A Different Sort of Serpent
Welcome to my Good Omens kick.
Laurel
"You're kidding. I haven't had one of those since they beheaded Mary."
"No, it's fairly good." She cocked her head. "It's not authentic, though. They leave out the placenta now."
Across the street a road construction crew turned all the traffic lights to flash red, just in time for the lunch crowd.
"Crowley, really."
"I don't suppose you're going to tell me to stop?"
Laurel smiled a fond sort of smile. It was a smile from someone who was trying to be somewhat disapproving for form's sake, but this was funny and the culprit beloved, so it was also a smile from someone who wasn't trying very hard.
Crowley smirked. "You're reminding me of someone I know. Only not nearly so stuffy."
She shrugged lightly. "I'm much younger."
Crowley grinned and slid into the driver's seat. "C'mon, kiddo. I know a place where they do a mean chicken tandoori."
"I don't suppose you'll let me drive sometime?"
"Child, I don't let the angel drive."
"Aziraphale still thinks you steer by pulling on the wheel like reins."
"Fine, point. How about 'over your dead body'?" Never mind that Crowley was an even more terrifying driver than Laurel. Driving the Bentley had become a game to them. From the moment it had left the dealer only one person had ever driven the Bentley so much as an inch, and that person was Crowley. Laurel was lucky to get in it and knew it, and Crowley knew she knew it, and neither one would ever say and they knew that too.
Laurel laughed quietly.
Victoria
"You've been cooing at my plants again," the demon said sourly. "I'd only just gotten them on edge, too. Just look at this geranium! Buds! It had buds yesterday. Those should be blooms now!"
"Leave it alone, Crowley," the Princess laughed softly and poured him some wine. "They know you're bluffing."
"I'm not bloody bluffing."
Victoria raised an eyebrow that spoke of what really happened to the former occupant when Crowley brought back an empty pot to leave conspicuously around their rooms. The demon scowled, took the wine, and swigged it. Then he raised his eyebrows and sipped it.
"Well."
The Princess shrugged. "Someone is buying favors." She settled back on the divan.
"Is it working?"
"Not really. They only brought the one bottle."
"Pity."
The Princess laughed. "I'm tired of France, Crowley, and tired of Europe. Help me bring them down. We'll go to Hong Kong, and then wherever you like. Guillaume adores you, bright glittering bastard that you are. Help me lead them into the temptation of their own downfall."
"That might be arranged." Crowley tipped his sunglasses down and looked at her with yellow serpent's eyes over the lenses. He was still grinning. "If you've got the apple, Princess, I've got the pitch."
The Princess sat back and hid her smile, Eve's smile, behind her wineglass.
Xanxus
(Because God help me, I couldn't help myself.)
He didn't actually know why he'd kept the flash bastard around so long. It wasn't as if they liked each other. Hell, they drove each other up a wall. At this point it was probably a contest to see who'd outlast the other. First one to crack and leave loses.
They were both very sore losers.
"Come now, I think it's fun to see them in theatres. And it's not as if either one of us can't arrange matters to suit ourselves if someone starts talking."
Xanxus snorted. It was a well-rehearsed snort that meant Trash, with you in the theatre you'll make them start talking if you think the movie's getting dull. Then Xanxus would have to torch them. Which was usually what the demon had had in mind when he'd started. Not, in point of fact, that he actually minded every time this happened. Crowley's attention span was frequently shorter than Xanxus's for everything except classic movies, cutting-edge design, the Bentley, and his fucking houseplants. The snake was fucking annoying sometimes, but not as bad as the stupid shark, and at least he was never boring.
Xanxus had eventually learned decided not to touch the car. Or torch the houseplants out of spite. It wasn't worth the fucking trouble. (It'd taken years.) There were still the occasional casualties, and Lussuria had taken great delight (and the noisy shark great incredulity) in informing him that the Serpent now threatened his plants with a stint in Xanxus's haunts as a special punishment.
Bah. He had his uses. There was no one better for uncovering secrets than a snake, and the bastard had decent taste in booze.
