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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

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Promises Not Kept Part 20

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 20: The Shelbys return to Arrow House and Tommy arranges for a proper wedding but not before he pays someone a visit and brings home a surprise.

Charlie was elated to be back at Arrow House. He leaped out of the car and dashed across the lawn. “Mumma!” He beckoned Leah, pointing at the stables. The entire drive back he’d chattered nonstop about seeing the horses again. Listing them all off one by one by name. Reminding Leah which one was which. Although Toffee and Honey were the exact same color, Toffee had a white blaze and Honey had three white socks.

Leah smiled; I was so nice to see the little boy able to run about. She didn’t have to worry if he was outside. He could roam the large space as long as she had him in eyesight.

Tommy opened the passenger side door for her and helped her out. “Glad he’ll be able to tire himself out.”

She hummed in agreement. “I suppose we should walk with him to the stables though. He’ll never stop pestering us.” She began to walk but his fingers slipped from hers.

“There’s one last thing I need to do.” The fall in her face was unmistakable. Things were supposed to be perfect once everything was settled. But there was still one loose end Tommy needed to take care of.

“Tom…”

“I’ll be back later tonight with a bouquet of flowers that’ll be too heavy to carry.” He promised with an endearing look.

Leah pouted but sighed. “Be quick then.”

He kissed her cheek and waited until she was off with Charlie to the stables. Then, he got back in the car and headed for Margate.

~~~~~~~~

Tommy returned just after Leah and Charlie finished dinner. He wasn’t lugging along the purported bouquet. Instead, he was holding his side and leading a massive dog.

Mary was the first to spot him from the window. The man stumbling up to the front steps. The older woman hurried out to help him.

“Is Johnny here?” Tommy wheezed and tossed the dog leash to Mary who looked bewildered.

“He’s in the dining room with your wife and son. Mr. Shelby…”

He waved her off. “Take Cyril inside, he’ll be needing water. Maybe some food as well.”

Mary awkwardly held the lead and looked at the slobbering dog. The beast was huge but seemed very docile despite the circumstances they’d just come from.

Tommy managed to get inside and to the dining room. The room was starting to spin from the pain he’d been in for the long drive back home. He burst through the doors of the dining room where Leah was talking with Johnny; Charlie was sitting on her lap nearly half-asleep.

Leah jumped up when she saw her husband doubled over in pain. Blood was seeping through the fingers that were pressed to his side. The white shirt he’d left in, had been stained deep red. “Tommy!”

“Johnny, I need you to take a bullet out for me.”

“Daddy?” Charlie’s eyes widened and he clung to Leah. Weighing the consequences, she swept the little boy out of the room so he wouldn’t have to see his father bleeding. “Dog!” Charlie’s attention quickly turned when she brought him into the foyer.

Leah jolted to a halt when she saw Mary standing there with a bull mastiff. “What on Earth is going on?” She exclaimed by the maid seemed just as dumbfounded as she was.

Charlie squirmed out of Leah’s arms and rushed over to greet the four-legged visitor. “Hi!” Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the dog to give him a great big hug.

Cyril sniffed his blond hair, his tail beginning to wag happily. After he lost his owner, the little boy’s affection was a welcome one.

“Mary, please watch him,” Leah said before turning back into the dining room.

Tommy’s blood-stained shirt was on the floor and Johnny had pulled out a blade.

“Leah, wouldya bring that vodka over?” Johnny asked.

Shaking, she grabbed the bottle of clear liquid and handed it to him. “Tommy, what happened? Who did this?”

Her husband had gone pale and was sweating from the pain and blood loss. He simply shook his head.

“Gonna hafta hold him down, this won’t be pretty,” Johnny informed Leah. “Take a drink, Tom.”

Tommy took a swig from the bottle. Then Johnny doused the bullet wound and his blade with the rest of the vodka.

Leah got behind Tommy and wrapped her arms around his upper body. His sweat soaking into the thin sleeves of her silk blouse. She pressed her cheek to his temple. “I’ve got you. It’ll be alright.”

Tommy tensed up when he felt the tip of Johnny’s blade start to work at the bullet lodged in his skin. He jerked against Leah’s arms and pinched his eyes shut.

“Sh, sh…” His wife hushed as steadily as she could. She tightened her grip around him, doing her best to hold him back as he fought against her.

“Easy, Tom, nearly got it out.”

Tommy let out a loud shout of pain and he struggled in Leah’s arms. “Fuck!”

“Breathe.” Leah kissed his cheek and tried to keep his attention away from the pain.

“There ya go.” Johnny dropped the blood-covered bullet onto the pristine tablecloth. “Keep that on it, put pressure on it. I’ll find some proper bandages.” He handed Leah a cloth napkin to press on the wound.

She held the napkin in place and came around to face Tommy. “It’s over.” She grabbed another napkin to dab the sweat off his face.

His chest heaved as the pain slowly diminished. He tilted his head back and he blindly reached out for Leah. His hand met her cheek, thumb smoothing over her skin.

“What happened, Tommy?” She whispered.

“I killed Alfie.” He responded with brutal honesty. “He shot me to get me to pull the trigger.”

“Why would he do that?” The notion sounded outrageous to Leah.

Tommy opened his eyes and lifted his head. The feeling of water sloshing around in his brain made him dizzy again. “He wanted to die. Knew it was all over, said he had cancer. Wanted to die on his own terms.”

It sent a shiver down Leah’s spine and she wasn’t sure how to respond. She swallowed and briefly checked the bullet wound. “And the dog?”

“He was Alfie’s, he wanted me to take him when he died. His name is Cyril. I couldn’t leave him.”

“Is this over now?”

His eyes slid closed again. “Yeah, love. We’ll get married and I’ll take a break. Told Polly I would.”

“Good.”

Tommy’s hand fell from her cheek and he let out a heavy exhale. “Need to rest.” He needed to rest before he walked into the House of Commons.

