Happy Holidays, orngsnapdragon!
Title: Why Sundays Suck, By Adam Young.
Gift For: orngsnapdragon
From: lindsey_grrl
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley, ?
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Kinda Crack-y. Hints of smut. Cameos by the Horseman.
It had started off as a regular, slightly boring, Sunday[1]. Adam was pretty sure of that. Sometime along the way it had all gone… well, not wrong, but strange, but the beginning had been normal.
He had gotten up, washed his face, made a zit disappear, got downstairs to find his mother had done exactly what he felt like eating for breakfast. The usual stuff.
It was about then, he guessed, that things had started to go wonky. First thing out of the house, he decided to go Wensleydale's, as usual, since it was the closest by.
But, apparently, he wasn't there. And from what his mom said, he hadn’t been there since the day before.
"Weird," Adam had thought, with a frown.
He then proceeded to Brian's, he the second closest. And then he peeked through the window[2]. And found Brian. And Wensleydale. On top of Brian, more specifically.
Well.
Adam decided not to knock, since, for all he was the anti-Christ, he was not a complete bastard[3] and wasn't about to interrupt anything.
He then went to Pepper's, because his feet automatically took him there, but as soon as he knocked on the door, it sprung open, Pepper looking livid. She claimed to have PMS and a headache and to hate him forever and then slammed the door on his face.
Adam had always maintained that women were weird, and since Pepper had turned 15 she'd become increasingly more female and thus increasingly stranger. Not that it was all bad[4], but sometimes it took a strain on him, it did. He sometimes whished they'd all go back to being kids again, never mind that whole apocalypses business... It was still easier.
It was at that moment [5] that Adam had a Not-So-Brilliant-Idea[6].
He decided to see how that angel and that demon were doing. Catch up, have some tea, ask about the Underworld’s and Up-stair’s on goings, that sort of thing. They certainly would be more entertaining than two snogging friends and a very pissed off one.
Going to London wasn’t much effort - he walked along the street for less than five minutes before a bus pulled up right besides him, London written as the destination. He had more than enough money for the fair, even though he didn’t remember picking up any that morning, and when he went inside he found two empty seats in which he fit very comfortably and soon fell into an easy sleep.
He woke up as the bus reached it’s final stop, right in front of the Ritz. Adam decided, since it was about time for lunch, to eat there. See what the fuss was all about. And surely there had just been a cancellation to the best place in the restaurant. Adam was lucky like that sometimes.
After a very decent lunch[7] Adam walked around aimlessly for a while, stopping by to feed the ducks at one point[8], all the time trying not to think much. He really didn’t want to think much. Not about people on top of each other, or girls with suddenly enormous breasts who were mad at him for no particular reason[9] or anything like that.
Once he had become tired of distracting himself, Adam quickly found his way to an abandoned looking bookstore. On it’s door hung a ‘closed’ sign.
Adam ignored it.
Soon after he’d really, really wish he hadn’t[10].
He lazily made his way through the stacks, noticing some old copies of the comic books he had particularly liked growing up. It made Adam smile at himself a little.
His smile shortly vanished, when he opened the door to a backroom.
His vision was invaded by what he was quite sure was a French maid outfit. And a tuxedo. And God, was that a duster, and if so, what the Hell where they doing to the poor thing?.
The thing dressed as a French maid looked up. It had yellow eyes with vertical pupils that looked quite surprised.
Adam slammed the door and ran.
And at that moment he thought maybe he understood why his father[11] didn't seem to like Sundays so much.
~end~
[1] Well, as regular as a day could be to the Anti-Christ, that is.
[2]Adam didn’t really believe in privacy. Besides, Brian’s mom was a bit mad at him, sure there’d be no harm in just taking a gander to make sure she wasn’t the one closest to the door.
[3]The curtains did catch on fire at that moment, but Adam would deny to his grave having anything to do with that. And they hadn't told him.
[4]A whole new universe of fun had been added to jumping rope, for once, especially because Pepper had for a long time rebelled against the use bras. Evil machineries of female entrapment, she called them. Adam had to agree.
[4]Maybe a few seconds lather. He was distracted for a moment when he glanced left and saw, on a newsstand, a magazine with a very familiar redhead and a very familiar slim man on the cover, headlines about Africa all over the cover.
[5]Which was another thing he'd never admit to. He never had anything other than Super-Genious-Ideas, thank you very much.
[7]Free of charge, too. Something about no son of his father’s having to pay there. Adam didn’t think much of it.
[8]Somewhere between the fifth and the twelfth breadcrumb, he was again momentarily startled at seeing a familiarly strange white-haired man by the lake, right where a trash-can had turned over and had spilled it’s contents into the water.
[9] As far as he knew, anyway. Pepper had a whole different mind of her own, and was quite sure she had every right for being mad at Adam. Even if she wasn’t going to tell him what the reason was.
[10]Really.
[11] He used the term loosely, of course, but that was what the Bible seemed to think the Devil was from him, so.
