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Mar. 14th, 2006 04:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
So I owe my landlord five hundred quid and my parents seven, I have no job, I have a nasty steenking cold, it's grey and wet and gross outside.
And I'm in such a good mood. And if that sounds sarcastic? SO NOT. I am chirpy as a masturbating parrot. WTF?
First five people to leave me a prompt get something ficcy. I dunno how long it'll be, but. Whatever you want, man.
And I'm in such a good mood. And if that sounds sarcastic? SO NOT. I am chirpy as a masturbating parrot. WTF?
First five people to leave me a prompt get something ficcy. I dunno how long it'll be, but. Whatever you want, man.
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Date: 2006-03-14 08:39 am (UTC)And now I potter off to write.
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Date: 2006-03-14 08:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 09:04 am (UTC)"Six, as a matter of fact."
"Six. Right."
Crowley was the very soul of elegance, his blazer and flannels rather darker than tradition dictated but immaculate, a straw boater pulled low over his eyes. He lounged back in his seat, watching the gentle jogging of the fielders with a curled lip.
"It's not as though they're putting their backs into it, is it?"
Aziraphale settled back in his own chair, fingers laced across his stomach, and beamed good-naturedly at the field.
"There's really no point, my dear. Once it's over the boundary, the six runs are theirs regardless."
"So why six? It's just a pointless number."
"All numbers are, in my experience."
"That'd be all that blasted Trinity rot. Three in one and one in three and three decimal point one four - yes, you may well blush. I know that whole pi thing was your idea, you contrary b-"
"Really, my dear." But Aziraphale's expression didn't quite match the touch of pleasure in his voice - he did so like it when his work was appreciated. "And it's not contrary in the least. It's keeping the mathematicians in gainful employment, at least, which is terribly important what with their constant discovering of laws and rules and nonsense."
"Laws of physics," Crowley said smugly. "Best work I ever did - I doubt if your side has got a single scientist. All the star charts and patterns, some of the most aesthetically pleasing graphology around, and it just looks as though it were designed by some amazing - " Crowley lifted one languid hand and gestured " - celestial painter - "
"That was almost poetic, you know."
" - and they take this as a reason not to believe in Himself. It's bloody hilarious."
Aziraphale scowled in response to Crowley's smirk.
"Yes. Well. Pi is doing an awful lot to redress that balance; speaking of which, weren't there supposed to be refreshments?"
"You're not interested in the cricket?"
Aziraphale looked down at the field again; figures all dressed in white going about their business, defined rules, sporsmanlike behaviour...
"Not particularly," he said, turning his back to it. "I prefer something with a little less predictability to it. So pie, I think, it is."
"Oh ha," said Crowley dryly, "de-bloody ha ha." But he matched his stride to Aziraphale's unconsciously, just the same, and they walked off the field together.
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Date: 2006-03-14 09:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-14 09:50 am (UTC)Glad you liked.
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Date: 2006-03-14 09:54 am (UTC)I liked a great deal. Especially the referene to pi. ;)