~~~~~~~~~

Cyril was loyal to a strong presence. Before his death, it had been Alfie. But once the bullmastiff adjusted to living at Arrow House, it was Tommy. Cyril loved Charlie, adored trotting after the little boy as he romped about the manicured lawns. He also liked Leah who called him handsome and gave him tummy rubs.

But at the end of the day, Cyril listened to Tommy. Always came when he called, sat at his feet when he sat down, curled up on the floor on Tommy’s side of the bed every night. Tucked his tail between his legs in shame when Tommy scolded him. Not that the man could be mad at him for more than a few seconds. Cyril’s sad eyes and droopy face were too difficult to stay mad at.

So on Tommy’s wedding day, Cyril followed the man around, as he got ready. Pushing aside the other Shelbys to get the closest to his owner.

Arthur wrinkled his nose at the large dog. “Tell me why you kept it?”

“He’s a good companion for Charlie,” Tommy replied, concentrating on fixing his bowtie.

Of course, that was an afterthought on the beach. What sealed the deal was when Tommy gathered the strength to sit up. The mastiff was sitting over Alfie’s body as it bled out. The dog’s harmless eyes met his and Tommy’s gut wrenched. He tried standing and was going to turn to leave without the mastiff.

But he couldn’t get more than a few shuffling steps across the sand he’d stained red. So he stopped and turned around. “C’mon, then.” He’d called.

But Cyril didn’t move. He sniffed at Alfie again, nosing at his shoulder.

“C’mon Cyril.”

He didn’t budge.

“He’s gone, come along.” Tommy winced in pain as he patted his thigh and whistled, trying everything to get the dog to follow. Eventually, after calling several times and feeling like an idiot, he crossed the gap between him and Alfie and gathered Cyril’s leash. Pulling it from Alfie’s limp hand. “He wanted me to take you. You’ll be alright.”

“Sorta…goofy ain’t he?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at the comically large dog.

Indeed, he was goofy. Didn’t seem to acknowledge his own size. Despite it never working, Cyril tried to climb up on Tommy’s desk chair while he was working in his office. There was absolutely no way a dog of his size would fit but it didn’t seem to bother him as he smushed his way into Tommy’s lap before the man shook him away.

Leah said he was a living vacuum cleaner, always able to find the tiniest of crumbs on the floor. He crawled his way under the tablecloth and rested his chin in Charlie’s lap, his eyes begging for scraps of food. Even after inhaling his own dinner, the dog seemed to always have room for more.

Tommy especially loved when he found Cyril curled up with Charlie in bed. The two listening to Leah tell them a story. The mastiff waited, along with Leah, until the little boy fell asleep. Then, Cyril carefully jumped off Charlie’s bed and followed Leah to bed.

He was goofy, but he was a member of the family.

“Well, how’d you feel then?” Arthur smiled and clapped his brother on the back. “Walking down the aisle, again?”

Tommy hinted a smile and nodded. “A long time coming.”

“Well, rumor is the bride looks a picture.” Arthur passed him a flask. Tommy took a quick drink. “Now let’s get you to the church.”

~~~~~~~~

Since Charlie was older than he was when Grace and Tommy got married, he was able to be at the wedding. In fact, he was given the task of being the ring bearer. All dressed up in a little suit and practicing walking down the aisle with his aunts and uncles before the big day arrived. Leah encouraged it because Charlie was a big part of the arrangement. She was marrying Tommy but they were formally creating a family. And although Charlie wasn’t her blood, she had left behind the worries she once had. Never would she disparage Grace’s memory. But Charlie was her son now and would be until her dying days. Nothing would ever change that.

While they waited for the bride, Charlie clung to Tommy’s leg. He looked up at his father with innocent eyes.

“Mumma’s coming now?” He asked for the third time.

Tommy smiled and ruffled his hair. “She’s on her way.” There wasn’t any doubt that Leah would show up. Perhaps that was his ego being overconfident, or maybe it was simply the trust they’d built up.

“She’s gonna look pretty. That’s what Auntie Ada said.” Charlie pressed his cheek to Tommy’s leg.

“She always looks pretty.” But Tommy couldn’t help the stunned look on his face when the doors to the church opened and Leah walked out. Tradition be damned, Polly was escorting the bride down the aisle.

Leah was draped in a delicate blush dress, a thin veil of the same color concealing her face. She held a bouquet of roses and baby’s breath. She linked arms with Polly, tilting her head slightly to say something. Tommy’s aunt simply smiled in response.

Charlie shyly peered up at Leah as Tommy took her hand from Polly.

Tommy had to steady his heart as he gingerly lifted the veil from her face. Her blonde hair was curled to perfection and she wore a glow that couldn’t possibly be created by makeup. The two smiled at each other, almost in disbelief that they’d made it to the altar.

“Mumma,” Charlie whispered. “You look pretty.”

Leah crouched down to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, poppet.”

Tommy couldn’t keep his eyes off his bride even as Jeremiah began the ceremony.

~~~~~~~~~

The reception was in full swing and Arrow House was lit up like a Christmas Tree. The inside and outside were flooded with people all dancing, drinking, and laughing. Two bands kept the party going and most of the Blinders were already drunk enough to start up some sport. Johnny had already received permission to start up bets on a race.

Unlike his last wedding, there wasn’t much for Tommy to worry about. No Russians trying to ruin the evening. There was no one that needed to die. Everything was running smoothly.