Happy Holidays, orngsnapdragon, from your Secret Writer!
Gift For: orngsnapdragon
From: lindsey_grrl
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley, ?
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Kinda Crack-y. Hints of smut. Cameos by the Horseman.
It had started off as a regular, slightly boring, Sunday[1]. Adam was pretty sure of that. Sometime along the way it had all gone… well, not wrong, but strange, but the beginning had been normal.
He had gotten up, washed his face, made a zit disappear, got downstairs to find his mother had done exactly what he felt like eating for breakfast. The usual stuff.
It was about then, he guessed, that things had started to go wonky. First thing out of the house, he decided to go Wensleydale's, as usual, since it was the closest by.
But, apparently, he wasn't there. And from what his mom said, he hadn’t been there since the day before.
"Weird," Adam had thought, with a frown.
He then proceeded to Brian's, he the second closest. And then he peeked through the window[2]. And found Brian. And Wensleydale. On top of Brian, more specifically.
Well.
Adam decided not to knock, since, for all he was the anti-Christ, he was not a complete bastard[3] and wasn't about to interrupt anything.
He then went to Pepper's, because his feet automatically took him there, but as soon as he knocked on the door, it sprung open, Pepper looking livid. She claimed to have PMS and a headache and to hate him forever and then slammed the door on his face.
Adam had always maintained that women were weird, and since Pepper had turned 15 she'd become increasingly more female and thus increasingly stranger. Not that it was all bad[4], but sometimes it took a strain on him, it did. He sometimes whished they'd all go back to being kids again, never mind that whole apocalypses business... It was still easier.
It was at that moment [5] that Adam had a Not-So-Brilliant-Idea[6].
He decided to see how that angel and that demon were doing. Catch up, have some tea, ask about the Underworld’s and Up-stair’s on goings, that sort of thing. They certainly would be more entertaining than two snogging friends and a very pissed off one.
Going to London wasn’t much effort - he walked along the street for less than five minutes before a bus pulled up right besides him, London written as the destination. He had more than enough money for the fair, even though he didn’t remember picking up any that morning, and when he went inside he found two empty seats in which he fit very comfortably and soon fell into an easy sleep.
He woke up as the bus reached it’s final stop, right in front of the Ritz. Adam decided, since it was about time for lunch, to eat there. See what the fuss was all about. And surely there had just been a cancellation to the best place in the restaurant. Adam was lucky like that sometimes.
After a very decent lunch[7] Adam walked around aimlessly for a while, stopping by to feed the ducks at one point[8], all the time trying not to think much. He really didn’t want to think much. Not about people on top of each other, or girls with suddenly enormous breasts who were mad at him for no particular reason[9] or anything like that.
Once he had become tired of distracting himself, Adam quickly found his way to an abandoned looking bookstore. On it’s door hung a ‘closed’ sign.
Adam ignored it.
Soon after he’d really, really wish he hadn’t[10].
He lazily made his way through the stacks, noticing some old copies of the comic books he had particularly liked growing up. It made Adam smile at himself a little.
His smile shortly vanished, when he opened the door to a backroom.
His vision was invaded by what he was quite sure was a French maid outfit. And a tuxedo. And God, was that a duster, and if so, what the Hell where they doing to the poor thing?.
The thing dressed as a French maid looked up. It had yellow eyes with vertical pupils that looked quite surprised.
Adam slammed the door and ran.
And at that moment he thought maybe he understood why his father[11] didn't seem to like Sundays so much.
~end~
[1] Well, as regular as a day could be to the Anti-Christ, that is.
[2]Adam didn’t really believe in privacy. Besides, Brian’s mom was a bit mad at him, sure there’d be no harm in just taking a gander to make sure she wasn’t the one closest to the door.
[3]The curtains did catch on fire at that moment, but Adam would deny to his grave having anything to do with that. And they hadn't told him.
[4]A whole new universe of fun had been added to jumping rope, for once, especially because Pepper had for a long time rebelled against the use bras. Evil machineries of female entrapment, she called them. Adam had to agree.
[4]Maybe a few seconds lather. He was distracted for a moment when he glanced left and saw, on a newsstand, a magazine with a very familiar redhead and a very familiar slim man on the cover, headlines about Africa all over the cover.
[5]Which was another thing he'd never admit to. He never had anything other than Super-Genious-Ideas, thank you very much.
[7]Free of charge, too. Something about no son of his father’s having to pay there. Adam didn’t think much of it.
[8]Somewhere between the fifth and the twelfth breadcrumb, he was again momentarily startled at seeing a familiarly strange white-haired man by the lake, right where a trash-can had turned over and had spilled it’s contents into the water.
[9] As far as he knew, anyway. Pepper had a whole different mind of her own, and was quite sure she had every right for being mad at Adam. Even if she wasn’t going to tell him what the reason was.
[10]Really.
[11] He used the term loosely, of course, but that was what the Bible seemed to think the Devil was from him, so.
Happy Holidays, orngsnapdragon, from your Secret Writer!