“Crowley,” Aziraphale said one day in the cottage, “I do think that you weren’t completely correct.”

“About?” Crowley was used to Aziraphale calling him out for being wrong, whether he was wrong or not. He was unaffected by the claim.

“Being Godfathers. I don’t think really really made it that closely with Warlock, as wonderful as it was to be with him through his first years.” Continue reading “Godfathers”

Zombie Apocalypse (pt21)

“What?” Heherson looked surprised. “Of course not! I got a little distracted, you know? During the research stages. Never even pulled anything together. Never got back to it. When I noticed everything this morning, I thought it was you.”

That was surprising. “Thought it was me?”

“Yeah! Who else could it be, if not me? I mean, hiding the fact you knew anything about necromancy was a nice touch. Everyone would vouch for it.”

“Like everyone would vouch for the fact you’ve never done it in your life either,” Tim pointed out.

“Yeah, but at least I know the difference between a mass apparition raising and a mass body raising.”

The two stared at each other. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t Heherson. Tim didn’t see a reason for him to lie about it, not like this. Not that he’d ever been great at lying
Heherson shook his head with a light shrug. “I’m just saying-”

At that moment, a large crash interrupted them. Tim flinched and backed away as Heherson’s front door swung open, smashing into the wall. Irish stood there, baseball bat in hand and staring wildly about. “Tim! Are you all right?”

Zombie Apocalypse (pt18)

Tim followed him in, if just to make sure that the other man wouldn’t look out at the car the moment Irish moved in it and made him realize that she had indeed showed up. At least, not until Tim had prepared him for it. “You ran your last car off a bridge.”

“That wasn’t my fault!”

“And the one before that ended up a tree somehow. I’m more surprised that you still have a license. And a new car.”

Heherson was studying him now, something Tim wasn’t sure what to make of. Heherson never looked all that intently at anything, he was usually too all over the place. Except for Irish, of course.

“Did she break up with me for you?”

He didn’t sound angry, simply curious and a bit sad. Nevertheless, Tim was a bit annoyed. “Uh, no? She broke up with you because no matter how much you have in common, Irish can’t stand a messy house and you seem unable to stand an immaculate one. Which I think she told you when she broke up with you.”

Heherson frowned. “But you both have been friends forever.”

“And that means what?”

“You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

Zombie Apocalypse (pt10)

It was no secret that Heherson was still completely heads over heels for Irish. The breakup hadn’t been his decision, solely Irish’s. “He would totally listen to you.”

“No. He would totally look at me with big puppy eyes.” Irish frowned, looking rather uncomfortable. “If I went to talk to him now you know he’d get the wrong idea. I don’t want to deal with that.”

That a mass influx of dead people might hit the streets seemed a bit more important to Tim. However, he couldn’t ignore the idea. “He’d probably think you’re impressed. Considering your first reaction was that it’s bad timing but a big deal, he wouldn’t be wrong.”

Irish glowered. “Hey. I don’t think there should be a mass raising of the dead ever. That’s just insensitive.”

Tim rose an eyebrow. “‘That’s impressive’.”

She rolled her eyes. “It is impressive. That doesn’t mean anything.”

Zombie Apocalypse (pt4)

It took him ten minutes to walk to her house and that was ten minutes too long for Tim. At least, while it was night. He wasn’t all that fond of night when he was alone and even less so when the dead were involved in it. Once at the door, he rang the doorbell once, then twice, hoping that it would open soon. Because it was Irish, it did.

Her hair was up, leaving her face exposed so there could be no denial about how not happy she was to see him. “Tim, you have to know what time it is.”

“Aren’t those the same pajamas you had a year ago?” Tim asked, looking over the frumpy pale green bottoms and long sleeved top.

Irish scowled at him, absently pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was asleep. Like any normal person would be. Like you would be.”

“I’d like to be asleep too,” Tim agreed.