It was around ten when Charlie began to sulk and grimace crankily at everyone. Crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his lower lip out. So Leah scooped him up to bring him upstairs to bed.

“Wanna stay up!” He whined.

“It’s well past your bedtime, poppet.” She murmured softly. “Besides, it’s a boring grown-up party.”

Cyril padded behind them, his ears perking up at every sound that traveled up the stairs from the party.

Charlie scrunched up his face. “No…”

“Yes, it’s no fun. I wish I could go to bed.” She teased and kissed his cheek. “I’m awfully tired.”

That prompted a yawn from the child who hadn’t realized how tired he was. “Okay.” He ceded, too exhausted to argue.

Leah got him dressed in pajamas and tucked into bed. She didn’t need to read him any stories or sing a lullaby because he was out cold by the time his head hit the pillow. She instructed Cyril to stay there and shut the door behind her to vainly try to block out any noise of the reveling downstairs. Hopefully, Charlie would be tired enough to sleep through the rowdiness.

As she stepped into the hall, she found Tommy was smoking by one of the large windows. “Ada said you brought him up to bed.”

“He was exhausted, took only a second to fall asleep.” She smiled and gathered the skirt of her dress in her hand to walk over to him. “Why’re you up here?”

“Needed some time away with my wife.”

“Is that so?” Mischief glinted in his blue eyes and he jerked his head towards the bedroom door. Not saying anything else but speaking with his eyes. “We’ve guests downstairs.” She reminded him but was already gravitating towards him.

“I have a reputation for disappearing during parties. They’ll understand.”

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ineffably-good · 5 years

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I Will Follow You Into the Dark (2/10) (Good Omens fic)

Read the whole thing on AO3 - it’s finished!

Summary: In which a snake learns he cannot be a ringbearer, and Aziraphale realizes he can get free cake for months.

Aziraphale was surprised to wake up the next morning after having apparently slept the entire night entangled with Crowley. This was a rarity for him – while he did occasionally indulge in a few hours of sleep, a half night was usually about the most he could pull off. This morning though, he let out a long breath and relaxed back into his partner’s arms. Why not indulge for a while longer?

The demon was so peaceful when he was sleeping – it was the only time Aziraphale ever really saw his face at rest. Usually watching Crowley’s face was a race just to keep up with the lightning-fast thoughts and changes in emotional states; when he slept, though, the lines and angles smoothed out and he looked younger, somehow, and much, much more vulnerable. It made the angel’s heart ache with adoration just to look at him.

“You’re staring at me, angel,” the demon muttered sleepily. “All prickly feeling.”

Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him on one eyebrow, then the other. “Just admiring, my dear,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmmhmm,” the demon mumbled, rolling away from him. “Not done yet.”

Aziraphale took pity and abandoned the bedroom, taking a moment to pull on a warm, cable-knit jumper. It was still a little chilly out, and as he padded downstairs he thoughtfully raised the ambient temperature by another ten degrees, hoping that it would maybe keep his companions comfortably awake for the rest of the day. He swung into the kitchen to set up the cappuccino maker, knowing the aroma would soon bring Crowley to his senses, and then headed out to survey the mess of wedding magazines from the previous night.

Frederick was up and moving, so he pulled him out to join him on the floor. Frederick hissed approvingly at being allowed to try out the new den; he burrowed under a magazine that was lying open and upside down, with just his head and tail sticking out of either side of the spine.

“It would nice if we could have you be part of the wedding ceremony, Frederick,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully.

OH SURE, NO PROBLEM. Frederick thought. WHAT’S A WEDDING, ANYWAYS?

“Think you could carry a ring?” Aziraphale asked. He pondered for a minute, and then slipped off his angelic sigil ring for a moment – he certainly wasn’t going to try this with his engagement ring, after all. Moving slowly and carefully, he placed it on the tip of Frederick’s tail, where it snugged down a few inches before coming to rest.

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Frederick shrieked, feeling both the cold metal and the touch of some kind of powerful energy on his tail. IS THAT SOME KIND OF COLLAR? I DON’T WEAR COLLARS YOU FLUFFY IDIOT!

Frederick thrashed around, trying to get a good look at his tail, and in the process sent the ring flying across the room, where a series of clinks indicated it landed under the feet of one of the larger bookcases.

“Well so much for that idea,” the angel said frostily, heading over to look for it.

Crowley awoke to the smell of brewing coffee, and couldn’t resist -- he made his way slowly down the stairs and out into the main area, where he stopped in surprise at the sight that greeted him. Aziraphale, down on his hands and knees, head on the floor as he squiggled and tried to get an arm under various pieces of furniture. Across the room from him, Frederick was lounging on a pile of magazines. He would swear it looked like the snake was highly amused.

“Well this is a lovely sight,” he commented drolly, and the angel sat up so fast that he knocked a few books over. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, er, hello,” Aziraphale said. “Nothing, just call it a failed experiment. I tried my sigil ring on Frederick to see if he could maybe be a ring bearer and he had a full body convulsion and sent it flying across the room. I can’t quite get to it.”

Crowley pursed his lips and tried not to laugh. The angel had dust bunnies all over his waistcoat and in his hair, and he looked absolutely adorable. “You’re an angel, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, and?”

Crowley shook his head. “And you thought it was a good idea to put your angelic sigil, which holds some of your powers, ON A SNAKE.”

“I did, yes,” the angel said, stubbornly.

The demon sighed and snapped his fingers, and a glint of gold appeared in his hand. “Also,” he said patiently, “you have powers and don’t have to actually get down there and dig around, you know.”

Oh. That was true. Aziraphale walked over and took the ring out of his hand, unable to think of any adequate response.

“You’re so lucky you have me around, love,” Crowley said, before blowing him a kiss and walking off to get a cup of coffee.

