Author: Fyre Rating: PG Fandom, Pairing: Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley Disclaimer: I own no Aziraphale or Crowley and this is for no money. Notes: This was originally going to be a short story, and I might twist it into one later. Juuust so you know. Mrs. Parker peered out of her window. It was early morning and time to see what the neighbors were up to. When she had moved to this part of London three years ago, she had been shocked to find that no one kept a running tally on who was over at who�s house, who served what for dinner and how many fights each couple had a week. Purely shocked. Without bothering to ask any of the other local ladies, all who seemed much too prissy for Mrs. Parker�s tastes, she took on this position. When Mrs. Parker looked out her window, it wasn�t obvious. She�d seem some people being quite obvious whenever they wanted a glimpse of something, but Mrs. Parker prided herself on being subtle and almost not there to anyone who peered into her window. She always appeared to be doing something�in this instance, mending some clothes while taking in some fresh air. In a flat exactly across the street from Mrs. Parker�s lived Ms. Burns and Mr. Tattle. They were not married, which scandalized Mrs. Parker every time she thought of it. What was the world coming to, when two people could shack up so obviously and not get in trouble? Mrs. Parker worried about the affairs of the world since, obviously, no one else did. She and Mr. Parker, may he rest in peace and God bless his soul, had never even kissed before their wedding day and that was the way it was supposed to be. Mrs. Parker squinted toward the window of Ms. Burns and Mr. Tattle. She had to keep tabs on them, which was for certain. If she didn�t know what to be shocked at, how could she be shocked? Today, though, it seemed Mr. Tattle was out at work and Ms. Burns was simply tidying up. Right now, for example, she was vacuuming the front hall, which Mrs. Parker had a nice view of. Mrs. Parker casually observed Ms. Burns wasn�t even wearing an apron�she was barely dressed at all, in fact. Mrs. Parker wondered at that, surprised and disappointed to get more proof of the slowly disintegrating standards and morals in today�s young people. The skirt Ms. Burns was wearing was much too short. Mrs. Parker didn�t even need to think about it to figure out it was at least two inches above the knee. These girls, flashing their bodies and hiding their minds. It wasn�t tasteful. Ms. Burns turned off the vacuum cleaner and glanced out the window. Hurriedly, Mrs. Parker became absorbed in her sewing, although she risked a quick peek up at Ms. Burns. The young woman was still looking out the window, right at Mrs. Parker! Raising her head, Mrs. Parker smiled dazzlingly at her and set down her needle to give a short wave. Ms. Burns also lifted her hand, although for an entirely different reason. Mrs. Parker�s hand shot to her mouth in utter disbelief when Ms. Burns, who Mrs. Parker had generally seen before as a nice young lady even if she was engaged in premarital activities, flipped Mrs. Parker the birdie! It was unbelievable and she didn�t quite know how to react. This time, when Mrs. Parker stared at the hole in the sock she was darning, she really was concentrating on it. About ten minutes later, once Mrs. Parker�s flush had receded and she had regained her rightful courage, Mrs. Parker looked up and out again. She couldn�t believe the nerve of that girl. Mrs. Parker was doing nothing wrong; she was merely interested in the lives of her neighbors, just like anyone would be. Ms. Burns was out of the front hall and Mrs. Parker couldn�t see her through any of the windows. Idly, Mrs. Parker considered sending Ms. Burns a nice basket of fruit or maybe making a quick jello mold, just so show the young lady that Mrs. Parker, at least, was better than that and had already forgiven her for her impudence. This thought was soon lost, though, when Mrs. Parker spied Mr. Kao walking his dog, a small Yorkshire terrier, down the street. Mrs. Parker�s opinion on Mr. Kao hadn�t fully been developed yet, since he had just moved into the neighborhood about a month ago. She knew the man was polite, nice and had a good financial background. He had opened a small coffee shop a couple of blocks away and his family seemed very well behaved. They all went to church, smiled and nodded at Mrs. Parker if their paths ever crossed and generally were good people. Which is why Mrs. Parker wasn�t sure if she liked them or not. Good people always seemed to have something wrong with them, some fault, minor or major, that if not found out soon could destroy everything. Mrs. Parker had decided she would root out this flaw in Mr. Kao before someone else did. As she watched him walk down the block, following his small dog, she wondered if he was having an affair or cheated on his taxes. Mr. Kao walked right in front of a bookstore across the street, and Mrs. Parker�s attention was diverted to said bookstore. Mrs. Parker was well acquainted with the owner of the store, a very polite Mr. Fell. Mr. Fell had owned the store for many years now, although he didn�t seem to be much older than his mid-thirties, early-forties. Mrs. Parker didn�t quite hold with reading books for pleasure, not when there was so much work to be done, but she still respected the man. He always paid his taxes and never failed to offer Mrs. Parker a cup of tea, which she usually gracefully declined�couldn�t be a burden! Ah, and there was Mr. Fell now! He was walking out of the store, with another man behind him. Mrs. Parker didn�t actually know the other man personally, and she wasn�t sure of her opinion of him. Mr. Fell surely wouldn�t befriend anyone � iffy, but that word seemed to describe this other man perfectly. He was young, at least, younger than Mr. Fell--probably in the middle of his twenties. Mrs. Parker speculated this young man was Mr. Fell�s assistant. The other man just didn�t look respectable, and Mrs. Parker supposed that was the problem. He only dressed in black, which in itself made Mrs. Parker suspicious. Unless this young man was constantly in mourning, it just wasn�t right to always wear black. Also, he wore sunglasses. All the time. Sunglasses at night made Mrs. Parker nervous, and Mrs. Parker knew he wore them at night. He also drove a nice car�too nice, in Mrs. Parker�s humble opinion. He had money, that much was plain. And Mrs. Parker wasn�t sure he was doing poor old Mr. Fell any good with all that money and sass. Narrowing her eyes down at the bookstore�s doorstep, where Mr. Fell and the other man were standing and talking, assumedly saying goodbye, Mrs. Parker wondered if she should advise Mr. Fell to drop his acquaintance with this obviously bad influence. The young man started to walk away, toward his car, carelessly parked on the side of the street, and Mrs. Parker sighed in relief. Then, for an instant, it seemed he looked Mrs. Parker straight in the eyes, although, of course, that was impossible. First of all, Mrs. Parker was being very subtle with her hobby and, secondly, he was wearing sunglasses, so how could she even think that? After a second, the young man spun on his heel to face Mr. Fell, who was in the middle of saying one last thing to the other. The sunglasses-wearing fiend, which, Mrs. Parker now realized, was the only way to really describe him, walked straight toward Mr. Fell and � kissed him straight on the lips! Mrs. Parker�s eyes were riveted, in shock and disbelief. A small voice in the back of her mind, one before never heard, wondered if Mr. Fell would start to kiss back. When that exact thing happened, Mrs. Parker fainted, right into her pile of clothes to be mended. |