Hmm... After a short break in which I threw myself into reading a LOT of Good Omens fics, I am back, and I have more stories brewing on the backburner. And that means those promised prize fics are coming along too. Yay! But I wanted to toss this out to let everyone know I'm not dead. It's possibly the shortest one I've done (and that saying something.), but fear not... Some of the new stuff will be semi-long... For me, anyway.

This was written outside under moonlight. Because I can.


"You know the best thing about this world? The really best thing? The food."

Such musings were typical of Valentine, whom Helena suspected strongly was more stomach than anything else. But she half-smiled as she watched him devour a tin of assorted biscuits.

Then again, she supposed, the White City was more aesthetic than practical, so she couldn't have put many restaurants or stores in. That was kind of unfair... Maybe she should make some?

Her reverie was interrupted when she noticed Valentine holding the tin out to her.

"Last one. Want it?" he offered.

She looked inside, expecting a plain and probably broken remnant, but to her mild surprise it was one of the ones with chocolate drizzled on it.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the poffered sweet. She never really could resist chocolate.

"Sooo... Got anything else to eat?"

Laughing, she rummaged in the cabinet and threw a bag of crisps at him.


I'm American, so writing "biscuits" and "crisps" fill me with an inordinate amount of glee.

Come to think of it, British swear words do, too...

Ciao!

-SN