Aziraphale followed him a few minutes later, dust bunnies removed and dignity restored.

They chatted for the next half hour about essentials about the wedding, and managed to set some parameters. They both wanted a small wedding, with just friends and no real wedding party. Budget wasn’t really a concern, as various questionable investments over the last two hundred years had left Crowley with nearly unlimited funds at his disposal, and Aziraphale also had a tidy sum socked away himself. Having some portion of the event outdoors would be lovely, the both agreed. Top priorities were flowers and food. They’d go simple on the invitations, focus on mostly candid photography from a low key professional, and just make the reception a nice, enjoyable party.

“So, what are my jobs?” Aziraphale said.

“You pick the food. And the cake.” Crowley had obviously already given this some thought. “I’ll head up most everything else.”

Aziraphale looked concerned. “Are you sure? This shouldn’t be a burden on you, Crowley! I want to help.”

“Oh you’re going to help!” Crowley agreed. “But you’re just too easy to please to make some of these decisions. I mean, you’d never know if the flowers were good enough or not, would you? I’m not going to let a sub-par ranunculus mess up our special day. Everything needs to be right.”

Aziraphale stared for a moment. “You will NOT berate our wedding flowers, Crowley, I just won’t have it. I’m not standing up to marry you surrounded by terrified, sobbing plants.”

“Oh please, you exaggerate,” Crowley scoffed.

“I mean it, Crowley,” the angel warned.

“All right, all right. I will be nice to the ones I pick out, promise.”

One battle won, the angel thought.

They went out of the next view days to visit a number of sites around town, including libraries and gardens, hotels and schools. Oddly enough, each place they visited found that they did indeed have a prime Saturday in August available for rental, despite usually booking two years in advance. Aziraphale frowned at Crowley over that one and made a mental note to find out later whose bookings he cancelled and restore them, but he put up with it as likely unstoppable at this point.

Each venue was lovely in its own way, but the one that won both their hearts was the Nash conservatory at Kew Gardens. Small and intimate with huge floor to ceiling glass walls on three sides, it offered just the right amount of space for their smaller wedding party and the garden setting felt welcoming and homelike to them both.

They took a few minutes to walk around the grounds before they made a final decision.

“Remember how many dates we spent here?” Crowley said.

“They weren’t all dates,” Aziraphale said. “Most of them were before the apocalypse.”

“They were dates and you know it,” Crowley said. “All of it was dates, really.”

“So we’ve been dating, in your view, for over six thousand years?”

“At least for the last four thousand, yes.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “That’s a lovely thought. You might have told me, though.”

“You just weren’t listening hard enough,” the demon teased.

They had reached the Palm House, always one of their favorites.

“Remember the night we broke in here?” Aziraphale asked. “Had a midnight picnic?”

“Oh sure, you sound all calm about it now, but you were practically hyperventilating about the breaking and entering then,” Crowley reminded him.

Aziraphale waved a hand. “Was not. I just wanted you to feel comfortable, and you like it when I’m a little flustered. Don’t even try to say you don’t.”

Crowley grinned at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re the one marrying me,” he retorted. “Let’s go back and book it, my dear – you’re right, this is perfect!”

Crowley had it booked and paid almost before he had finished the sentence.

A few days later they chose a simple invitation at the neighborhood printer and put together the guest list – their friends from Tadfield and their families, Madam Tracy and the Witchfinder, the staff from a handful of local merchants, bakery owners, and restaurants who had become friends, and a few favorite customers. All in all, it was a small set, about forty people, just perfect for the space they were thinking of.

They pointedly did not send invites to anyone from their respective former employers.

“Do you think we need any security, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked worriedly as they walked back to the shop.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Aziraphale said carefully. “Do you think Above or Below is going to try to interfere in any way? They wouldn’t be particularly happy to hear about this, I suppose.”

Crowley frowned and thought it over. “I don’t know. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since the big capture in the park. Seems like maybe they’ve decided to wash their hands of us entirely.”

“You’re right,” Aziraphale said. “It’s been very quiet.”

“And Adam did set some changes in place to lessen interference from either side,” Crowley added. “But I can talk to Anathema about some warding for the wedding site, just in case. She ought to be able to set up spells or glyphs around the buildings and the grounds to keep any entities other than us from being able to enter the day of the wedding.”

“That’s a good idea, dear,” Aziraphale said. “Let’s do that.”

“Angel,” Crowley said slowly, “Do you have some reason to be worried?”

Aziraphale thought about that brief, odd twinge he felt outside the bookstore the prior week. Had that been anything, or had it just been his imagination? Things had certainly been perfectly calm since.

“No,” he finally said, “I haven’t. Just being cautious. You know me.”

Crowley appeared satisfied with that answer, and let it go. He did place a call to Anathema that night, though, and invited her up the following weekend to talk strategies.

The next morning Aziraphale was downstairs making a racket in the kitchen when Crowley woke up, and a quick sniff indicated that it was clearly a waffles morning. Hit with an instant fit of hunger,

Crowley quickly dressed and headed down.

Aziraphale greeted him with a smile, looking a little tired and pale, and immediately plated him an enormous waffle the size of his head. He was sure the angel had fiddled with the waffle iron, somehow, to make it larger, as no one made waffles that big. It was also, oddly enough, heart shaped.

“Isn’t it a little early for this kind of sentimental display?” he teased.

Aziraphale simply made a face at him and added syrup and powdered sugar with a heap of berries to his plate, then plopped down the foamiest, creamiest cappuccino he’d seen in weeks.

“Your breakfast,” he said with a flourish. Then he plated one of similar size for himself and sat down across from him.

