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Hey people.

[The man in the dark shades waved coolly at the screen as he sat on the edge of a small stone fence. It was freezing cold outside but in spite of the clouds that appeared whenever he spoke Crowley didn't seem to notice.]

We've all been brought here, had our powers taken and dolled out to us again in much smaller pieces... it's inconvenient, like being trapped in a baby walker... or trying to save the universe with your hands tied behind your back.

Point is, I need some volunteers who are skilled with Light magic, Healing magic, Animal magic, Kinetic magic and maybe another Elemental magic user who thinks they would be up to controlling sand. Think of it as training.

Also Angel, meet me on the Inn roof before midnight. Not sure it would work with an angel and a demon but if it does we could use some good luck for the new year.

[He doesn't know about the fireworks. Those are going to be a nice surprise.]

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So, yea, working on getting us a place.

[ Surprise, Angel?? Hopefully you like it?]

I wouldn't mind a housewarming gift as long as it's not fruitcake. We already have a decent doorstop.

Crowley....! You didn't have to do that! I could have helped.

And shush. I like a good fruitcake. Not that we need one, but it would certainly not turn into a doorstop, nor would we be ungrateful. And I know you have a weakness for cake, deep down. [At least if the angel is partaking of it.]

What we mean to say is, the answer is most certainly yes, thank you.

Edited 2021-01-07 19:22 (UTC)

[See, this is what happens when one leaves so many responses public. Plans get unveiled ahead of schedule, and a bloke can find themselves confronted with the possibility of receiving fruitcakes.

Perhaps it is fortunate that Walter doesn't plan on making a cake for the occasion. He's a practical boy.]

Excellent. I'll make my way there after I've secured your gift.

You did help. It was your idea. I was just expediting the process.

[ And making a gift of it. ]

Plenty of room for a library.

[ Crowley hangs back to let Aziraphale handle the niceties of the gift exchange. He is better with those things... and the angel was correct that a fruitcake would not go to waste in their household. Not even a crumb left behind. ]

You both need the address?

[ In just a second he shoots a text with the address to both parties. ]

[He'll get a text from a direct line rather than any account. Walter had been entirely truthful about not seeing a need for a username. He doesn't have one.]

Send it here.

[ Crowley gave a little smirk at the second angelic caller, 'got his private number, ha!' but sent along a message to the Private Direct Number too. It was for a little farm just outside of town on the road which lead back towards the white cliffs. Easy to find!

Aziraphale would receive a similar address text. ]

[It's a few hours later when Walter shows; an adolescent of still somewhat short stature carrying a neatly wrapped box in his hands. The box has a bit of weight to it, but he handles it expertly.

Correct road? Check. Little farm? Check. Looking like it could use a little care? He's sure he has the right place.

He'll just be heading to that front door now to give it a good knock.]

[ There was a crash and a muffled swear before the door slowly swung open to reveal a rather tall, slightly disheveled demon, leaning against the doorframe. ]

Hey, you found the place.

[ He stepped aside to allow his guest to enter. The small cottage was full of old dusty pieces of furniture and junk in boxes which had been left behind by the former owner or whomever the former owner had purchased the place from. It all looked as if it had been sitting there for a while. ]

It's nicer out back.

[So much dust. Walter instantly makes a face at the sight of it, the spectacle offending his butler sensibilities.]

...I should have bought you a duster.

[Who on earth or... anywhere, really, would let a house go this far to ruin? Unless they were bombed out of it, and the cottage, so far as he can tell, does not look as though it has been bombed recently.]

How long was this place abandoned?

There may be one...

[ He gestured towards the pile of stuff that was there. ]

Some where. Apparently it was the guy's late Uncle's. He thought to take over the place and turn it back into a working farm without thinking about how much work that would be. I never asked how long it had sat abandoned but it's supposed to have a good roof. That was just replaced last year.

[ No leaks was the most important thing anyway. ]

Good.

[No leaks in the roof is indeed very important. Along with things like working pipes and good wiring for those houses wired for electricity.

Magic might be able to replace the lighting but there's really no good substitute for functional plumbing.]

Now, I believe introductions were in order?

[The English youth extends the gift; a box a little over a foot tall and a foot wide.]

Walter C. Dornez. A friend of mine, Li Min, is one of the chaps that offered to volunteer to help with those training tasks of yours. Please do give me a call should something go awry, and try not to run him ragged.

[There's a good quality tea kettle inside the box. No house is a proper home without one, as far as he's concerned.]

Friend of yours, that explains the interest.

[ And almost explained the creepy shadow games. If Walter were trying to protect some one... well, Crowley had been there.

The package was taken and torn into during the introductions. There wasn't a better present anyone could have given Aziraphale. Doubtless the angel had been aching for a way to brew a decent pot of tea since they arrived and really so had Crowley if only to watch Aziraphale happily sipping away at a cup. ]

Crowley.

