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[Nov. 22nd, 2009|08:09 pm] |
Who: Aziraphale and Crowley
What: Discussions, possibly of a marriage-related social contractual nature. It is all Mary's fault!
When/Where: Backdated to yesterday evening, St. James Park, London
Warnings: Entirely possible, will update if needed.
Right after receiving the last message from Aziraphale, Crowley willed himself over to St. James park, day-old loaf of bread in tow. Mary, and her ridiculous mention of marriage, had got him to thinking. And, if that entire debacle with Satan and her human was any sort of omen, well. Excuse Crowley for wanting to to know where he and his Angel stood.
Walking over to the pond, he was trying to be quiet, so as not to disturb his lover and the fowl. But he couldn't stop the snort at the sight of the well-worn tweed blazer his lover was fond of, near-camouflage against the pine and fall leaves of the forest around them.
He moved to stand next to his lover, opening the bag of bread and ripping off a chunk to toss to the nearest waterfowl.
"Wherever did you find that coat? I thought you'd lost it," Moreover, he was almost positive he'd buried it in the foundation of his new club. |
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