Crowley smiled his thanks and took a large sip of his coffee, before leaning back contentedly.

“Now this is the way to live,” he sighed, contemplating whether to start with waffle, berries, or both. “You look tired, by the way. Everything okay?”

“I didn’t sleep very well,” the angel said. “I had a – what are they called? Ill dream? Night torment? Never had one before.”

“Nightmare, angel. You had a nightmare?” Crowley looked at him reproachfully. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you were asleep and it was just a silly dream,” the angel said, ever reasonable. “I don’t even remember the details, honestly. Just woke up in a panic with my heart racing. I was able to calm myself down.”

Crowley stabbed his fork into his gigantic waffle and left it there, twanging vertically. He leaned forward with both elbows on the table and fixed the angel with his most serious of serious looks.

“Listen to me, angel,” he said quietly. “You are my fiancé and soon to be husband and if you have a nightmare I don’t want to hear this utter bullshit about letting me sleep. You. Will. Wake. Me. Up. Do you understand me?”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary –”

“I really don’t think you get a say in this one,” Crowley snapped. “The entire point of this is that I get to be here for you when you need me. You’d want me to do the same, wouldn’t you?”

Aziraphale stared at him, transfixed, while a rush of heated love and mild shame roiled through him. He was right. He was entirely right.

“Yes, I would,” he finally admitted. “I will if it happens again. I promise.”

Satisfied, the demon pried his fork loose and returned to cramming food into his mouth as if the world was coming to an end.

“So,” the angel said after a bit of a pause, eager to get back to more pleasant subjects. “We’ve got the venue and the invitations done. What’s on the wedding agenda for today?”

“Oh, you’ll like today!” Crowley said with a grin. “It’s cake tastings today.”

As expected, the angel’s face lit up like a kid at a birthday party. “You get to go taste cakes?” he asked, almost afraid to believe it. “Like, people give you actual slices of cake just because you’re planning a wedding?”

Crowley laughed. “Yes, angel, they give you cake. As many flavors as you like. As many bakeries as you like. In fact, if you like, you can go taste cakes every day for the next month, as long as you pick different places each time. No one’s going to turn away a well-to-do patron who’s wedding shopping.”

Aziraphale cut his waffle in half and pushed one portion of it aside. “I’d better save some room, then,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “This sounds like the perfect day!”

Crowley sat back and watched as Aziraphale had the time of his life that morning. He was clearly in his element, charming each and every one of the bakers they met with his intense love for fine baked goods and interest in the ingredients. Crowley had made appointments at the four top-rated cake shops in greater London and sped them to each in the Bentley. It was a sign of how much the angel was enjoying himself that he didn’t even comment on their record-breaking speeds.

The angel insisted on trying a little bit of everything. Sponge cake to fruit cake, buttercream and fondants, ganache and fruit gelees, profiteroles and cupcakes, and the ever famous croque en bouche, its tiny cream puffs piled high under hard swoops of caramelized sugar.

The only place the angel drew a hard line was at the idea of the currently trendy ‘naked cake.’

“Cake without frosting?” he gasped. “What on earth is the point of that?”

The proprietor insisted on bringing one out to show them. Aziraphale was polite and tried it, making encouraging comments about the tastiness and moistness of the cake, but as soon as they left the building he was full of criticism.

“Cross that one off the list, Crowley,” he said acerbically. “I can’t trust the judgment of someone who thinks cake laid bare of frosting is a good thing.”

Crowley smiled. “Whatever you say, angel. Just do me a favor and don’t make it cupcakes, either.”

“No cupcakes?”

“Cupcakes are for children.”

“I agree, actually,” Aziraphale said. “You can have cupcakes anytime. You only get to have your own wedding cake once.”

They reached the car and Crowley held the passenger door open for him. “Off to patisserie number four,” he announced grandly, closing the door with a flourish.

They were walking down the block to the final cake tasting when Aziraphale stumbled and caught onto Crowley’s arm for support.

“Are you all right?” Crowley asked, peering at him.

“Yes, I think so – I just felt a little dizzy for a moment,” the angel replied. He stopped and took a few deep breaths.

“Do you need water?” Crowley asked. “Want to sit down somewhere?”

The angel let go of his arm and straightened up with a determined smile. “I’m fine, really! It’s just been an exciting day and I got a little overheated in this big coat. Let’s keep walking.”

Crowley frowned and undid a few buttons of the angel’s overcoat, then unwrapped a layer of the lightweight scarf he was wearing so the angel could get some air.

“Better?” he asked, concerned.

“Fit as a fiddle,” Aziraphale assured him, moving on.

“Welcome, welcome!” said the proprietor at the final shop. “You are Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell, I presume?” She handed them each a glass of champagne and ushered them back to the finely appointed tasting room.

“Please tell me a little about what you had in mind for your wedding cake,” the woman said, pulling out a little notepad.

Aziraphale filled her in on the basics – the venue, the number of guests, and what they had liked or not liked so far.

“And you, sir?” she said, turning to Crowley.

Crowley leaned in and smiled. “Just make him happy,” he said. “This man LOVES cake, and I want him to have the best wedding cake he’s ever seen for our big day. Oh, and no cupcakes. And nothing cutesy. Flowers would be nice, possibly.”

Aziraphale laughed a little as his ‘I have no opinions on cake’ fiancé turned out to have rather a lot of opinions after all.

They tried three or four spectacular cake samples there and were just settling in to try a second portion of their current favorite – a chocolate sponge with pomegranate filling and a rich, decadent buttercream, when it happened.

“I think we might have a winner,” Crowley said, turning to Aziraphale with an eyebrow raised.

Aziraphale paused with a forkful halfway to his mouth, and then laid the fork down with a clunk.

