Ron Weasley and Aziraphale eating lunch in a cafe at the end of the world (Harry Potter/Good Omens)rattyjolMay 20 2012, 05:16:02 UTC
There was a dark storm cloud gathering on the horizon. Not a literal one, though this was London and it would probably rain at least twice before the end of the day. It was, in fact, a metaphorical storm cloud, one that Aziraphale had been noticing for quite some time but had only just now brought himself to become concerned over. The Apocalypse had just been averted, after all; there were bound to be a few wisps of danger on the horizon. But without his notice, those wisps seemed to have become one large, full-fledged problem of their own, and Aziraphale was sipping tea in a cafe.
To be fair, he was sipping tea in a cafe because there isn't a whole lot else to do in cafes, and the sign on the door proclaimed that tables were for customers only. Also, his lunch date was far-more-than-fashionably late.
Crowley was very rarely more-than-fashionably late for lunch with Aziraphale, and never for this particular cafe, which was hailed by all and sundry (though mostly Crowley) to serve the best smoked beef brisket sandwiches had since that poor cow was hit by a meteor in 1536.
This was why the empty chair across the table from Aziraphale had caused the angel to begin feeling concern over the previously-mentioned dark cloud.
Except that the chair was no longer empty, being suddenly and spontaneously occupied by a gangly redhead with a long piece of wood in his hand.
"All right, come out, you little-- What?" Seeming to notice that he was not, in fact, where he wanted to be*, the man hurriedly stuffed his piece of wood inside his jacket.
"Hello, dear," Aziraphale said with a friendly smile. "You wouldn't be here with a message from Crowley by any chance, would you?"
The man blinked. "Er -- no. Sorry."
Aziraphale sighed. "Ah well. Would you like a cup of tea, my boy?"
"No, sorry, I'm just, er, passing through -- I think I got the coordinates wrong. I'm meant to be, ah-- where are we?"
"London, dear boy. Having trouble with your Apparation, I see."
"Only the landings," the man protested.
"Angel," Crowley announced, appearing suddenly and dripping wet with his feet on the teatray, "there's, ah, things happening in Croydon."
Funny, Aziraphale had been sure the storm clouds were coming in from the west. He stood. "It was good to meet you, dear boy. Do work on your aim before you Apparate again." He smiled at the man, and then was gone.
--- *Which was several hundred miles to the north, somewhere in the vicinity of the hideout of a few Death Eaters with remarkable survival instincts. His teammates were, at the moment, wondering how those Death Eaters were able to escape from what was surely a foolproof plan of capture.
Re: Ron Weasley and Aziraphale eating lunch in a cafe at the end of the world (Harry Potter/Good OmeinkvoicesMay 20 2012, 13:12:34 UTC
Oh, Good Omens, hello! Haven't seen you in a while *snuggles fic*.
I love the style of this, very Good Omens-esque, especially the best smoked beef brisket sandwiches had since that poor cow was hit by a meteor in 1536 which made me laugh :D Also, poor bewildered Ron! Also, footnote OF BRILLIANCE! Ha.
Re: Ron Weasley and Aziraphale eating lunch in a cafe at the end of the world (Harry Potter/Good OmerattyjolMay 20 2012, 17:28:24 UTC
I may have stalked your tags to see if you were in both fandoms after I wrote it and noticed that your only GO fic was wayyyy back in 2007. You should fix that. /hinthint
To be fair, he was sipping tea in a cafe because there isn't a whole lot else to do in cafes, and the sign on the door proclaimed that tables were for customers only. Also, his lunch date was far-more-than-fashionably late.
Crowley was very rarely more-than-fashionably late for lunch with Aziraphale, and never for this particular cafe, which was hailed by all and sundry (though mostly Crowley) to serve the best smoked beef brisket sandwiches had since that poor cow was hit by a meteor in 1536.
This was why the empty chair across the table from Aziraphale had caused the angel to begin feeling concern over the previously-mentioned dark cloud.
Except that the chair was no longer empty, being suddenly and spontaneously occupied by a gangly redhead with a long piece of wood in his hand.
"All right, come out, you little-- What?" Seeming to notice that he was not, in fact, where he wanted to be*, the man hurriedly stuffed his piece of wood inside his jacket.
"Hello, dear," Aziraphale said with a friendly smile. "You wouldn't be here with a message from Crowley by any chance, would you?"
The man blinked. "Er -- no. Sorry."
Aziraphale sighed. "Ah well. Would you like a cup of tea, my boy?"
"No, sorry, I'm just, er, passing through -- I think I got the coordinates wrong. I'm meant to be, ah-- where are we?"
"London, dear boy. Having trouble with your Apparation, I see."
"Only the landings," the man protested.
"Angel," Crowley announced, appearing suddenly and dripping wet with his feet on the teatray, "there's, ah, things happening in Croydon."
Funny, Aziraphale had been sure the storm clouds were coming in from the west. He stood. "It was good to meet you, dear boy. Do work on your aim before you Apparate again." He smiled at the man, and then was gone.
---
*Which was several hundred miles to the north, somewhere in the vicinity of the hideout of a few Death Eaters with remarkable survival instincts. His teammates were, at the moment, wondering how those Death Eaters were able to escape from what was surely a foolproof plan of capture.
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I love the style of this, very Good Omens-esque, especially the best smoked beef brisket sandwiches had since that poor cow was hit by a meteor in 1536 which made me laugh :D Also, poor bewildered Ron! Also, footnote OF BRILLIANCE! Ha.
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Thanks! That's probably my favorite bit. /nod
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Although now I really want to reread Good Omens...
It's a fantastic line, seriously, I laughed. May have disturbed the neighbours *grins*.
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