(no subject)

[aj_crawley]

*Crowley enters the bar, looking significantly better rested than the last time he was here. He's not limping any more, and despite the slight stiffness of his movements, there is a grin on his face. He orders an apple martini and settles himself at his usual table, idly flexing his still-dusty wings and then wincing at the protest of sore muscles*

Comments

[aj_crawley]

*tuts*

Language, Tonks.

[clumsy_auror]

Ohhhh, right, sorry. *looks falsley repentant* Bugger, bollocks, damn, and fuck. Better?

[aj_crawley]

That's my girl.