“Oh,” he said, placing his hand on the table as if supporting himself. “I don’t feel so well.”

Crowley and the baker looked at him, concerned. “What is it angel?”

“I’m dizzy,” he said, whitening alarmingly. “The whole room is –”

He broke off and made a strange noise deep in his throat.

Crowley grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to get the angel to focus on him. “Angel, what’s happening? Breathe with me,” he said. “Get him some water,” he shouted to the baker, who rushed off to the kitchen.

Aziraphale raised frantic-looking eyes towards the demon and wobbled in his seat. “Oh no,” he said in a panicked tone. “I think – my dear I think I’m –”

Crowley blinked as the angel appeared to become slightly transparent around the edges for a moment. It almost looked like he flickered.

OH FUCK, he thought, as he realized slightly too slowly what was happening just as the angel managed to get the words out –

“—being summoned!”

“SHIT!” The demon frantically looked around for salt but it was already too late.

There was a flare of light and when his sight cleared, the angel was gone.

#good omens fics #ineffable husbands #Aziraphale x crowley #Frederick the snake #snek fiction #Aziraphale being a dork #cake tastings #wedding planning #cliffhanger

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 7 years

Text

James & Josie - Chapter 2

August 2018

Three months had passed since their chance meeting. Emmy and Niall had grown closer in that time. Currently, she was in a heated texting war with the man.

Sighing loudly, she let a string of curses fly through her brain before hitting the screen of her phone a little too hard. “They say stress is bad for you; but I think you’re takin’ it to a whole ‘nother level.” Grace stared at her younger sister with a smirk. “What’s Niall done now?”

Taking her eyes off the phone for a brief second, Emmy sighed. “He conveniently forgot he has a wedding tomorrow and since he mailed the RSVP back with a plus one, he needs someone to accompany him.”

“Why the hesitancy? You go, eat some good food, have a couple of drinks, and dance the night away. What do you have to lose?” Grace failed to see the problem Emmy was having. “Unless, things have changed between you two. Emmaline, do you have feelings for Niall?”

The horror that crossed Emmy’s face would’ve been hilarious, if Grace didn’t know her sister so well. “NO! Nothing has changed and I don’t like him. Some of his family will be there as well as his friends. I mean, it’s going to be weird, wouldn’t it?”

“Not everyone looks at every situation the 1,000 different ways you do, Em. You two are friends and you’re helping him out. No harm, no foul.” Grace smiled. “Besides, if there happened to be some hooking up after the wedding …” She trailed off with a grin.

Emmy threw her a dirty look, returning her attention to the phone, silence enveloping them. “So do you have a dress to wear?”

She bit her lip; she couldn’t believe she was actually going along with this. “I have a couple that might work but I just texted him to see what the colors are so I don’t clash.”

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Grace bit her lip, nervously looking at her sister.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Emmy’s eyes flew up. She didn’t know what to say, so she went for basics. “Why?”

“The way you’ve bounced back these last few months. You haven’t let anything stand in the way of what you’ve wanted. You found an awesome flat, in the middle of the city; you’re more successful at work and you’ve got a new best friend in Niall. Not to mention, how over the moon you are. This is a good look on you.”

A smile tugged on her lips. “Well you, Austin, and Niall had a lot to do with it. I’m not sure where I’d be without you three. And also, it’s been good to move on from what’s his name and all the damn drama.”

Her phone dinged, signaling a text from Niall. ‘Glad you’ve come to the dark side, Ems. Color of the wedding are black and mint - so don’t wear those. Pick you up at noon.’

“Wanna go dress shopping?” Emmy ignored the smug look of her sister before heading down the street to a speciality boutique.

Next Day 12:00pm

She heard the door slam as she straightened out her dress. The navy blue one shoulder dress had been the third dress she tried on and it was the one that was voted the best one by Grace. A knock on her door caused her to look up. “Yes?”

“You almost ready, Ems? We’ve got to be going.” Niall’s gruff voice flowed through the door as she took one more glance at the door before walking to the door.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door before coming face to face with Niall. He smirked, letting his eyes trail down her body before meeting her eyes. “Damn Ems, you know how to clean up.”

“Thanks idiot.” She grabbed her purse before walking towards the door. “Ready?”

They walked towards Niall’s car; her feeling confident in her dress and feeling his eyes on her ass. He opened the door for her before giving her a kiss on the check. “You really do look beautiful, Ems. This is a good look on you.”

Thankfully, her blush waited until the door was shut and he was jogging over to the driver’s side. “Thanks Niall. You look quite spiffy as well. A suit suits you.”

Rolling his eyes, he gunned the engine before heading towards the wedding site. “So how do you know the couple getting married?”

“A friend of a friend. I did some digging and we’re at a table with a bunch of friends and my cousin.” He smirked. “You’re going to love them.”

Raising an eyebrow, Emmy grinned. “Are they your clones or something?”

“Football and beer are simple things that make a man happy.” Niall chuckled. “I grew up with all of them so we’re more like brothers than friends.”

She wrung her hands in nervousness before looking out the window. In the three months since he’s know her, that was one of her favorite ticks. “Nervous?”

“Why would you ask that?”

Nodding to her hands, Niall shook his head. “You have no reason to be nervous. They’re going to love you.”

She wasn’t convenience and continued to wring her hands as London flew by them. “Hey, if they don’t love you, drinks on me next time we go out.”

Emmy peaked up at the thought. “Throw in midnight pizza, and you have a deal.”

“Done!” He laughed her, watching her relax against the seat as he pulled into the Westminister. Finding a place to park, he threw the car into park before looking over at her. “This is a big hoopla; Samantha is the bride and she’s marrying one of my best friends, Patrick. They’ve been my surrogate parents while my family is back in Ireland.”

