Crossover crack for a fiction contest
So, the Panboards are having this contest, where you basically write an excerpt or summary from a crossover fic with the Pandect characters. I'm posting it here because it's a teensy bit not worksafe, and the contest mod asked us to post such things on our own sites/blogs/things. :P Feel free to ignore this if you want.
Title: The Nice and Accurate Pandect
Summary: Pandect/Good Omens crossover. :P
Word count: 1000
Rating: PG-13 for kisses and implied sex (Noah/Edgar). Also some language.
“R-really,” waved Edgar. “I don’t… see what you mean.”
Noah emptied his wine glass and leaned in.
“What I mean is, angel,” his glass was full again, and he took a swig. “What I mean is, I wanna. You know.”
“No. I-I don’t know…”
“Yes y’do,you’re just too embar-embre-ashamed to admit it.”
Edgar was faintly amused to see Noah so flustered.
“N-noah, please!”
“Fine, f’r Heav- Go- cryin’ out loud, I wanna, oh, fuck it.”
Before Edgar could complain about l-language, Noah, please, you never know who might be listening, Noah soundly kissed him.
Meanwhile, across the pond, Dr. Rocko Sable was most astonished to find himself back in his flat on Fifth Avenue, as it was certainly not the minds of men. He pulled out his slim new mobile. Perhaps Delia and Sobre had made it back as well.
“Now wasn’t that nicccccce?” breathed Noah into Edgar’s ear.
Once the initial shock had passed, Edgar was surprisingly (well, perhaps easy wasn’t the right word) susceptible to temptation. Somehow they had ended up together in Edgar’s rarely used bed, with Noah on top after an extremely memorable fifteen minutes. Neither was exactly sure when, but somewhere along the way they returned to sobriety with their wings out.
“Well, yes, I rather figured it would be, but…” he lost his train of thought when Noah did something with his tongue that Edgar could only describe as naughty… “you’re, ah, surely the, hnnn, Arrangement doesn’t, doesn’t cover, uhnn, angels are supposed to, to, be…”
“Pleasssssse, angel,” Noah ran a finger across Edgar’s bottom lip.
“N-noah, you old serpent, I-I-“
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to have to keep that pretty mouth of yoursssss occupied myself.”
“Well, can you please stop hiss- mmph!”
Noah was, among other things, a demon of his word.
“HELLO, ROCKO. I AM SOMEWHAT SURPRISED TO SEE YOU.”
Rocko jumped.
“AND IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE SOMEWHAT SURPRISED TO SEE ME, AS WELL.”
In the middle of his living room stood a hooded, shadowy figure.
“I’VE COME FOR YOUR PLANT,” said JOE.
“Oh, well, um. I don’t suppose-”
“THAT I KNOW WHY YOU ARE ALIVE? I AM SORRY, BUT LIVING IS RATHER NOT SOMETHING I KNOW MUCH ABOUT,” JOE gave what might have been a short, dry laugh. “I SUGGEST YOU CONTACT THE OTHERS.”
Rocko nervously smiled.
“Yes, well, I was planning on it,” he pressed the button but the mobile phone in his hand utterly failed to start. “Damnit, the battery must be-”
“DEAD,” pronounced JOE. “MUCH LIKE THIS FICUS,” he gingerly touched a crackly brown leaf. “MALNUTRITION, POOR THING.”
“Oh, heh... I’ll just use the landline, then,” said Rocko as he made his way over to the phone.
JOE continued to refuse to leave as his unwilling host dialed a number with an area code pertaining to somewhere in the Middle East. He didn’t know whether to be surprised or not when it picked up.
“Delia? It’s me.”
“Oh, oh Noah, that was, that was-“
“Ssssinful?” Noah smirked through a mouthful of feathers.
“Heavenly. I- oh! I didn’t- Can we do this again?”
“As many times as you want, sweets.”
:”Oh, hello, Rocko. Why are you alive?”
“Hey! That’s a nice thing to ask the man who-”
“Shove it, Rocko. You know what I meant.” Delia rolled her eyes. “Why are we back? I thought he banished us.”
“Well, evidently he didn’t do a good enough job. I was hoping you’d know why.”
“No, maybe Sobre? Or JOE.”
“JOE’s here, actually, and he doesn’t.”
“Why?”
“He said living wasn’t really his bag, if you know what I mean.”
Delia sighed.
“No, why was he there?”
“Oh. A plant. It starved.”
“Figures.”
Rocko thought he heard gunfire in the background.
“Everything okay on your end?”
