Chapter Three: Look What You've Done

AN: WOO THIRD CHAPTER. Note the seemingly random title!

Here's an ACTUAL CONVERSATION Julie and I had about CaptainEmo's question in regards to Weird Al's "Albuquerque":

21:09 k.rhyme just in time: WOO WE GET POINTS FOR THINGS WE DIDN'T EVEN DO!

21:09 k.rhyme just in time: nonexistent allusions woo!

21:09 I wish pre calc was a person so I could stab it in the face.: no, actually it was.

21:09 I wish pre calc was a person so I could stab it in the face.: all me.

21:09 k.rhyme just in time:...news to me!

21:09 I wish pre calc was a person so I could stab it in the face.: yeah well

21:09 k.rhyme just in time: though i fail to see how this relates to you finding tibetan names.

This is how true geniuses work, people.

Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to a lot of people, none of who are named Krissy or Julie.

--

A very long, tea-less time later Aziraphale and Crowley arrived. A slightly less long time later, they were finally out of the plane and standing near the carousel where masses of people were collecting their luggage and leaving. These people did not include Aziraphale and Crowley

"Hm." said Aziraphale. "There seems to be a problem here."

"A large sort of problem." the kind that Crowley usually solved by drinking. Or hitting things. Or both!

"No." said Aziraphale.

"What?" Crowley attempted affronted innocence, but it came out sounding more like a sick duck getting sat on.

"Violence is never the answer, my dear."

"Who said I was considering violence?"

Aziraphale gave him a Look.

"Well not much anyway," Crowley muttered.

"What we need is a nice cup of tea."

"And that will help us find our luggage, will it?" Crowley asked, conveniently ignoring the fact that getting drunk and hitting things would be no more useful than tea for that particular problem.

"No," said Aziraphale. "But it will make me less likely to light something on fire again."

"Oh. Right. Shall we find a tea shop?" Aziraphale sparkled. It was immensely embarrassing and disturbing and Crowley rather hoped that no one around them was watching, which, of course, they were. He made a noise of deep, deep shame. Like "ggggggggggggndfds", or something dying underneath a large rock. Aziraphale gave him another Look.

"What?" said Crowley once again, this time with feeling. Aziraphale sniffed meaningfully, though Crowley was not sure just what the meaning was. Crowley wasn't really sure where the conversation was headed, but he was fairly certain that it was going somewhere he probably wasn't fond of. Like Panama or the 14th century. "Tea!" He shouted, in an attempt to keep it from going there. "I'm sure there's some this way!"

Aziraphale perked up. "Tally ho!"

They set off through the airport, which wasn't nearly as large as the one in London, but they still managed to get themselves lost in the space of a few minutes. Needless to say, there was not a teashop to be seen, or any of their luggage. Which was not making Crowley any happier. A short person chose this exact moment to run into Crowley, knocking him over.

"AROELKSDJGHKGSLIT!" Crowley shouted at the person. Which did no good whatsoever, but it made Crowley feel a little bit better. It also made quite a lot of people stare at him.

"My dear boy," Aziraphale murmured, "Stop that at once, you look like an enormous twat."

"I'll stop when I get out of this bloody airport!"

"Shouldn't we find our luggage first?"

"Let the luggage find us. I say we leave."

"And how exactly is our luggage supposed to do that, Crowley? It's inanimate. It doesn't move."

"It does now."

Aziraphale did not say anything in a manner that implied he was contemplating doing something nasty to Crowley. Like singing. Or knitting him legwarmers.

"What?" Crowley protested. "It's not like I did anything BAD to it!"

"And what, pray tell, have you done to our luggage?"

"Turned it into sapient pearwood."

"..." said Aziraphale ominously.

"And what's wrong with that?" Crowley demanded.

"EVERYTHING!"

"Such as?"

Aziraphale's hands made little twitching motions. Crowley smirked at him. "Shall we find somewhere to sit while we wait for our luggage to get here?"

"...as long as there is a theoretical cup of tea in this situation, I no longer care."

"Good." Crowley started down a hallway that they had inexplicably not looked in before, and shortly after they were seated in a shop, waiting for their tea to be brought out.

Aziraphale crossed his legs. He looked tired, which was unusual and highly amusing to Crowley because he was honestly that much of a prat. "And what did you have planned after we get out of here?" the demon inquired.

"Well, we have to check in to the hotel, of course."

"Do we have one in mind?"