[ He said while heading over to the only clean spot in the house to set the teapot in the middle of a table where it was sure to be seen as soon as Aziraphale arrived. ]

Nice gift. I'm sure we didn't already have one of those. And don't worry, you're friend will be fine! All I wanted him to do was heal a few plants.

That's good to know. I don't have many friends.

[So, naturally, he worries about the ones he has suddenly and unexpectedly acquired. The news that he was only wanted for such minor tasks is a comfort that instantly melts away some of the stiffness in the boy's posture.]

Are you looking to start this farm up for yourself, Mister Crowley?

I'm not doing it for Santa Claus.

[ The venom in the demon's tone was was barely present even if the reply had been a smart ass one. The snark was difficult to contain and simply came tumbling out sometimes.

Besides! It wasn't like he could say Aziraphale wanted a place so I got him one. That was FAR too soft! ]

I needed something to do. It's not like I'm going to become a Knight or anything...

What about you? You end up with a job... hobby, or anything?

[There's nothing wrong with a little snark.]

My job carries over to this place. Unfortunately, it doesn't pay anything, so I've had to use other means in order to eat something aside from the breakfasts we're provided.

[He shrugs, nonchalant.]

I'm limited in side-jobs, too, thanks to my age. And practically all of them seem to involve dealing with a lot of people during hours I'd normally be using to rest.

[The daytime. He means the daytime.]

You know what a job that doesn't pay anything is called?

[ Its a ripoff, for one. ]

Why not quit? Is there any reason to keep doing a job if you aren't getting anything out of it?

[ And if it was making him as tired as it sounded. ]

[An answer to the first question is on the tip of his tongue before Crowley follows it up with the second and third; a job that doesn't pay anything is a duty. A four-letter word, perhaps, for a demon.

The humorous response never makes it past his lips, caught in silence as the youth stills, all traces of levity falling from his expression.

His gaze is far away.]

...I get something out of it.

[ Duty was definitely a four letter word, some where below Nice but some thing he still tended to avoid when he could anyway.

Then the tone of the room shifted. There seemed to be no real reason for it, a cloud hadn't floated over the sun and the temperature hadn't suddenly dropped, but Crowley knew he had stepped into the middle of something. Should he ask about it? Probably not... it wasn't really any of his business. ]

Staying for tea? Might as well test out the new teapot...

[ And if the kid wanted to say what was up, well, Crowley wouldn't stop him. ]

[The demon won't ask, and Walter won't tell. It is a deeply personal matter, after all.

The change in topic is a welcome one, and he follows it without hesitating, regaining his prior focus as though nothing had happened at all.]

Kettle. You can use it as a pot if you like, but it's good for putting on the stove.

[In comparison to a normal teapot, which one definitely didn't put on the stove unless they wanted to damage it.]

[ Kettle. Crowley looked to the pot now held in his hands and turned it over like it was taking a moment for this new information to sink in. Not much of a chef really, Crowley. ]

Stove, right. I can do that.

[ But first he made his way over to the sink to fill this kettle with water. Replacing the lid he flicked on the stove and set the kettle on top to get all toasty. It might have been faster if he had lit a fire under it, magically, but the stove needed a test run anyway! ]

You better like basic tea. Its all I have here.

I'm from 1944. As long as it's not dirt masquerading as tea I can make do.

[If he can make do with those Yankee cigarettes, he feels like he can deal with just about anything. C'est la vie, with war and rations.]

A simple black tea done well is perfect anyhow.

Ah. I passed through 1944. Should have slept through it...

[ There had been so many grim happenings in 1944. Crowley set about readying a few cups to distract himself from that while the water boiled and soon after that he set the tea in to seep. Not too much longer after that they had a pair of teacups filled with fresh made tea. One of these was handed over to his very first house guest. ]

[As noisy as 1944 has been, he thinks with a touch of humour, could the demon have slept through it even if he wanted? That would be a pretty impressive depth of slumber. Something to rival even his partner.

He takes the offered cup with a bittersweet smile. That asshole partner of his... he's going to have to give him a right earful when he sees him again. Right after he takes care of that damned werewolf.]

Thank you.

[ Having slept through an entire century before napping through a year or two wouldn't have caused him any trouble at all. ]

I'd drink it before you go thanking anyone.

[ He might not like the taste or something. Crowley took a long swig of the tea of his own making and pulled a face when he found it quite weak indeed. More seeping time was needed but maybe his guest liked weak tea. ]

1944 to here. What do you plan to do in Camelot now that you are here?

[Walter likes his tea strong, but he won't complain too terribly. Weak tea is better than scalded tea, which might turn out to be the case with how early the demon put the leaves in after taking the water off the boil. Better to drink it sooner.]

I plan on training with this new magic we've got with combat in mind. I was in the middle of something when I ended up in the lake, and if I end up back there without my original abilities and a weak magic in their place...

[He shrugs, lifting the cup to his lips to take a long sip. The ending to the sentence is easy enough to guess.]

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Apologies! I didn't get a notiff for this one!

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Sorry for the wait! I've been a bit drained lately.

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