A Traffic Jam of One's Own Making
Continuing backposting the fluff ficlets I wrote based on @greenfiredragonfly’s Angstember prompts! Enjoy a dip into the time-honored tradition of Crowley Crowleying himself.
A Traffic Jam of One's Own Making, rated G, 400 words
“I’m sorry,” Crowley said wretchedly. He stared out at the lanes of stalled traffic, stretching ahead of the Bentley as far as the eye could see. “Think we’re gonna be here awhile.”
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale followed Crowley’s gaze. “I should have brought a book.”
A moment of silence, as the line of traffic scooted approximately three inches forward and then stopped again.
“I should’ve taken us a different route. Sorry,” Crowley said again.
“You had no way of knowing it would be like this.” Aziraphale patted his hand on the steering wheel. “Don’t apologize. It’s not as if the traffic jam is your fault.”
Crowley discreetly avoided commenting.
Not discreetly enough, though. Aziraphale’s hand lifted off Crowley’s, eyes, voice, and aura turning suddenly suspicious. “Dear boy.”
“Yeah?” Crowley said warily.
A short distance behind them, a car honked uselessly. The car directly ahead of the Bentley honked back.
Unfortunately, the noise failed to distract Aziraphale. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”
“Ngk,” said Crowley. He fumbled for a sufficiently distracting, non-incriminating answer. “Sure. Yeah. Lots of things. Didn’t tell you yet about those symphony tickets I bought yesterday, for instance…”
“Symphony tickets?” Now the angel sounded interested.
Temptation accomplished! “Yep,” Crowley said, a little too enthusiastically. “Front row seats, two weeks from Friday. They’re playing Tchaikovksy, the conductor is—”
“That sounds lovely,” Aziraphale interrupted pleasantly. “I’d love to hear more about it later. I’m looking forward. Now, you were saying, about the traffic?”
Bless. Well, it had been worth a shot.
Crowley sighed. “Got bored this morning, that’s all. Seemed like fun. Passed the time, anyway.”
“Forgot we’d be coming this way later. [1]”
“...Should I say sorry again?”
This time around, Crowley noticed, Aziraphale very noticeably didn’t instruct him not to apologize.
And yet, the angel’s irritated shake of the head a second later looked like it was more for show than anything else. And there was something closely resembling a glint of interest in Aziraphale’s eye when he sighed loudly and said, “Fine, then, tell me how you did it. Since there’s nothing else to do. And then you can tell me about that symphony.” A beat. “We do have plenty of time, after all. Might as well make use of it.”
Crowley grinned. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible, after all, having an excuse to spend some extra time with Aziraphale.
[1] Actually, he hadn’t forgotten. In fact, it was exactly because Crowley had known they’d be coming this way that the road had been the first one to come to mind. He just hadn’t thought through the consequences.
(See more of my Fluffy Angstember fics here!)