Scoffing, she waved him in and the close proximity her hands came to his body were what really ushered him further in, keeping from being accidentally touched. “You know I have an important meeting tomorrow. It’s all we talked about last time we talked!”

“Because that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“Well it’s very important!”

The Keeper (pt7)

“I brought you something!”

The Keeper looked at me with hunger, something I never used to see on their face, but now hardly saw them without. I moved over to the large table in the middle of the chamber. The surface was strewn with the tomes of this hidden place, of the tools of their and their father’s trade, shut away here out of sight. Much like the Keeper.

There was some empty space, plenty of it, across the long end which faced the only way in and out to the library. I set my bag down there, pulling out the pocket pets.

The Keeper’s eyes went round. “You know you’re not supposed to bring electronics in here.” Their voice remained rife with desire.

I shot them a smile. “It’s old. It doesn’t have all of those hook ups. The only things it connects to,” I pulled a couple others out of my bag, putting all but one on the table, “are others which press up against these sensors here.” I tapped at the top of the small device. “Your dad gave me the go ahead, I asked to make sure. These ones are yours.”

They leaped upon the devices, examining them with relish. I sat down, keeping explanations to myself. After all, the longer it took them to figure it out, the more they had to do.


Clang. Clang. Clang.

“Will you cut that out?” she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “We wouldn’t be in a jail cell and cuffed to the wall if you hadn’t insisted on your stupid plan.”

“We’d also be very bored.”

He couldn’t argue with that, but he didn’t know that being arrested like this was better than that. Disregarding her irritation, he went back to picking his lock.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

She shut her eyes, throwing her head back. It hit against the wall, a lovely wood finish. Maybe if she hit it harder she would pass out and not need to listen to that.

Then his cuffs opened and he dropped down to the ground. “Now. Do you want me to get you out too, or is this too much fun for you?”

“You wanted to get in here,” she reminded him.

He smirked and reached up to release her.

Next comes the paparazzi

I didn’t believe in ghost stories until a week after my best friend’s death. Showing up at my door, wanting to talk, changed my mind about quite a few things.

“You’re a ghost,” I told her, the second time she tried to steal a sip from my teacup.

She bit her lower lip. “Oh, I hate this. I’m so thirsty.”

It made me a bit sick. “You drowned, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Yet I’m so damn thirsty. This sucks.” She pushed her hair out of her face, as though the long black strands actually hung there. I wondered if I could poke her, but she was a ghost, so I was fairly certain that would be a no.

“…how are you here?” Wow, my question sounded stupid.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. First I thought I’d made it, you know? Then everyone was freaking out and I wasn’t hit by a car, though it couldn’t go through me…” She waved my teacup around.

“Hey, hey, hey! Just because you can grab inanimate objects doesn’t mean the tea won’t spill!”

“Right.” She put it down. “Sorry.”

I nearly grabbed it to take a sip of my own when the thought came to me. “Wait. People saw you and you stopped a car?”

She nodded.

“Did people see you come here?”

Apparently they had, because when we looked through the blinds, there were a lot of people out there.

It’s like telling everyone your real name

She sniffed. “Question?”

“Answer,” he replied, closing the back gate.

Pointing at his car, she eventually got his attention. “Your secret number is 024, isn’t it?”

“Do you have to say it out loud?” He wasn’t particularly bothered.

“Why is it your license plate?”

They both stared at it. “Company car.”

She scoffed. “Less sense. Why would they out you?”

“Hey. Your car has the numbers 007 on it. You’re not James Bond.”

“I’m also not a spy at all,” she reminded him.

But their time was up, so they got in the car and moved on.


“I always eat my vegetables first.”

Her friend looked at her with a disgusted face. “Ew, why would you do that?”

“Because it leaves so much room for improvement.” The girl opened her lunch box and took out her carrots. “Anything I eat next is the best. Even if my mother didn’t use the best jelly after. Apricot is okay after carrots.”

“I don’t think apricot and carrots work together at all.”

Her friend could say whatever she wanted, but the seven year old knew she was right. She ate her carrots.