Offered lunch and looked pathetic. Shouldn't just let you go. Obviously that could mean a great deal of things, but did Anthony have any idea just how his wording actually made their dynamic sound?
Aziraphale leaned in to meet him.
And sat back into his chair with his head buzzing in confusion. Anthony was going on something car something litres and scratches and Aziraphale wasn't even hearing him.
1793. Paris.
The Lourvre opened to the public around that time. France was in the throes of revolution, wasn't it? Logically there was no reason for two Englishmen...well, an Englishman and a Scot, technically maybe, to be anywhere near France at the time if they wanted to keep their heads... Let alone for two modern day people --
"You exploded an officer's ticket-book just to get out of a parking ticket?" Focusing on judging him for possible actions was totally a good use of time.
He opened his mouth to offer actual useful input, and closed it again with a frown that wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips. The Reign of Terror. One of mine or one of yours. Time-travel? His own dreams of witchcraft seemed less far-fetched by the second.
"So, were we in the 1930s in this one? Or 40s, somewhere appropriate for your, what did you say it was? A Bentley? Because I'm absolutely certain my memory was the modern era; you had," he waved abstractly at Anthony's person, "modern hair and skinny jeans."
no subject
Aziraphale leaned in to meet him.
And sat back into his chair with his head buzzing in confusion. Anthony was going on something car something litres and scratches and Aziraphale wasn't even hearing him.
1793. Paris.
The Lourvre opened to the public around that time. France was in the throes of revolution, wasn't it? Logically there was no reason for two Englishmen...well, an Englishman and a Scot, technically maybe, to be anywhere near France at the time if they wanted to keep their heads... Let alone for two modern day people --
"You exploded an officer's ticket-book just to get out of a parking ticket?" Focusing on judging him for possible actions was totally a good use of time.
He opened his mouth to offer actual useful input, and closed it again with a frown that wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips. The Reign of Terror. One of mine or one of yours. Time-travel? His own dreams of witchcraft seemed less far-fetched by the second.
"So, were we in the 1930s in this one? Or 40s, somewhere appropriate for your, what did you say it was? A Bentley? Because I'm absolutely certain my memory was the modern era; you had," he waved abstractly at Anthony's person, "modern hair and skinny jeans."