ARGH EVIL. Livejournal being a bitch again. >.>

Title: Eire
Rating:
Summary: Crowley, Aziraphale, oddly-colored likker, and a Very Green Holiday.
Disclaimer: Notmine.



"And then I said, I said t'him, 'Paddy, m'boy, y'gotta do something... something...' er... What was the something?" Aziraphale asked, sipping his whiskey.

"Interesting," Crowley stated.

"No. The other."

"...Miraculous?"

"Yeah. That. Told him to do somethin' mirky-- miracululu-- that." Aziraphale punctuated this with a single affirming finger, which weaved through the air. Crowley's eyes tried to follow its path, then crossed.

They both had a gulp of whiskey. "Told him that 'e should do somethin' to make them LIKE 'im. Can't go 'round preaching at them for no reason. It'd be like. Like. Like something."

"Did they laugh?"

"Who?"

"Them. The people. The preachy people."

"...The pope?"

"No. Nonono. T'other. Being preached at."

"Right. Yes."

"What?"

"They laughed."

"Oh. Go on."

"So I said to him, I said, 'Paddy, m'lad, you gotta get rid of something the people don't like."

"Hastur. I don't like Hastur," Crowley supplied helpfully.

"Hastur wasn't there."

"Right."

"So 'ee was like, 'Mice?' And I said, I said--"

"What will the kitties eat?"

"YES!" Aziraphale nearly stabbed Crowley in the eye with his finger. "That's exactact-- exit-- excit-- just what I said. And so 'ee went and got drunk and I guess 'ee had a dreamy thing, 'cause the next day, guess what 'ee goes and does." Aziraphale smacked the table for emphasis. It took him another try before he actually hit it.

"What's he do?" Crowley leaned forward, fascinated.

"He gets the brill'ant idea to go an', an' banish... SNAKES. All the snakes. Goned. No more snakes." Aziraphale nodded rapidly and tried to take another drink at the same time. "Banish them like a... banishy thing."

"All the snakes," Crowley confirmed.

Aziraphale nodded. "They're cold blooded, are snakes."

"I know." Crowley sat back with a thump and glared at the table. "Bastard."

"What?"

"'s all your fault."

"What is, m'dear?"

"IT BURNS," Crowley shouted at him, suddenly agitated. Aziraphale blink.

"Burns?"

"He didn't have to go and do that!" Crowley sulked, and poured himself another glass of liquor. "It's all burny now. So pretty, always liked it there, I did. And then you go an' an'...Do that thing. There weren't any snakes in the first place."

"It was a thingy. Whatsits. Meddlefur. What he was ACTUALLY doing was exterminatinging the... things. With the robes and the Stonehenges."

"Druids."

"Them, yes."

"Yeah?"

"Fact. Got rid of 'em like rubbish. Bye-bye, druids." Aziraphale giggled. "No snakes there in the first place anyway."

"'s what I said. How d'you 'spect them to swim the Channel? Hah!" Crowley said morosely.

"Druids, Crowley," Aziraphale contradicted. "DRUIDS."

"Druids don't swim the Channel either. Where've *you* been?"

"So he goes and he tosses all them away--"

"The druids?"

"Yes, the druts. I mean druids. Says he got rid of all the snakes too." Crowley glowered. "What?"

"It burns me when I get near it. Eire."

"Fire? It is generally rather burny, is fire."

"Nonono. EIRE," Crowley said relentlessly. "With the... the men in skirts and nothing beneath. And the three-leafed whatsits. And the beer. Green, you know."

"We're drunk already, you-- hic-- you old serpent. Oh."

"Right," Crowley nodded and downed his glass.

"Oh, Crowley. I'm sorry."

"'S nothing. It's only green, you know."

"What is?"

"Eire."

"No, fire isn't green unless you put--" Crowley glared at him again, this time with a bit of difficulty, because he was forgetting how to focus. "Right, Eire."

"Burns me when I try to go over. Feet blister for *days.*"

"Shoes."

"Don't help. Still burns like buggerall."

"My dear boy--"

"No green beer for Crowley," he said. "Think it tastes like green instead of beer?"

Aziraphale stared muzzily at him for a moment. "Smells like green."

"The beer?"

"Yeah. Bet it does."

"Bet it would be weird."

"Yes."