Eddie: Your son is out of control.
Buck: M-my son? I can barely stop getting flustered when you call Chris 'our' son, why are you calling him just mine all of a sudden?!
Eddie: Because he's dating five different girls and you need to talk him out of it. Now.
Buck, blinking rapidly: ...Yeah, alright. I can see how that is my problem. Five though?
Eddie: It better not be six.
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Snatched 2: Panic! at the Discorporation
I was so blown away by the response to Snatched that I wrote a second chapter. Thanks to @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon for betaing and the @goodomensafterdark community. Enjoy 😊
Summary: What do a demon, an ex-psychic, and a tiktok-famous mortician have in common? They’re all on a mission to track down some angelic ass.
Rating M, 5k total.
TW: medical procedures, description of a gunshot wound (non-graphic), dead bodies (but no one actually dies I promise)
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Crowley was woken from a restless mid-day nap by the opening notes of “Send my love to your new lover” echoing in from the living room, and for a confused moment he thought his stereo system had turned on all by itself. Then he realized it was the custom ringtone he’d set in a fit of drunken anger, and scrambled to grab his mobile.
“Nastiest skank bitch” showed up on the screen, and Crowley’s heart leapt.
He answered with trepidation. “Angel, hi.”
But it wasn’t Aziraphale on the other end. “Mister Crowley?” A timid voice asked.
He frowned. “Muriel? How did you get my number?”
“I just asked the bookshop phone to call you.”
That explained the caller ID.
“What do you want?” Crowley asked.
“He said that if anything went wrong, went really wrong, only in the absolute worst case, you understand, that I should call you.”
“Who said?”
“The Supreme Archangel.”
Crowley fumed. So Aziraphale was going to play a literal game of telephone. “You can tell His Most Holy Supreme Arseangel that if he wants to talk, he can bloody well - hang on, did you say something went really wrong?”
“He’s missing,” Muriel said. “No one can find him.”
“Archangels don’t just go missing.” Except for that time with Gabriel, but Crowley highly doubted Aziraphale was wandering around Soho with his staff and crown jewels flapping in the breeze.
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