Title: Of Nightingales
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1,021
Disclaimer: Aziraphale and Crowley belong to Pratchett and Gaiman. "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" belongs to Maschwitz, Sherwin, and Strachey.
A/N: I’m going along with
quantum_witch 's hypothesis that Crowley’s flat is on Adam’s Row, in Mayfair. (She has compiled a brilliant list of similar ideas,
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Comments 15
I've always had a touch of melancholy about this book among my favorites because, even with Gaiman's offhand interview comment about the pair of them subsequently sharing a cottage on the South Downs, when the "Real Thing" goes down there's no way around them being on opposite sides and whether lovers or bosom friends that rather broke my heart.
It never penetrated about the lyrics before even though the pertinent section is quoted right in the book, and now I know--thanks to your insight--
>It’s written somewhere where we can’t see it, but it’ll be all right. I know everything will be all right now."<
Angels...plural.
Don't care if it's sappy, happy tears!
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To think that Crowley might have, in essence, sauntered slightly back upward without him noticing is hilarious and touching at once. :) I did know the lyrics, but that part never made me think of this. Good job.
And I would positively LOVE to know what the hand gesture that hadn't been seen for 700 years actually was...
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Thanks! I really think Crowley would still be himself even if he had to be technically good. He's just that sort, I think.
So would I! XD I imagine it has something to do with thumbs, but I have no idea why.
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Thumbs! XD I think I'm going to do some research. Or just make it up.
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The nice thing about far-back history is that there's (usually) no way to really disprove anything as transient as hand signs! :)
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So very Aziraphale!
This was an adorable little fic. <3 They were both perfectly in character, and kudos to you for catching the bit about the angels dining at the Ritz!
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