“Nope.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
An explosion.
“Look, I won’t keep you, I’ll call Sobre,” he paused. “Hey, Delia?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Kill a bastard for me, will you?”
“Sure.”
“And if it’s a bastard from UNICEF?”
“Yeah?”
“Kill him twice.”
And with that, he hung up. Halfway across the world, Delia tossed her hair and smiled a little. Fighting erupted in the previously calm bar next door.
“Pompous dork,” she muttered to herself.
Within days, the town would fall. To what, or to whom, she didn’t particularly care.
“N-noah?”
“Yes?”
“How do we explain this to, to them?”
Noah sat up, ran his fingers through his spiky black hair, and sighed.
“We don’t.”
‘Huh?” Edgar followed him to a seated position.
“Look, angel, it’s not as though they actually cared what we do anymore… If they did, we’d already be in a hel- heap of a lot more trouble than we already are, I mean, for that whole thing with Fleance and the fact that he didn’t actually destroy the world.”
“Oh.” Edgar appeared to be satisfied. He wrapped his arms around Noah’s waist “Then, maybe, if you want to, we could…?”
“Way ahead of you,” grinned Noah, snakishly. “We have reservations for six-thirty.”
“Oh good, Sobre, I need to ask you about something-“
“OH, IS THAT SOBRE? LET ME TALK TO HIM!” Rocko was crudely interrupted midsentence by JOE excitedly clawing at the phone.
“Oh hey, Rocko,” said Sobre, all the way in Iceland. He had been quite excited to discover that they had legalized whaling again.
Rocko slapped JOE’s curiously thin hand away.
“Hold on! It’s kind of important, okay?”
“BUT I HAVE NOT SEEN HIM IN SO LONG! IT IS OF THE UPMOST IMPORTANCE!”
“Yeah, for your pants,” muttered Rocko.
“I HEARD THAT, AND I DO NOT APPRECIATE IT,” sniffed JOE. “I INTEND TO ASK HIM POLITE AND CHARMING QUESTIONS, NOT THAT IT CONCERNS YOU.”
“Right. Now, Sobre, listen-”
“Oh, is that JOE? Let me talk to him!”
Rocko groaned and handed over the phone. It was going to be a long day.
“Try not to kill this one, will you? I’ll go charge my mobile.”
JOE nodded happily.
“HELLO SOBRE, I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE AN INQUIRY CONCERNING YOUR CURRENT ATTIRE.”
Title: The Nice and Accurate Pandect
Summary: Pandect/Good Omens crossover. :P
Word count: 1000
Rating: PG-13 for kisses and implied sex (Noah/Edgar). Also some language.
“R-really,” waved Edgar. “I don’t… see what you mean.”
Noah emptied his wine glass and leaned in.
“What I mean is, angel,” his glass was full again, and he took a swig. “What I mean is, I wanna. You know.”
“No. I-I don’t know…”
“Yes y’do,you’re just too embar-embre-ashamed to admit it.”
Edgar was faintly amused to see Noah so flustered.
“N-noah, please!”
“Fine, f’r Heav- Go- cryin’ out loud, I wanna, oh, fuck it.”
Before Edgar could complain about l-language, Noah, please, you never know who might be listening, Noah soundly kissed him.
Meanwhile, across the pond, Dr. Rocko Sable was most astonished to find himself back in his flat on Fifth Avenue, as it was certainly not the minds of men. He pulled out his slim new mobile. Perhaps Delia and Sobre had made it back as well.
“Now wasn’t that nicccccce?” breathed Noah into Edgar’s ear.
Once the initial shock had passed, Edgar was surprisingly (well, perhaps easy wasn’t the right word) susceptible to temptation. Somehow they had ended up together in Edgar’s rarely used bed, with Noah on top after an extremely memorable fifteen minutes. Neither was exactly sure when, but somewhere along the way they returned to sobriety with their wings out.
“Well, yes, I rather figured it would be, but…” he lost his train of thought when Noah did something with his tongue that Edgar could only describe as naughty… “you’re, ah, surely the, hnnn, Arrangement doesn’t, doesn’t cover, uhnn, angels are supposed to, to, be…”
“Pleasssssse, angel,” Noah ran a finger across Edgar’s bottom lip.
“N-noah, you old serpent, I-I-“
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to have to keep that pretty mouth of yoursssss occupied myself.”
“Well, can you please stop hiss- mmph!”
Noah was, among other things, a demon of his word.
“HELLO, ROCKO. I AM SOMEWHAT SURPRISED TO SEE YOU.”
