In Crowley's Absence

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

A flash and a rattle come from the wardrobe where the angel and demon had stored their feathers when they'd fallen off. Magic such as those feathers held needed to be kept safe. Until...well, until they became a way for quality control to get in.

She emerged from the funny little closet, surprised that she wasn't entirely angel. Her tongue was forked and she had scales. Isn't that queer. Hmm

SHe smelled cooking wafting up from the stairway, but her real interest lay with the angel on the bed. She walked over and poked him.

Coooo. Crrroooo. Cooo
//Get up. You're in trouble too.//

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[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Without Crowley around, Aziraphale hadn't even planned on sleeping in the bed. In fact, he hadn't planned on sleeping at all. But after a really delightful visit with Wilson, which had at the same time deeply disturbed him -- it was obvious his friend was suffering emotionally, and there was some investigation ahead on that front -- he'd spent most of the night reading and finally stretched out on the bed to rest a little and try not to think of Crowley.

That part of the plan hadn't really worked, but he had rested a little.

Sitting bolt upright at the strange little sound, followed by a voice he feels rather than hears, he looks around the room a little frantically. Spotting the strange little...girl? standing nearby, his eyes widen and he stammers a little.

"Er, can I...help you? I mean, what--how--I beg your pardon?"

Then he realizes. This isn't a customer. This isn't someone who's wandered in off the street.

This...is trouble.

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

Looking utterly exasperated, she reaches out and pokes him again.

Coooo. Crrooooo, cooo.
//Get up, you lazy Principality.//

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale jumps, pulling away a little at the prod.

"Er...I am up. And I'm not lazy. I was just resting my eyes."

Yes, it's a ridiculous thing to say. But there's a girl with wings and scales standing in his bedroom cooing and poking at him. Can you blame him?

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

She blinks at him, a slow and lazy blink reminiscent of part of what makes up this physical form. Her sweet smile breaks every now and again as her wee pink tongue darts out to taste the air.

Coo...crrrrooooooo, cooooo
//Do you understand why I've come, Aziraphale?//

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Why is it that this creature reminds him so of Crowley?

Aziraphale slides off the bed -- the opposite side of the bed, putting it between him and the girl -- and straightens his clothes nervously. He's not certain what she is, but he feels fairly certain he knows where she's come from.

"I...er...perhaps it would be best if you told me. Just so I don't make any incorrect assumptions."

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

She sighs, and crosses her arms, watching him. Smoothing her hair with one hand, she strides around the bed and pokes him again.

Crrooo, cooo. Coooo Crrroooo Coo. Crrrrooooo.
//The Demon was recalled to Hell to be assessed. We do not have that kind of time. Also, we feel we'd rather see you do your job rather than cower and beg. Therefore, we have sent the Magdalene, given body of your feathers.//

She smiles sweetly, and skips away, out the door, and down the stairs. (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomtownies/473616.html?thread=18951440#t18951440)

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

"Given body of my...?" A thought occurs to him, and Aziraphale peers into the wardrobe. Indeed, where there was once a pile of hoarded and forgotten feathers, there is now...nothing. He turns and looks toward the stairs, and then the rest of the message hits him.

Assessed.

"Bugger!" the angel mutters, hurrying off downstairs after the divine inspector.