coprime_recs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coprime_recs) wrote2006-06-19 11:48 pm
coprime_recs) wrote2006-06-19 11:48 pm
Entry tags:
Good Omens: Devil's Dance by Gehayi
Devil's Dance (Crowley-Aziraphale | PG | 4,895 words): Crowley and Aziraphale make a bet as to who's the better dancer. This is just neat and fun, especially the details about the dance marathon.
Excerpt:
Whatever the angel might have said next was drowned out by the voice of the emcee explaining the rules. The rules were very simple: dancing, aside from the thirty-second breaks between songs, had to be continuous. There were breaks, if you wanted to call them that--fifteen minutes rest every four hours. And if anyone stopped dancing at any other time, he or she was out of the contest for good.
Aziraphale turned horrified eyes toward Crowley. "Crowley, this is cruel. These poor, half-starved children--they'll never survive it!"
"Miracle them some stamina, then," said Crowley absent-mindedly, then flushed, grimacing as if biting his tongue.
Aziraphale folded his arms across his chest and scowled at the demon. "No using supernatural powers, you said. First person to use them loses the wager."
"I said no using supernatural powers to win," Crowley corrected. "A few minor miracles to help the mortals keep up with us--well, it's not something my people care about, but if it keeps you focused on what's important, I'm willing to go along with it. It's not as if we haven't done each other's jobs before." He gazed heavenward, wearing a martyred expression.
"That's not the point," muttered Aziraphale.
"No," replied Crowley agreeably, as loud brassy music began playing. "The point is, the band's started and you have ten seconds to get on the dance floor." He grabbed hold of Aziraphale's hand, took two steps, and released the angel's hand. "There. Now, DANCE!"
With that, he slipped away into the crowd and was lost from view.
Aziraphale stared helplessly at the crowd of rapidly gyrating dancers, gritted his teeth and began to do a partnerless gavotte.
Excerpt:
Whatever the angel might have said next was drowned out by the voice of the emcee explaining the rules. The rules were very simple: dancing, aside from the thirty-second breaks between songs, had to be continuous. There were breaks, if you wanted to call them that--fifteen minutes rest every four hours. And if anyone stopped dancing at any other time, he or she was out of the contest for good.
Aziraphale turned horrified eyes toward Crowley. "Crowley, this is cruel. These poor, half-starved children--they'll never survive it!"
"Miracle them some stamina, then," said Crowley absent-mindedly, then flushed, grimacing as if biting his tongue.
Aziraphale folded his arms across his chest and scowled at the demon. "No using supernatural powers, you said. First person to use them loses the wager."
"I said no using supernatural powers to win," Crowley corrected. "A few minor miracles to help the mortals keep up with us--well, it's not something my people care about, but if it keeps you focused on what's important, I'm willing to go along with it. It's not as if we haven't done each other's jobs before." He gazed heavenward, wearing a martyred expression.
"That's not the point," muttered Aziraphale.
"No," replied Crowley agreeably, as loud brassy music began playing. "The point is, the band's started and you have ten seconds to get on the dance floor." He grabbed hold of Aziraphale's hand, took two steps, and released the angel's hand. "There. Now, DANCE!"
With that, he slipped away into the crowd and was lost from view.
Aziraphale stared helplessly at the crowd of rapidly gyrating dancers, gritted his teeth and began to do a partnerless gavotte.