(no subject)
Title: Little Drummer Boy/Girl
Author: Sarah (electrakitty74)
Feedback: This post
Pairing: Angel/Collins
Word Count: 763
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Summary: Angel gets a job
Notes: Somewhat AU. Song Lyric is from “Mother’s Child.”
Special Thanks: None
Spoilers: None
Warnings: A little sexuality, but this is Collins and Angel we’re talking about. ;)
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, I’m just in love with them. J
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Collins walked across campus, hunching his shoulders against the cold December day. Angel had been gone somewhere or another all day long. Collins was disappointed, he had hoped that they would spend every day together while he was on Christmas Break. He was enjoying his walk, with or without his lover. It was a beautiful day, sunny and not too cold for Christmas Eve. His reverie was ruined when suddenly he was surprised by what appeared to be a whirling dervish coming around the corner. The form of a young man slammed into him at top speed, nearly knocking him over. He reached out and steadied the man, and found himself looking into familiar eyes. Angel’s.
“Collins!” His lover shouted, quite out of breath. Collins held the smaller man’s shoulders for a minute, trying to determine why he was so excited.
“Ang! What’s wrong!” Angel was panting, doubled over, holding his knees. He couldn’t yet get enough breath to talk. He simply shook his head, swallowed, and held up one finger.
“I. . .got. . .the. . .job!” Angel finally managed.
“What job?”
“The. . .drumming. . .job.”
“Honey, you’re going to have to tell me more than that. I don’t know about any drumming job.”
Angel sat down on a short brick wall to finish catching his breath.
“I ran all the way from the subway, I couldn’t wait to tell you, but you weren’t home, so I just went out running. I had an audition this afternoon for this new show. . . it’s just a workshop, but they’re already talking about it going up to Broadway!”
“What show is it?”
“I can’t remember what it’s called, but it’s some kind of musical variation on the Wizard of Oz, and I think it’s told by the witches. Wait, I think it’s called _Wicked._”
“And the job?”
“I’m drumming in the pit.”
“Ang, that’s awesome!” Collins swept his lover into a huge hug and kissed his lips.
“I met with the casting director at the end. He wants me at the auditions next week. They want the actors to do this improvised interpretive dance bit and they want me to play for it. He asked me if I knew anyone who might want to audition.”
“You know who we should tell about this?”
“Who?”
“Maureen. Bet she’d want to go to those auditions.” Angel grinned.
“You’re right, Maureen would kick ass at improvised auditions.”
“And maybe if she got into a show it’d get her off the weird nursery rhyme protest kick she’s on right now.”
“Really. If I have to go to one more nonsensical protest involving cows and moons and dishes and spoons, I swear I’m gonna. . .”
“Ang, we’re being supportive.” Collins warned.
“I’m always supportive, but I just got a job and it’s Christmas Eve, I wanna get dressed up and go out to celebrate. I don’t wanna listen to Maureen’s craziness tonight.” He pouted his lips and crossed his arms like a child.
“We promised. She’ll notice if we’re not there. We’ll go home and get dressed up and we’ll go out afterwards.”
They walked home, hand in hand, Angel skipping from time to time, chatting about his audition and all the people he had met that day.
When they got back to the apartment, Collins pointed Angel in the direction of the bedroom and swatted his butt playfully.
“Go get dressed. I’ll wait here. We can do whatever you want to tonight. . .after the protest.”
“Ok. . .I’m going.”
Collins’ beeper went off as Angel left the room. ‘Now I’ve got to take these drugs,’ he thought and headed for the bathroom to find his AZT. He swallowed two pills and went back to the living room to wait for Angel. He flopped down on the sofa. There was something lumpy under his butt and he shifted his weight to pull it out. It was a pointy Santa hat. Angel must’ve put it there. He put it on and waited for his lover.
When Angel came back to the living room, in glorious Santa-drag, she smiled at Collins sitting there in the hat.
“Look at you, sexy girl.” Collins growled, low in his throat.
“We’re quite a pair, you and I,” Angel giggled “Santa and Mrs. Claus.”
“Mer-ry Christmas.” Collins purred, patting his lap. “Now sit and tell Santa what he’s gonna have to stand in line for this year.” Angel sat on his lap and kissed him passionately.
“You’re already at the front of the line,” she whispered.
They didn’t make it to any protest that night.