37. That's what she said

[madetothwart]

[The journals suddenly start recording rather odd noises; it starts with the catchy country-style LP of 'Jesus is the Telephone Repairman on the switchboard of my life'1, and is joined rather soon afterwards by a surprised sounding English voice.]

Well... I say, Miss Dalma!

[A woman's voice follows shortly after, her tone a mix of fascination

Comments

[painhumbles]

....Do I have to even say anything?

[madetothwart]

[Lord, why did it have to be Gabriel? He can't follow the other angel's sardonic comments at the best of times, he always felt they would be better suited to an audience of individuals with hair the colour of skittles.]

About what?

[painhumbles]

[TO THAT, AZIRAPHALE'S BRACKETS, GABRIEL SAYS, "Mmmm, Skittles.]

About your happy ending.

[madetothwart]

[Happy Ending? What on earth could he be referring to? Riful, perhaps?]

...thank you?

[painhumbles]

Not the best song choice though. Most people lose their virginity to something a little less family-oriented.

1/4

[madetothwart]

I hardly see what my song choice has to do with anyth--

[madetothwart]

[Wait, did he just say virginity?]

[madetothwart]

[There were some things in life that Aziraphale intrinsically knew were simply Not For Him, things that he knew deep down were intended for people who didn't wear camel-hair coats and open-toed suede sandals.

Rock climbing was one, as was landscape gardening, similarly the butchering trade and the entire island of Guernsey. Sex was, quite certainly, one of those things.

He was sexless by nature, and that's the way he intended to be thank-you-very-much; which was precisely what he had told that nice man Caligula, when he had been invited to one of his orgies.]

Done

[madetothwart]

What on Earth are you talking about now?

[painhumbles]

Did you just have sex with that woman, Aziraphale?

[madetothwart]

Don't be so absurd! Is that any way to treat a young lady's reputation? Assuming her to be performing salacious and libidinous acts on just anyone? I believe you owe Miss Dalma an apology, Gabriel.

For shame!

[inherbones]

[She snorts into her hand, trying to disguise her laughter. Her shoulders quiver. From the sound and her appearance, it might seem like she's humiliated or even crying instead of doing her damn best to not laugh.]

[madetothwart]

[His expression when he looks over at her, is one of mortified sympathy, reaching out to awkwardly pat her shoulder. Twice.]

There now, Miss Dalma, I'm sure he didn't mean it.

[inherbones]

[She tries to raise her head and stops, covering her face with both hands. She shakes her head. If her voice sounds thick, it has nothing to do with the hilarity she's feeling. Of course not.]

Sounds like him did.

[painhumbles]

[Meanwhile, Gabriel is also trying not to laugh. And failing.]

Well, I hope the young lady'll forgive me.

[madetothwart]

That's hardly a proper apology, Gabriel. Honestly, man, where did you learn your manners?