"Well. I talked Gabriel into not reporting on you before you aired your dirty laundry in public and then went around snogging like a couple of lovestruck teenagers," John said bemusedly. "So I dunno how much good it is anymore, but make whatever use of it you can." Actually, Gabriel hadn't just given his word not to tell: his exact words had been if anything happens to either of them, it will not be because of me, which was a considerably broader statement. It occurred to John that that had been a very foolish thing for Gabriel to promise, considering what he now knew. He filed that away for future consideration.
He also had the feeling Crowley was missing his larger point, or else that the demon thought he was quite simply out of his mind, but that was all right; it was admittedly one of his more cracked theories. Still, the scenario raised more questions than answers: if Tali had committed such a terrible crime, why hadn't he Fallen? If he was still in a state of grace, why was he killed? If killing him had been counter to the will of the Almighty, why weren't his executioners punished? The only conclusion John could draw was that God was letting the angelic hierarchy look after itself, and had his own agenda which didn't mesh with the Rules as they were generally understood, and which he hadn't bothered to explain even to his most trusted servants.
Which, it occurred to him (even as he winced slightly at such a stupidly sentimental idea coming out of his own brain,) might mean Crowley wasn't quite as abandoned as he thought he was. Aziraphale hadn't Fallen either, after all. It also opened up the possibility that John's own situation wasn't quite as hopeless as he was inclined to believe.
He wasn't about to bring any of that up in so many words, though; even if it were true, he wasn't at all certain he trusted the old bastard not to screw them all over for His own amusement in the end.
He smiled half-heartedly at Crowley's attempt at humor. It did get a little annoying sometimes, being reminded every time he talked to the bloke that his own days were numbered. But Crowley looked tired and battered and was probably feeling less assured of his own immortality than usual right now, so he could let it pass. "True enough. I s'pose I should be grateful every morning I don't wake up dead. Anyway, I was just on my way out to town, Chas is probably waiting on me...I'll see you later, yeah?"
He started to turn away, then paused, grinning suddenly. "Oh. And take my advice...spend some time with your angel before the swelling goes down. Nothing cries out for sympathy like a split lip." Snickering at the expression on Crowley's face, he beat a hasty retreat around the corner and down the stairs.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2005-12-16 09:43 pm (UTC)He also had the feeling Crowley was missing his larger point, or else that the demon thought he was quite simply out of his mind, but that was all right; it was admittedly one of his more cracked theories. Still, the scenario raised more questions than answers: if Tali had committed such a terrible crime, why hadn't he Fallen? If he was still in a state of grace, why was he killed? If killing him had been counter to the will of the Almighty, why weren't his executioners punished? The only conclusion John could draw was that God was letting the angelic hierarchy look after itself, and had his own agenda which didn't mesh with the Rules as they were generally understood, and which he hadn't bothered to explain even to his most trusted servants.
Which, it occurred to him (even as he winced slightly at such a stupidly sentimental idea coming out of his own brain,) might mean Crowley wasn't quite as abandoned as he thought he was. Aziraphale hadn't Fallen either, after all. It also opened up the possibility that John's own situation wasn't quite as hopeless as he was inclined to believe.
He wasn't about to bring any of that up in so many words, though; even if it were true, he wasn't at all certain he trusted the old bastard not to screw them all over for His own amusement in the end.
He smiled half-heartedly at Crowley's attempt at humor. It did get a little annoying sometimes, being reminded every time he talked to the bloke that his own days were numbered. But Crowley looked tired and battered and was probably feeling less assured of his own immortality than usual right now, so he could let it pass. "True enough. I s'pose I should be grateful every morning I don't wake up dead. Anyway, I was just on my way out to town, Chas is probably waiting on me...I'll see you later, yeah?"
He started to turn away, then paused, grinning suddenly. "Oh. And take my advice...spend some time with your angel before the swelling goes down. Nothing cries out for sympathy like a split lip." Snickering at the expression on Crowley's face, he beat a hasty retreat around the corner and down the stairs.