Good Omens: Missing generation (6/12)
Title: Good Omens: Missing generation (6/12)
Pairings: Late Aziraphale/Crowley, hinted Adam/Pepper, hinted OC/OC (likely to develop in future fic)
Warnings: None as long as you've read Good Omens
Summary: What if Crowley and Aziraphale weren't the only agents on Earth? What if there had been another pair, there all along but simply forgotten - lost - from the story? View the Apocalypse-that-wasn't through the eyes of their two respective students, Damian and Muriel, and find out the truth of the missing generation!
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The issues to the North had proven to be useless. In fact, it had simply been a neighbourhood with a bad mixture of people. Placing a few superstitious elderly people in the same neighbourhood as a couple of new age students who had a penchant for strange sculptures and obscure music... yeah, it wasn't the best of plans. Once they'd known for sure that there was nothing odd going on, besides the usual human forms of odd, the pair had decided that it would be a good plan to move on to the next area of suspicion - Wiltshire.
They'd had to stay overnight in a hotel, however, as by the time they'd finished searching the area both demon and angel had felt slightly drained from the neighbourhood-wide argument that they had needed to resolve before beating a hasty retreat. Luckily, there had been plenty of rooms free, and so the pair had booked themselves in and promptly gone to sleep. It was fairly obvious what the difference was between the pair though, considering the fact that by 7'o'clock the next morning a fully-dressed Muriel was knocking on the door of a still-sleeping Damian. Eventually, the demon had sighed, called through the door saying that he would meet her in the breakfast area downstairs in 15 minutes, and quickly dove into the shower in order to wake himself up. It ended up being 28 minutes, but Muri had the grace not to comment on it. Instead, he pushed across a black coffee and some buttered toast with Marmite. Both she and Damian quite liked the taste of Marmite - much to the disgust of Crowley - but that morning the angel had decided to go with the strawberry jam instead.
Damian thanked her before downing about half of the coffee immediately. However, when he put the mug down again it was full still. The same could be said for Muriel's tea, which had remained full for 3 cups worth of the beverage. Feeling the caffeine beginning to work wonders with his system, Damian stretched and starting enjoying his breakfast at a more normal rate. Glancing at the wall, he realised that it was, in fact, 8 o'clock on a Friday morning, and they were still no closer to finding the missing antichrist. Sighing, he rubbed his neck with a palm before looking at his angelic counterpart. "So... where exactly are we heading to in the county? Please, for Somebody's sake tell me it isn't Swindon." He muttered. Certainly, he had played a large role in the idea of Swindon, but really it was starting to get out of hand now.
"No, not Swindon. A town near there, called..." she glanced at the newspaper, "...Chippenham? And the city of Bath, although technically that's Somerset. Either way, it's those two." Muriel replied, finishing her toast and drinking the last of her tea. "I wonder what's happening back in London? Do you think Zira and Crowley have found anything?" she added, head tilted slightly in contemplation.
Damian shrugged. "We can certainly check." He replied, getting up and heading to the public phone.
10 minutes later, he headed back. By then Muriel was already doing minor miracles and drawing children to her like an angelic magnet. The issue with her being the angel of the youth was that, on some odd subconscious level, children recognisedher. As in, they instinctively trusted Muriel. Although there was a major upside to that fact - because of it, it meant that parents also trusted her for some reason they could not pinpoint - there was the annoyance, for Damian anyway.
Because of it, children often gathered closer to her, subconsciously seeking the safety that came with being near the angel. So, by default, they came closer to the demon as well. It wasn't as if he had an issue with kids, but it still didn't mean that he would welcome their attention with open arms - he was a demon, after all, and it wouldn't do to appear soft. No matter how hard he tried, however, he could not cause the children to be scared of him. Sighing internally, Damian prepared himself and walked over. Muriel looked up from where she was talking to a cheerful toddler and smiled slightly. "So? News?" she asked, before quickly turning to the child and saying, "I'm afraid I need to talk to Dames in private, darling. You should head back to your mother again, I think." That was another thing. In a similar respect to Aziraphale and his endearment to the terms 'my dear' and 'dearest', Muri had a habit of referring to people as 'darling's. Oddly enough, she seemed to call Damian such a term more than most others. At the angel's words, the little girl giggled and ran back over to her smiling parents. Facing Damian again, she shrugged before inclining her head, waiting for him to respond.
Sitting down, Damian told her what his tutor had told him. Apparently, the hospital was now used for 'team building' events, they had no idea what had happened to the child and on the way back a pedestrian had hit them with her bike because she had been going too slow. He also added that after finding some book in the back of the Bentley when they'd arrived home, Aziraphale had beat a hasty retreat and had failed to turn up at St James Park that morning. Muriel took it all in with a concerned expression before stating that, really, they needed to get a move on if they wanted to make it to Chippenham before lunch.
Soon enough the pair were on the road, heading south. As neither of them could decide upon a CD to listen to, they had ended up choosing to listen to the radio. After all, radios aren't biased, and you never know what you could end up finding out about. So, on went BBC Radio 1.
This turned out to be a very good thing...