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she gathered everything, pausing to look at the man beside her. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Nope. Just wish you’d realize how fantastic you are and how you’re going to knock everyone’s socks off today. You’re going to be fine, Ems.” He smirked, pushing open his door, jogging over to hers, offering her his hand. “Let’s do this Bennett!”

With a gusto of confidence, she held his hand while he strolled up the stairs of the church. His grin was infectious, looking behind him to make sure he hadn’t lost her along the way. Seeing his friends standing in the back of the church, he tugged her gently to his side. “There’s the last man of the group. Nice of you to show up, Nialler.” The teasing was gentle among the friends. “And you brought a pretty girl with you.”

“Lads, this is Emmy. Em, these loveable idiots are my friends: Deo, Adam, James, Conor, and Matt.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, love. This one hasn’t shut up about you.” Deo nudged Niall before picking her hand up and giving it a kiss. “It’s nice to put a face with a name. Though, when you’re ready for a real man, let me know.”

Her eyes went wide, a giggle escaped her mouth and a wink was thrown his way. “I think I’m alright but I’ll keep you in mind.”

Niall looked between his cousin and Emmy. “And that’s enough outta you two. Geeze, I told you lot to be on your best behavior, yet it seems it went in one ear and out the other.”

The group laughed, Emmy relaxing in the laughter. Niall nudged her forward, guiding her down the aisle, following his friends down a row. Emmy’s eyes roamed the church, taking it all in. “Gorgeous, yeah?”

“A bit over the top for me. The next wedding I’m in, it’s going to be a low key affair.” She shrugged. “I hated everything that was picked for the ceremony and reception. I’m much more simple. That affair was a complete and utter shitshow.”

Matt poked his head between the couple with a grin. “Hey! We’re in a place of worship. How about we keep the cussing to a minimum or you’ll end up in hell.”

“Since you just used a cuss word, you’ll be joining us in the lovely place. Hope you love the heat.” Emmy smirked. “Glad you’re going to be going with us.”

His comeback was cut short with the organ playing “Pachelbel Canon” signaling the bridal party’s descent down the aisle. The adorable flower girl and ring bearer hammed it up as they walked down the aisle, waving to their friends and family along the way. The music became quieter, announcing the bride’s arrival. Niall’s hand found Emmy’s giving it a squeeze, watching his friend walk towards the love of her life, his oldest friend. Emmy smiled, caught up in the romance of the church and the happiness of the event about to take place.

Forty-five minutes after they took their seats, they stood once more and vacated the church, joining the line to congratulate the newly married couple. Niall once again grabbed her hand and lead her to the line. “So what did you think?”

“Gorgeous and from what I can tell, perfect for them.” Emmy stumbled slightly as the line moved forward. “Sam has always had her wedding planned. She used to drone on about her wedding and how she wanted everything to be.” Looking around the church Niall smiled and nodded. “And I’d say this is exactly how she envisioned it.”

“Aww I’m so happy to hear that.” A new voice exclaimed happily. “Thanks for coming, Nialler.”

He hugged the blonde tightly. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Sammy. By the way, Sam this is Emmy; Emmy, Sam.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. He hasn’t stopped talking about you for the last three months. I look forward to getting to know you more.” Sam hugged her, dropping her voice to a whisper. “You’ve been really good for him.”

Emmy smiled. “He’s been really good for me.” She pulled back. “I look forward to getting to know you as well.”

Niall was talking to Patrick, when she caught up to him. Introductions were made and Patrick grinned while Niall told him of Emmy’s comeback with Matt. The words ‘she’ll fit in just fine’ were thrown around provoking a giant grin to appear on Emmy’s face. Promises to catch up were made as Niall led her back to his vehicle. “It’s official, my friends love you already.”

“They just met me.” She whispered, wide-eyed looking at Niall.

He chuckled. “I’ve talked you up and they saw how happy you’ve made me these last few months.”

“They do know we’re not dating right?” The words that were thrown around among his friends caused her to question their understanding of their status.

Niall hesitated, slowly exhaling and eyes focused on the road ahead. “They do, but I might have let something slip.”

“And what’s that?” She looked out the window, watching the city flew by. Silence had hushed over the car, Emmy glanced over at Niall to see him biting his lip. “Niall, it’s me. Just talk to me.”

“I didn’t expect it to be this hard.” He muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Emmaline.”

Turning in her seat, she locked eyes with him. “Just talk to me, James. The one that you found in the park with makeup and mascara smudged from crying so hard.” Hearing his middle name, caused him to grin. Pulling into the reception hall’s parking lot, he threw the car into park before shifting in his seat. He took her hand in hers.

“Three months ago, you breezed into my life unexpectedly. And in the course of those three months, you’ve become one of my best friends but I’ve started to feel something more. I know you’re still healing from the previous guy … but I’ve been wanting to tell you and my wingmen have decided to help.” He chuckled. “But I’m not pressuring you. I know what it’s like to go through a rough breakup.”

A smile tugged on her lips at his words. Leaning forward, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I could tell something was off but didn’t have any idea it was this. I’ve developed feelings for you along the way as well, Niall. And I may not be ready; yet I’m glad you’ve confessed what you’re thinking to me.”

At her words, he leaned forward and kissed her, trying to hold back from his desires of getting to know every nook and cranny of her lips. He pulled back, ignoring the angry look on her face. “As much as I’d love to sit in the car and make-out like teenagers, we have a wedding reception to attend.”

She pouted, looking into his blue eyes. “No one will miss us.”

