The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 47: Found

Chapter 47: Found

"Angel!"

Someone was snapping in Aziraphale's face. Irksome! He swatted.

"Will you stop fretting already," Anathema growled. He turned to her with a rather annoyed look. "We need you here. Help me with this translation."

Sighing, he replaced his readers on his face, and muttered, "Cheese." Then returned his stare to the door.

"It's not cheese, damn it."

"Language! Oh!" The angel turned back and wiped his face underneath the glasses. "No, says, 'Come here ye 'insert name here.'"

"Thank you!" the witch countered, pulling the book back for her inspection.

Tracy yawn, and looked between the both of them. "He's just worried, dear. And we're all very tired."

"Must we go over this a fifth time?" the angel bemoaned, his eyes not diverting from the door.

The witch glowered sourly, "Do you want me to accidently set the back of your retinas on fire?"

He waved a hand, "Oh, pish posh! You know this front to back already. You know," he snapped his head back to her and pointed to the text," that isn't cheese!"

"Angel," Anathema offered, trying to calm herself," I know you're worried—"

"Why didn't I go with him?"

"You weren't invited."

"Hmph!"

"Aziraphale," Tracy cooed. "Have you ever liked the bar scene?"

The angel took off his glasses, and shook his head.

"Only with Crowley? Just the two of you?"

"He never invites anyone else," the angel let a tired smile slip. "When he asks me to come." Then he gave a meaningful look to the witch. "If you need me to retranslate, I will. But go to bed. You've been up longer than the rest of us. Goodness knows we need you bright and chipper for this thing."

"I have never been bright and chipper," she retorted, yawning and raising to stand.

"No, but you're always ready."

The witched graciously offered him a smile for that one.

"Good night, you two. And Tracy?"

"Yes?"

"Take him for walkies or something. He's worse than Dog right now."

Aziraphale's brow furrowed. "The nerve!"

"One more for the road, barkeep!" Crowley yelled happily, looking around for a mug to bang. He found it, a cigarette butt dancing on the surface of the drizzling suds at the bottom. With a grunt he tossed it out.

The girl behind the counter ignored him, keeping her back to the bar.

Crowley banged the mug." Oi, did ya hear me?"

"Of course, I heard you," the girl offered in a rather piping but harried voice. "You'll have to pay for that mug you broke."

"Paid for everything else." He pushed out his mug with a few fingers, and leaned hard against the rails. The girl didn't turn around.