Summary: In which Aziraphale never saw it coming but should have.
Categories: Drabbles Characters: Aziraphale
Warnings: Language (mild)
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 383 Read: 115
Published: 22 Sep 2005 Updated: 22 Sep 2005
First and Last Chapter by viridian_magpie
Thinking back on it Aziraphael should have seen it coming. After all, Crowley had a Talent for it. It was his job. His vocation.
Crowley Fucked Things Up For You.
Crowley Laughed At You Afterwards.
Crowley Was Bent Over Howling With Mirth!
Aziraphael gritted his teeth and just barely restrained himself from committing demonicide. Then, in his most reasonable and calmest of voices (or as reasonable and calm as he could be in such a situation), he told Crowley to shut up. People were staring. Of course, if Aziraphael had been reasonable and calm he would have thought of the possibility that they weren't staring at the two supernatural beings merely because the demon was laughing.
He might even consider the possibility of them simply being amazed at the, er, Skill the angel had shown when firing that arrow.
And indeed, had he thought to pick their brains he would have witnessed what they had from the observer's point and understood their absolute bafflement.
What they had witnessed was, admittedly, quite strange:
Anthony Crowley, flash bastard extraordinaire, leads his protesting intelligent, English and gay friend to the shooting range, telling said friend to just try, bless it; because, he'd see how much fun it was – and – and it was like meditation, the concentration and stuff and doesn't Aziraphael like to meditate?
The friend hesitates, bites his lip, then picks up a bow and an arrow.
The friend, looking unsure, takes aim at the target. Concentration is written all over his face transforming him into the very picture of a glorious, stunning, breathtakingly beautiful angel.
Anthony Crowley is clearly affected and gasps causing the radiant being to start, lose his concentration, jerk the bow sidewards and let the arrow fly.
Said arrow shoots towards the nearest bystander, collides with a pan that comes flying practically out of nowhere (it did) and which no-one remembers throwing (a certain demon does), changes it's course, flies straight at a vending machine, changes its course again and hits the backside of the dumbstruck gentleman who shot it in the first place.
The gentleman utters an "Oh", turns his head and stares at his buttock with a most incredulous look on his face.
And Anthony Crowley starts laughing.
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