Rocko jumped.
“AND IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE SOMEWHAT SURPRISED TO SEE ME, AS WELL.”
In the middle of his living room stood a hooded, shadowy figure.
“I’VE COME FOR YOUR PLANT,” said JOE.
“Oh, well, um. I don’t suppose-”
“THAT I KNOW WHY YOU ARE ALIVE? I AM SORRY, BUT LIVING IS RATHER NOT SOMETHING I KNOW MUCH ABOUT,” JOE gave what might have been a short, dry laugh. “I SUGGEST YOU CONTACT THE OTHERS.”
Rocko nervously smiled.
“Yes, well, I was planning on it,” he pressed the button but the mobile phone in his hand utterly failed to start. “Damnit, the battery must be-”
“DEAD,” pronounced JOE. “MUCH LIKE THIS FICUS,” he gingerly touched a crackly brown leaf. “MALNUTRITION, POOR THING.”
“Oh, heh... I’ll just use the landline, then,” said Rocko as he made his way over to the phone.
JOE continued to refuse to leave as his unwilling host dialed a number with an area code pertaining to somewhere in the Middle East. He didn’t know whether to be surprised or not when it picked up.
“Delia? It’s me.”
“Oh, oh Noah, that was, that was-“
“Ssssinful?” Noah smirked through a mouthful of feathers.
“Heavenly. I- oh! I didn’t- Can we do this again?”
“As many times as you want, sweets.”
:”Oh, hello, Rocko. Why are you alive?”
“Hey! That’s a nice thing to ask the man who-”
“Shove it, Rocko. You know what I meant.” Delia rolled her eyes. “Why are we back? I thought he banished us.”
“Well, evidently he didn’t do a good enough job. I was hoping you’d know why.”
“No, maybe Sobre? Or JOE.”
“JOE’s here, actually, and he doesn’t.”
“Why?”
“He said living wasn’t really his bag, if you know what I mean.”
Delia sighed.
“No, why was he there?”
“Oh. A plant. It starved.”
“Figures.”
Rocko thought he heard gunfire in the background.
“Everything okay on your end?”
“Nope.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
An explosion.
“Look, I won’t keep you, I’ll call Sobre,” he paused. “Hey, Delia?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Kill a bastard for me, will you?”
“Sure.”
“And if it’s a bastard from UNICEF?”
“Yeah?”
“Kill him twice.”
And with that, he hung up. Halfway across the world, Delia tossed her hair and smiled a little. Fighting erupted in the previously calm bar next door.
“Pompous dork,” she muttered to herself.
Within days, the town would fall. To what, or to whom, she didn’t particularly care.
“N-noah?”
“Yes?”
“How do we explain this to, to them?”
Noah sat up, ran his fingers through his spiky black hair, and sighed.
“We don’t.”
‘Huh?” Edgar followed him to a seated position.
“Look, angel, it’s not as though they actually cared what we do anymore… If they did, we’d already be in a hel- heap of a lot more trouble than we already are, I mean, for that whole thing with Fleance and the fact that he didn’t actually destroy the world.”
“Oh.” Edgar appeared to be satisfied. He wrapped his arms around Noah’s waist “Then, maybe, if you want to, we could…?”
“Way ahead of you,” grinned Noah, snakishly. “We have reservations for six-thirty.”
“Oh good, Sobre, I need to ask you about something-“
“OH, IS THAT SOBRE? LET ME TALK TO HIM!” Rocko was crudely interrupted midsentence by JOE excitedly clawing at the phone.
“Oh hey, Rocko,” said Sobre, all the way in Iceland. He had been quite excited to discover that they had legalized whaling again.
Rocko slapped JOE’s curiously thin hand away.
“Hold on! It’s kind of important, okay?”
“BUT I HAVE NOT SEEN HIM IN SO LONG! IT IS OF THE UPMOST IMPORTANCE!”
“Yeah, for your pants,” muttered Rocko.
“I HEARD THAT, AND I DO NOT APPRECIATE IT,” sniffed JOE. “I INTEND TO ASK HIM POLITE AND CHARMING QUESTIONS, NOT THAT IT CONCERNS YOU.”
“Right. Now, Sobre, listen-”
“Oh, is that JOE? Let me talk to him!”
Rocko groaned and handed over the phone. It was going to be a long day.
“Try not to kill this one, will you? I’ll go charge my mobile.”
JOE nodded happily.
“HELLO SOBRE, I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE AN INQUIRY CONCERNING YOUR CURRENT ATTIRE.”