Laurel
"You're kidding. I haven't had one of those since they beheaded Mary."
"No, it's fairly good." She cocked her head. "It's not authentic, though. They leave out the placenta now."
Across the street a road construction crew turned all the traffic lights to flash red, just in time for the lunch crowd.
"Crowley, really."
"I don't suppose you're going to tell me to stop?"
Laurel smiled a fond sort of smile. It was a smile from someone who was trying to be somewhat disapproving for form's sake, but this was funny and the culprit beloved, so it was also a smile from someone who wasn't trying very hard.
Crowley smirked. "You're reminding me of someone I know. Only not nearly so stuffy."
She shrugged lightly. "I'm much younger."
Crowley grinned and slid into the driver's seat. "C'mon, kiddo. I know a place where they do a mean chicken tandoori."
"I don't suppose you'll let me drive sometime?"
"Child, I don't let the angel drive."
"Aziraphale still thinks you steer by pulling on the wheel like reins."
"Fine, point. How about 'over your dead body'?" Never mind that Crowley was an even more terrifying driver than Laurel. Driving the Bentley had become a game to them. From the moment it had left the dealer only one person had ever driven the Bentley so much as an inch, and that person was Crowley. Laurel was lucky to get in it and knew it, and Crowley knew she knew it, and neither one would ever say and they knew that too.
Laurel laughed quietly.
Victoria
"You've been cooing at my plants again," the demon said sourly. "I'd only just gotten them on edge, too. Just look at this geranium! Buds! It had buds yesterday. Those should be blooms now!"
"Leave it alone, Crowley," the Princess laughed softly and poured him some wine. "They know you're bluffing."
"I'm not bloody bluffing."
Victoria raised an eyebrow that spoke of what really happened to the former occupant when Crowley brought back an empty pot to leave conspicuously around their rooms. The demon scowled, took the wine, and swigged it. Then he raised his eyebrows and sipped it.
"Well."
The Princess shrugged. "Someone is buying favors." She settled back on the divan.
"Is it working?"
"Not really. They only brought the one bottle."
"Pity."
The Princess laughed. "I'm tired of France, Crowley, and tired of Europe. Help me bring them down. We'll go to Hong Kong, and then wherever you like. Guillaume adores you, bright glittering bastard that you are. Help me lead them into the temptation of their own downfall."
"That might be arranged." Crowley tipped his sunglasses down and looked at her with yellow serpent's eyes over the lenses. He was still grinning. "If you've got the apple, Princess, I've got the pitch."
The Princess sat back and hid her smile, Eve's smile, behind her wineglass.
Xanxus
(Because God help me, I couldn't help myself.)
He didn't actually know why he'd kept the flash bastard around so long. It wasn't as if they liked each other. Hell, they drove each other up a wall. At this point it was probably a contest to see who'd outlast the other. First one to crack and leave loses.
They were both very sore losers.
"Come now, I think it's fun to see them in theatres. And it's not as if either one of us can't arrange matters to suit ourselves if someone starts talking."
Xanxus snorted. It was a well-rehearsed snort that meant Trash, with you in the theatre you'll make them start talking if you think the movie's getting dull. Then Xanxus would have to torch them. Which was usually what the demon had had in mind when he'd started. Not, in point of fact, that he actually minded every time this happened. Crowley's attention span was frequently shorter than Xanxus's for everything except classic movies, cutting-edge design, the Bentley, and his fucking houseplants. The snake was fucking annoying sometimes, but not as bad as the stupid shark, and at least he was never boring.
Xanxus had eventually learned decided not to touch the car. Or torch the houseplants out of spite. It wasn't worth the fucking trouble. (It'd taken years.) There were still the occasional casualties, and Lussuria had taken great delight (and the noisy shark great incredulity) in informing him that the Serpent now threatened his plants with a stint in Xanxus's haunts as a special punishment.
Bah. He had his uses. There was no one better for uncovering secrets than a snake, and the bastard had decent taste in booze.