“Oh how wrong you are. Come on.” Pushing open the car door, he opened hers, holding out his hand. He led the way to the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park Hotel. Emmy’s eyes widened at the gorgeous building and the entry way that laid out in front of them. Niall nudged her, a grin on his face at her astonishment of the venue. “Don’t drool.”

“It’s gorgeous. Shut up, Horan.” She pushed him rolling her eyes.

Stopping at a table, they grabbed their name cards before finding the table they would be seated at. A small vase with pink peonies were in the middle of the table with polished silverware gleaming around the table. Pulling out a chair, Niall nudged her to sit down, taking the seat on her right.

They took in the massive room as other mingled in and found their own seats. Soon, their table was full and the laughter was abundant. Emmy spoke quietly to Deo, learning more details about Niall, which displeased him due to the dirt that was being spilled.

Soon, the bridal party was seated, food served, and a hush settled among the guests. The food was delicious and the conversation kicked up at Table 15. Before long, plates were being cleared and the guests were ready to mingle and dance the night away.

“I’ll be right back.” Niall scooted his chair back, a kiss to her cheek, before disappearing around the corridor of the room.

Deo pulled her into a story of Niall from their childhood. The more he got into it, the more she saved it for a rainy day. She laughed just as the DJ mentioned it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance.

She glanced towards the stage, looking back at Deo before looking at the stage. “What is going on? Why is Niall on stage?”

A look was traded between the group at the table. “Emmy, how much did Niall tell you about what he does for a living?”

“We don’t talk much about work, to be honest. We talk more about his likes/dislikes, favorites, and sports, lots and lots of sports.” Emmy took note on how comfortable he looked on stage. “Is there something I should know?”

Deo smirked, shaking his head at Niall’s stupidity. “Have you ever heard of One Direction?”

“Sure … but what does Niall have to do with them?” A familiar melody played and Emmy’s eyes went wide at the realization. “Niall’s a part of One Direction?”

Deo chuckled, nodding slowly. “He is. The band is on a hiatus at the moment and he’s been doing some solo stuff but yes he’s been a part of that since 2010.”

She was quiet, letting that new piece of knowledge setting, listening to him sing “This I Promise You” by NSYNC.

And I will take you in my arms And hold you right where you belong Til’ the day my life is through This I promise you This I promise you

She had to admit, he had a smooth crooner of a voice. She would hear him sing while they hung out, but never realized he was a professional singer. Emmy felt dumb, not realizing such a vital piece of information of her best friend.

“Deo, why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Niall’s cousin smiled. “Niall doesn’t have many people that love him for him. Outside of family and friends that have known him for a while, the people he meets all want something. With you, you just wanted his friendship and nothing more. I kept telling him he was going to have to tell you but he hesitated for some reason.”

I’ve loved you forever In lifetimes before And I promise you never Will you hurt anymore I give you my word I give you my heart This is a battle we’ve won And with this vow Forever has now begun

“I’ve heard him singing but never realized it.” She shook her head. “I feel dumb.”

Deo smirked. “Don’t let this change anything, Emmy. Promise me, you’ll give him hell about not telling you and move on. He has his own reason for not telling you and you can’t fault him for wanting to hold on to you not knowing who he was.”

“I promise. Thank you Deo for telling me.” She smirked looking towards the stage. “On a scale from 1 to 10, how much does he hate dancing?”

At that moment, Deo realized Emmy was perfect for his cousin. “9.5; he hates slow dancing especially.”

“Perfect. I’m going to head up there and snag him as he gets off stage.” She winked. “Thanks for the chat Deo. I greatly appreciate it.”

The song came to a finish and Emmy excused herself from the table. Walking towards the stage, she spotted Niall finishing up a conversation before moving off the stage. She met him at the bottom of the little staircase with a smirk.

“You promised me a dance.” She raised her eyebrows, her grin growing at his fearful face. “I fully intend on cashing in that. Let’s go Horan.”

Taking his offered hand, she let him pull her close, swaying slowly with the music. “So you are now adding secret spy to your resume?”

“What do you mean?” Niall looked down at her with a smile, letting the music sweep them away. “I am not coordinated enough for a spy.”

She giggled, gripping his arm tighter as he dipped her quickly. “You didn’t mention you were a professional singer in a band. And yet I’m trying to figure out what else you haven’t told me. That’s something pretty big to keep hidden, Niall.”

“I’m sorry but you have been going through your own personal stuff and I know it was really selfish for me to keep it from you but you’re on of the first people in many years that didn’t know who I was. And to be honest, I absolutely loved that you didn’t know.” He sighed. “Deo kept telling me to tell you but I didn’t want to ruin the magic and the easygoingness of our relationship.”

Taking in all that he was saying, she understood. If she was a celebrity herself, she would crave for something to not know every little thing she’d ever done and revel in the normacy. “I get it; I just wish you were upfront about it. But I have one question: were you afraid I was going to take advantage of you?”

He looked away for a second. “I’m not going to lie, yes it crossed my mind but it was gone as soon as it appeared.”

“Then you’re forgiven.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Don’t keep something this big from me again.”

Niall’s eyes widened. “Ok! I can do that. Besides, the lads want to meet you.”

It was her eyes that widened at that statement. “You mean they know about me?”

“Of course they know about you.” He threw his head back and laughed, loudly. “I see them every couple of weeks or so and there’s a thing called texting. Liam, particular, loved how we met.”

Emmy followed him off the dance floor, giving him a glance. “Why do I feel like my life just became a heck of a lot more interesting since you came around Horan?”

“You have no idea, Bennett. No idea.”

Come chat with me about the chapter. What did you love? Hate? Give me your thoughts! I have much more planned for these two!

#Chapter 2 #Dancerlittle #1DFF #James & Josie

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