After a long sigh and a stare off, Aziraphale tut-tuted. “Have fun on your 'vacation' dear. This shop won't run itself, after all, and I'm sure you're just exaggerating. And to think I got unorganized for nothing. Well, it was time to change the arrangement of the books anyway...”
Huffing, Crowley resorted to grabbing an armful of books and hoofing it outside to the Bentley.
“Get back here! That was Wilde!”
The demon put the books in the backseat and started the car with a thought. “Come on angel, get in or kiss the books goodbye!” He yelled, having always secretly wanted to say that.
“You are SO getting smote for this,” Aziraphale responded, finally heading outside and climbing into the front passenger seat. “Carry on then,” he said, crossing his arms and staring out the window.
Locking the doors, Crowley pressed on the gas, going from 0 to 90 in .5 seconds.
“YOU CAN'T GO 90 DOWN OXFORD - WOULD YOU STOP SWERVING TO HIT PEDESTRIANS?!”
“They shouldn't be out at this time anyway!!” Crowley responded, honking and then flipping off another driver. “Stuff it up your—“ He cut himself off as he swerved wildly to miss a semi.
“It's NOON for someone's sake, Crowley!” The angel miracled a little old lady very quickly across the road, despite the fact that she used a cane.
“Whee!” yelled the old lady.
“My point exactly. They should be home--bugger off you stupid wanker!!--having lunch or taking a nap or working. Not walking down the streets.”
Aziraphale clenched his fists. “Do the words ‘smite you in the face’ mean ANYTHING to you?”
Crowley ignored him, squeezing in between two cars to pass them, even though it shouldn't have been remotely physically possible. “I’m in a hurry.”
“That doesn't give you the right - oh bugger it. Where are we going and why and DON'T tell me you'll tell me later, you'll tell me NOW.”
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Huffing, Crowley resorted to grabbing an armful of books and hoofing it outside to the Bentley.
“Get back here! That was Wilde!”
The demon put the books in the backseat and started the car with a thought. “Come on angel, get in or kiss the books goodbye!” He yelled, having always secretly wanted to say that.
“You are SO getting smote for this,” Aziraphale responded, finally heading outside and climbing into the front passenger seat. “Carry on then,” he said, crossing his arms and staring out the window.
Locking the doors, Crowley pressed on the gas, going from 0 to 90 in .5 seconds.
“YOU CAN'T GO 90 DOWN OXFORD - WOULD YOU STOP SWERVING TO HIT PEDESTRIANS?!”
“They shouldn't be out at this time anyway!!” Crowley responded, honking and then flipping off another driver. “Stuff it up your—“ He cut himself off as he swerved wildly to miss a semi.
“It's NOON for someone's sake, Crowley!” The angel miracled a little old lady very quickly across the road, despite the fact that she used a cane.
“Whee!” yelled the old lady.
“My point exactly. They should be home--bugger off you stupid wanker!!--having lunch or taking a nap or working. Not walking down the streets.”
Aziraphale clenched his fists. “Do the words ‘smite you in the face’ mean ANYTHING to you?”
Crowley ignored him, squeezing in between two cars to pass them, even though it shouldn't have been remotely physically possible. “I’m in a hurry.”
“That doesn't give you the right - oh bugger it. Where are we going and why and DON'T tell me you'll tell me later, you'll tell me NOW.”