A waitress stopped by their table and set down two cups of tea--Aziraphale wrinkled his nose at the tea bags, because he was a bit of a tea snob--and he gave Crowley a pointed look. "If by 'have one in mind' you mean that we already have reservations at one, then yes."

"I see. And do we have a way to get there?"

"You're the one who drives."

"You weren't saying that in the other airport."

Aziraphale drank some tea at Crowley instead of replying. Crowley made a face at him.

"Besides, I thought you would want to pick out the car."

Crowley was saved from having to answer that by some loud screams moving down the hallway towards them.

"No," said Aziraphale in horror.

"Yes," Crowley told him in a decidedly smug way.

Because barreling down the hallway like a demon out of hell, pardon the expression, was their luggage. And it was leaving a trail of havoc in its wake. The two pieces of perfectly ordinary baggage had been transformed into two wooden trunks and sprouted countless little legs, and were running towards their owners, biting or trampling everyone who got in their way.

"Crowley," Aziraphale hissed. "Someone is going to notice!"

"Really? You think so?"

Aziraphale drank some tea at him in pure spiteful rage. Crowley smirked again.

Someone in the background made a noise like AAAAAAAJdslfkjdlkfs,a! "Still," Crowley commented, "Much fun as this is, I suppose we don't want it connected to us."

"Perhaps not." Abruptly, the screaming stopped. Aziraphale resisted the urge to throw his teabag at Crowley because that would be childish and something that Crowley would do to him, not the other way around. Instead he kicked him in the shin underneath the table.

"What was that for?" Crowley yelped. "I turned it back, didn't I?"

"I don't know what you're talking about--oh look Crowley, our luggage! Why don't you go fetch it?"

"I'll let you do that, angel. I should go see about that car you didn't rent for us."

And Crowley did, except there was only one small problem: there were no cars available.

"What?" said Aziraphale blankly.

"There are none here." Crowley explained again.

"Er."

"Of course, we could take a taxi to the hotel, but you assured me that you had everything taken care of, so I don't have much cash."

Aziraphale was saved from having to make an intelligent reply when they were interrupted by a commotion over to their left. "Someone's stolen my wallet!" A person screamed, pointing towards a figure running towards the exit. Aziraphale frowned in a way that suggested he was about to do something about this when Crowley poked him in the forehead.

"We're not getting involved."

"Why not?"

"We don't want to draw attention to ourselves! And there's no way we could accomplish anything if we did it the way mortals do!"

"Where there's a will, there's a way!"

"Oh, no." Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hand and started running towards the thief, dragging him along behind. "No!" Crowley protested ineffectually. "I refuse! I can't be caught helping people!"

"We're on vacation, it's not like it matters." Aziraphale replied, dodging people lugging suitcases.

"But--" Crowley started again, but realized it was pointless and gave up

"Stop, you!" Aziraphale yelled, which did absolutely nothing at all. Crowley longed to point this out but had decided that the quickest way to end this was to catch the thief. Instead, he concentrated on running. Which, come to think of it, also seemed rather pointless, since he didn't know what they were supposed to do if they caught him.

Maybe Aziraphale would let him punch the guy! That would be fun. Or if he could turn him into something. Like a slug!

Crowley ran faster.

They chased the thief out of the airport and into a parking lot, where quite a lot of people gave them funny looks. But the man was beginning to slow down, for Crowley and Aziraphale had a natural advantage over him--they didn't have to breathe. Or run around cars, which was probably what was getting them the looks. Crowley wondered vaguely what had happened to not attracting attention.

The man chose this moment to look back and simultaneously run into a concrete wall.

"Can I punch him?" Crowley asked as he and Aziraphale skidded to a halt in classic cartoon style.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," said the angel absentmindedly, picking up the purse the man had dashed off with.

"That's no reason. What do we do with that?"

"Give it back, of course."

"Where's the person he stole it from?"

"...er."

"Yes?"

"Back there?" Aziraphale waved feebly in the direction of the airport.

"I see." Crowley said in a tone of voice that suggested that he was not about to go back there and look. Luckily for him, a girl ran out yelling about her purse at that exact moment.

"Well, there you go," said Aziraphale and handed the purse to Crowley. He looked at it blankly. The girl ran up to him and stopped short, glaring at him angrily. Crowley transferred his blank look to her, but felt that it was somewhat lacking in effectiveness, as it was hidden behind his sunglasses.

"My purse! You...brute!"

