Murata clenched his fingers on the steering wheel and reminded himself that he cared about his partner-in-eternal-convenience more than almost anything in the world (except his car, and his plants, and the way light reflected off his glasses when he really needed to feel evil). Killing him while they were stuck in a traffic jam was not ideal in any way.
For some reason, Shibuya seemed to have no idea how close he was to death. "Don't you have any good music in this car?" he wanted to know, wide-eyed as he rifled through the CD cases. "Why is it that all your music is in English? What's Zaa Biichi Boizu?"
"The Beach Boys are fun," Murata protested under his breath, but Shibuya either didn't hear him or wasn't interested in excuses.
"You should broaden your musical tastes! Get some B'z or Hikaru or something in here. Gaah. It's so hot. I wish we could get out of this city-- I guess you were right, we probably shouldn't have tried to drive by Akihabara. Do you have air-conditioning?"
Murata tuned him out, humming Help Me Rhonda under his breath, and thought almost longingly about the upcoming apocalypse.
"I hope we get to the Shinou before everyone else does," Yuuri said, sounding worried. It was the most relevant thing he'd said in at least twenty minutes. "Somehow I don't think Wolfram exploding from the heavens in a nightgown with flaming sword in hand is the most diplomatic way of handling things."
"Wolfram, huh," Murata said, nudging his glasses out of the way to rub at his temple wearily. "Sounds like your side has got quite the welcome party planned."
Yuuri gave him a skeptical glance, tossing an autographed baseball into the air (the last surviving piece of memorabilia from his collection) and plucking it out again. "What about your side? I suppose you're just going to ask the Shinou if he'd like to sit down and have a cup of tea? No waging war on Heaven, no consuming the universe and obliterating all goodness for eternity?"
Upon consideration, Murata had to admit that as unreasonable as he'd heard from Yuuri that the archangel Wolfram could be, he'd never been exactly thrilled with the demon duke Roufas's spirit of cooperation either.
"Well, it doesn't matter. We're going to get to him first."
He glanced at the clock on the sideboard. 4:57 PM. They had an hour and eleven minutes to make a three-hour trip to the forsaken pit in the middle of nowhere that some quirk of fate had deposited the Shinou in, when he should have spent his life safe under Murata's watchful eye.
And if he lost this chance, someone would kill the Shinou (and possibly a few billion other people) before he even had a chance to live and Murata would never get laid.
4:58 PM -- an hour and ten minutes. Murata turned the wheel, hard, and stepped on the gas.
KKM/Good Omens, Murata as Crowley: "Decisive Time"
For some reason, Shibuya seemed to have no idea how close he was to death. "Don't you have any good music in this car?" he wanted to know, wide-eyed as he rifled through the CD cases. "Why is it that all your music is in English? What's Zaa Biichi Boizu?"
"The Beach Boys are fun," Murata protested under his breath, but Shibuya either didn't hear him or wasn't interested in excuses.
"You should broaden your musical tastes! Get some B'z or Hikaru or something in here. Gaah. It's so hot. I wish we could get out of this city-- I guess you were right, we probably shouldn't have tried to drive by Akihabara. Do you have air-conditioning?"
Murata tuned him out, humming Help Me Rhonda under his breath, and thought almost longingly about the upcoming apocalypse.
"I hope we get to the Shinou before everyone else does," Yuuri said, sounding worried. It was the most relevant thing he'd said in at least twenty minutes. "Somehow I don't think Wolfram exploding from the heavens in a nightgown with flaming sword in hand is the most diplomatic way of handling things."
"Wolfram, huh," Murata said, nudging his glasses out of the way to rub at his temple wearily. "Sounds like your side has got quite the welcome party planned."
Yuuri gave him a skeptical glance, tossing an autographed baseball into the air (the last surviving piece of memorabilia from his collection) and plucking it out again. "What about your side? I suppose you're just going to ask the Shinou if he'd like to sit down and have a cup of tea? No waging war on Heaven, no consuming the universe and obliterating all goodness for eternity?"
Upon consideration, Murata had to admit that as unreasonable as he'd heard from Yuuri that the archangel Wolfram could be, he'd never been exactly thrilled with the demon duke Roufas's spirit of cooperation either.
"Well, it doesn't matter. We're going to get to him first."
He glanced at the clock on the sideboard. 4:57 PM. They had an hour and eleven minutes to make a three-hour trip to the forsaken pit in the middle of nowhere that some quirk of fate had deposited the Shinou in, when he should have spent his life safe under Murata's watchful eye.
And if he lost this chance, someone would kill the Shinou (and possibly a few billion other people) before he even had a chance to live and Murata would never get laid.
4:58 PM -- an hour and ten minutes. Murata turned the wheel, hard, and stepped on the gas.