One More Day Part I
Title: One More Day
Pairing: Chastine
Rating: PG-PG13
Disclaimer: I own the book... but that is about it. Amillia is mine though!
Summery: He carried around a lot of things, but among his arsenal was a hat
A/N: My first Constantine fanfic, let along my first chastine work. So be nice? Plus, I want to
know if I should continue this or not...
Being morbid wasn’t a feeling for John Constantine, it was a way of life. There
were a few items that he always had on him at all times these days: Holy water, crosses, various
demon repellant items, new lighter (just because he kicked the habit didn’t mean he didn’t need
one, the damn thing had saved his life many times before), a pocket bible, and some gum (his
NEW annoying habit, but at least this one didn’t give you cancer, but he was sure scientists
would soon prove it did over the years. It seemed everything gave you cancer in one way or
another these days.) But what one failed to notice is the newest item he carried with him, a hat.
He never wore it, but it stayed in the pocket of his jacket at all times. This may not seem
strange, especially when you are talking about THE John Constantine, until you hear who the hat
had belong too. Chas Kramer, age 17, died by the hand of an angel now turned human way
before his time. Most people just wrote it off as one of his weird quirks and left the whole thing
alone. Midnight, Angela, or anyone else that knew had never brought it up, and to some extent
John was glad about that. He kept it there for about six months before some dared say anything
about it, and on top of that it was by someone he didn’t even like.
Coming home after a exorcism he quickly entered his apartment, sensing something was
wrong. Usually the wards he put up were enough to keep out any intruders, but it seemed one of
those damned creatures got in anyway. Sitting in his apartment drinking a glass of the rum he
kept around, was a girl. She was normal enough: light brown hair, grey eyes, ripped jeans, and a
faded white shirt and jacket. That was, if you didn’t pay any attention to the pure white wings on
the creatures back.
“Took you long enough John, I’ve been waiting for you. Then again you were always the
kind to keep higher up powers waiting on you, instead of the other way around. Oh well, you
already knew that so you don’t need my to point out the obvious.” she said, sitting from the glass
lightly.
“ Shit, they just had to send you didn’t they Amillia? What the fuck do you want?” he
growled, pulling the other seat at the kitchen table up so he could sit down.
“Well you are just the same ray of sunshine aren’t you?”she sarcastically retorted, “it has
been decided by unanimous vote that I am one of the few angel’s out there that can actually talk
at you without thinking of willingly giving up and letting you just descend....”
“Yeah I get it, not what do you want?” he growled, already getting aggravated at her
presence
“You just have never implemented manors have you?” Amillia muttered to herself and
looked him dead in the eye. “I am here to talk to you about a certain item you have been carrying
around with you for the past six months.” John’s fist grabbed said item tightly. “There is quite
some controversy surrounding that young man back home.”
John slightly smirked at the notion, “what did he do? Step somewhere there was a ‘don’t
walk on grass’ sign?” Amilla simply rolled her eyes.
“While that is a rather amusing thought, no.” She looked the exorcist right in the eye. “He
wants out, John. I am really not supposed to be telling you this, but I am anyway. I have a ‘Down
to humanity green-card’ so to speak at the moment, I just came here on my way home.”
“Aren’t you such a rebel?” he retorted, grabbing a glass for himself and filling it with the
brown liquid that was sitting on the table.
“Just as impossible as always aren’t you Constantine?” she smiled sweetly, keeping her
eye on the man. “But most importantly, he wants out so he could be with you.” He dropped his
glass, rum falling onto the table and the glass rolling off and shattering into a million pieces.
“Well I must be going, thanks the for the drink John! Until next time!” Amilla promptly opened
his window that opened to the street and jumped out in a flourish of feathers.
Pairing: Chastine
Rating: PG-PG13
Disclaimer: I own the book... but that is about it. Amillia is mine though!
Summery: He carried around a lot of things, but among his arsenal was a hat
A/N: My first Constantine fanfic, let along my first chastine work. So be nice? Plus, I want to
know if I should continue this or not...
Being morbid wasn’t a feeling for John Constantine, it was a way of life. There
were a few items that he always had on him at all times these days: Holy water, crosses, various
demon repellant items, new lighter (just because he kicked the habit didn’t mean he didn’t need
one, the damn thing had saved his life many times before), a pocket bible, and some gum (his
NEW annoying habit, but at least this one didn’t give you cancer, but he was sure scientists
would soon prove it did over the years. It seemed everything gave you cancer in one way or
another these days.) But what one failed to notice is the newest item he carried with him, a hat.
He never wore it, but it stayed in the pocket of his jacket at all times. This may not seem
strange, especially when you are talking about THE John Constantine, until you hear who the hat
had belong too. Chas Kramer, age 17, died by the hand of an angel now turned human way
before his time. Most people just wrote it off as one of his weird quirks and left the whole thing
alone. Midnight, Angela, or anyone else that knew had never brought it up, and to some extent
John was glad about that. He kept it there for about six months before some dared say anything
about it, and on top of that it was by someone he didn’t even like.
Coming home after a exorcism he quickly entered his apartment, sensing something was
wrong. Usually the wards he put up were enough to keep out any intruders, but it seemed one of
those damned creatures got in anyway. Sitting in his apartment drinking a glass of the rum he
kept around, was a girl. She was normal enough: light brown hair, grey eyes, ripped jeans, and a
faded white shirt and jacket. That was, if you didn’t pay any attention to the pure white wings on
the creatures back.
“Took you long enough John, I’ve been waiting for you. Then again you were always the
kind to keep higher up powers waiting on you, instead of the other way around. Oh well, you
already knew that so you don’t need my to point out the obvious.” she said, sitting from the glass
lightly.
“ Shit, they just had to send you didn’t they Amillia? What the fuck do you want?” he
growled, pulling the other seat at the kitchen table up so he could sit down.
“Well you are just the same ray of sunshine aren’t you?”she sarcastically retorted, “it has
been decided by unanimous vote that I am one of the few angel’s out there that can actually talk
at you without thinking of willingly giving up and letting you just descend....”
“Yeah I get it, not what do you want?” he growled, already getting aggravated at her
presence
“You just have never implemented manors have you?” Amillia muttered to herself and
looked him dead in the eye. “I am here to talk to you about a certain item you have been carrying
around with you for the past six months.” John’s fist grabbed said item tightly. “There is quite
some controversy surrounding that young man back home.”
John slightly smirked at the notion, “what did he do? Step somewhere there was a ‘don’t
walk on grass’ sign?” Amilla simply rolled her eyes.
“While that is a rather amusing thought, no.” She looked the exorcist right in the eye. “He
wants out, John. I am really not supposed to be telling you this, but I am anyway. I have a ‘Down
to humanity green-card’ so to speak at the moment, I just came here on my way home.”
“Aren’t you such a rebel?” he retorted, grabbing a glass for himself and filling it with the
brown liquid that was sitting on the table.
“Just as impossible as always aren’t you Constantine?” she smiled sweetly, keeping her
eye on the man. “But most importantly, he wants out so he could be with you.” He dropped his
glass, rum falling onto the table and the glass rolling off and shattering into a million pieces.
“Well I must be going, thanks the for the drink John! Until next time!” Amilla promptly opened
his window that opened to the street and jumped out in a flourish of feathers.