"What?" The girl tried to grab her purse and unthinkingly, Crowley moved it out of her reach. "Give it back! I'll call the police!"

Aziraphale sighed mournfully and gave Crowley a disapproving look while simultaneously grabbing the purse from the demon. "Here you are, miss." The girl snatched her purse back with a sniff, and a glare for Crowley.

"Hey!"

Glare, went the girl.

Crowley felt this was largely unfair. There didn't seem to be anything he could do about it, though.

"Thank you," said the girl to Aziraphale.

"What? Hey!"

Aziraphale patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. Crowley resisted the urge to smack him. "I know he may look like a ruffian, but Crowley is really quite nice. He's the one who saved your purse from that man." Aziraphale indicated the unconscious lump behind them. The girl looked somewhat mollified, but Crowley did not trust this and took the opportunity to ask the angel if he didn't think they ought to be off now. "Are you going to be all right, miss?" was how Aziraphale chose to reply to this.

"I suppose so..."

"Maybe we should escort you outside."

"We are outside." Crowley pointed out through gritted teeth.

"Maybe we should escort you home."

"No, that's quite alright. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure, Miss--I am very sorry, what is your name?" Aziraphale was a stickler for manners. This, like many others, was a trait that Crowley found immensely annoying.

"Gulu."

"Well, Miss Gulu, I'm Mr. Fell and this is my associate, Crowley."

"Thank you Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley, for the return of my purse, but I'm afraid I really do have to be going now. Good day to you." The girl turned abruptly and walked off.

"She was nice, wasn't she?" said Aziraphale happily. Crowley stared at him. "Well, she was!" Aziraphale said defensively, and then paused. "...we still don't have our luggage."

"That's because you insisted on running off and leaving it inside."

Aziraphale frowned. "But it wasn't even inside, dear."

"Yes. It was. You picked it up."

"...I had hoped I was imaging that part." Crowley threw a rock at him. Aziraphale made an undignified squawking noise.

"Can we go now?"

"I suppose so."

"Good. Let's go collect the luggage." They looked somewhat halfheartedly around the parking lot, but the luggage was nowhere in sight. Crowley swore and a nearby car started to beep loudly.

"Now, dear."

Crowley blinked and the car went silent.

"That's better."

"So what're we doing now?"

"Why, we track down the luggage, of course!" Aziraphale replied, clapping his hands excitedly.

"Or...I could just make it come here."

Aziraphale looked pained. "Again?"

Crowley smiled. It was not a very nice smile. Or a very sane one.

"Fine. Fine! Have it your way!"

Crowley waved his hand. They waited for a minute. There were screams in the distance.

A car alarm started to go off but was quickly silenced, followed by a large crunching noise.

Another minute passed.

Something that might or might not have once been a car engine went flying past Crowley's head and lay smoldering on the concrete. There were several loud crashing noises, followed by a piercing shriek.

"I think it found us," said Crowley happily.

"Oh, good." Aziraphale replied weakly.

The luggage bounded up to them! Like a puppy! A murderous puppy, but a happy one nonetheless. Aziraphale waved his hand at it and it turned back into ordinary suitcases;

Crowley smiled fondly, and then turned to Aziraphale. "So what comes after the luggage?"

Aziraphale wondered briefly if Crowley was being this annoying on purpose. "We should probably check in at the hotel."

"And we were getting there how...?"

"By car? Unless you'd prefer to walk."

"And what car would that be?"

The angel sighed. "Walking it is, then."

"Then again, that looks like a nice car, let's take that one!"

"What--Crowley--we can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's wrong."

"Why? No one's using it!"

Aziraphale made an anguished face. "But--it's not the Bentley!"

Crowley shrugged. "It's black, it's shiny, and it's not like I won't have the Bentley when we get back."

More anguished face making.

"That means we can take it, right?" Crowley got into the car, not waiting for an answer.

Aziraphale sighed but got in anyway.

"Now," Crowley said, not quite smugly as he pointed at the ignition, causing the car to start. "Which way to the hotel?"

"I don't know."

"Fine then. We can go this way."

"Delightful," Aziraphale muttered.

Crowley only grinned, then slammed the acceleration. "Agjk!" said Aziraphale in surprise.

"Whatever is the matter?"

The angel made a small pitiable noise like "geh".

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I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. JULIE IS A MEAN PERSON. FEEL FREE TO COMMENT ON THIS.