--no need to have a repeat of the Gala and get drunk after only a few glasses. "I'm not sure there were... rules. Go to class, and that sort of thing, I guess. I have a feeling I was neglecting that part. Return your library books on time. Don't use your magic on other students. Don't destroy the school or endanger the town. Behave. Typical school rules."

He settled happily with a wiggle of contentment as he enjoyed a bite of his sandwich.

"I don't think I was doing what I was supposed to be doing, but whether that was exactly against the rules or not, I'm not sure."

It was a simple sort of sandwich but satisfying. He wasn't as in love with the concept of turkey sandwiches as the Americans were but paired with the lettuce and the other fixings it tasted wonderful. Or... maybe it was the company. Here they were talking about these deeply personal feelings and past life experiences and all he could do was grin at Aziraphale like some kind of love-struck fool.

It was that wiggle of contentment as he enjoyed his meal. The cute little smile as he found the taste dancing over his taste buds. His own sandwich grew forgotten as he sat there and lived vicariously through the contented wiggling.

"Did you ever find out what that magic circle was about?"

There were certainly better sandwiches to be had, but he was short on time, so turkey had to do the trick. And he quite enjoyed it, in the pinch, and it was so very American, turkey. He still didn't find an appeal in the bird as a whole centerpiece dish--a good ham or roast was infinitely better--but it made for a quaint American sandwich.

He barely even noticed his own wiggling, it was such a part of his own dining experience. But he did notice Anthony looking at him and it put him on the spot--cheeks blushing pink and eyes looking away. Oh, goodness, he liked those eyes on him.

"No, I got so far as drawing it out on my floor and making myself note cards with the words I expect are required." He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "But that was just a couple of days ago, after Elliott posted about his own powers, and so I haven't given it a try yet. Thought it might be a dangerous endeavor."

Which was, in a way, alluring. Aziraphale licked his lips. "I'm not sure I can produce results, but given that exploring powers seem to be in the en vogue thing right now... If you're not busy in a few days," he said, not anticipating the further upheaval of their lives this week, nor how testing his magic would suddenly be the farthest thing from his mind (because surely a called off engagement was the strangest their week could offer), "you're welcome to come over while I test it. We could make an evening of it? A nice wine, a little dessert, a bit of hocus pocus?"

There was something endearing about that too. The napkin dabbed at each corner of his mouth even though he hadn't eaten a thing that would have been messy enough to require cleaning up. There might have been, what, a stray crumb or something? It was terribly posh!

"You are inviting me over for a magical evening?"

Anthony chuckled, low and almost wickedly as that too sounded posh and... a touch forbidden. They would be meddling in the dark arts, something that Anthony knew deep down would be dangerous as they had no idea what they were doing but it was also highly inciting.

"I've never done that you know, dabble in the occult."

His smile gained a touch of a lopsided smirk, anticipating the evening with barely contained excitement. He nearly wiggled himself!

"It's a date. Just text me the when and where."

He also couldn't have anticipated their magical evening would have to be put off.

Should I for some reason not invite you over, he thought. We're in this together, for one, and who better to share this with than the man who has just professed his love to me. And frankly, if it didn't work, they could have a good night drinking and ...whatever Anthony might be interested in doing, be it interesting conversation, or dessert and a bit of telly, or ...what was the popular terminology? Netflix and chill? If they were going to do this, they should spend more time together.

And if it worked, he wanted Anthony to be the first to see--assuming nothing went wrong. It felt...right, especially with Anthony looking at him like he might just agree to get into trouble together. Co-conspirators, maybe. Friends, definitely. The magic scared him, but it also sounded so fascinating.

"No?" he said, teasing with more casual confidence than he felt. Of course, neither of them had dabbled in the occult. "Alright, I'll let you know when I'm ready. And it can be our first." He primly picked out an errant tomato slice before it could fall from his sandwich. "Dabbling, I mean."

There was nothing wrong in the idea at all. He could go for a good Netflix and Chill, maybe with a large bowl of popcorn and a convenient shoulder to snuggle up against. It just... well, seemed a bit fast really. Anthony had always been a bit of a speed demon when it came to cars but when it came to relationships this was the fastest he had ever moved. Engaged one second, then getting swept away by all those too powerful feelings, ready to run away with a man who held rogue sandwich tomato like it were made of fragile glass.

There was a touch of trepidation just below the surface, like the fluttering of butterfly wings, but the rest was all too exciting and desired. He felt rescued. Freed from a comfortable mistake so he could be swept away in a torrent of passions. Heh, and here he had always thought those romances where that happened to the characters were cheesy. He understood the feeling completely now.

"I'll dabble in anything you feel up to dabbling in."

He patted around for his sandwich only to discover he had devoured during some moment of timeless staring, so he switched for the wine instead, to have sip and to follow it with a few grapes.

He hadn't meant to go so quickly, but there was just something so freeing about being around Anthony now that he didn't have to bottle up this flood of emotions. It was like he told Alec earlier: sometimes it was fine enough when they were apart. He could sensibly, rationally look at his relationship from a distance. But then he would see Anthony, with his charming smile and his beautiful eyes and his brilliant hair... And something affectionate would rise up in Aziraphale's chest. And now it didn't need to be restrained and tethered anymore.

Must be what driving on the autobahn with no breaks and no reason to stop would feel like.

Someday soon they might need to have a serious talk about, well, dabbling and other things, since they weren't experiencing a normal progression of a relationship where these things might have been expressed before being quite so enamored with each other. But for now, he was going to enjoy the chance to have Anthony all to himself.

He blushed and failed to smother a smile at having the innuendo thrown back at him. "Oh. Good lord, that sounds indulgent. Just... drink your wine. I don't want to send you back to work hungry. The point of this was lunch."

One wouldn't have had any guess from the very cool and not at all desperate way in which Anthony had handled his confession that he felt the very same way. After speaking to Alec he had come here thinking to break off this... confusing whatever it was he had going with Fell that had him inviting the guy out for picnics and searching for him in the Gala crowd when he ought to have been perfectly content with Grace. It was leading the man on, giving him too much to hope for, and the last thing Anthony had wanted to do was hurt him. Only when the time came for it he had found himself blurting out the opposite. Away from Fell he could be a reasonable person, able see the path a 'normal person' might take, but when Fell was around he was a total fool. This lovely obsession was something he needed to dive into completely.

And the idea of dabbling made him far too giddy. Yes, back to the wine... do try not to think on that too long.

"We should do this more often. Lunches, picnics... dinners."

Outside the patter of rain began to soften, perhaps soon it would stop entirely leaving a brilliantly washed garden for Aziraphale to enjoy.

"I'd like to take you around to my new favorite exhibit. I found it very inspiring."

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