louiselux: (Default)
louiselux ([personal profile] louiselux) wrote2006-02-19 01:29 pm
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Good Omens/Saiyuki ficlet - Far side of the world

Ficlet for [livejournal.com profile] thefourthvine, who wanted a Good Omens/Saiyuki crossover, with the prompt: 'Anything. I don't care.'

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley follow a band of miscreants.

Far side of the world



'Why have we got to walk?' Crowley said, again.

His feet were sore and whoever thought that nasty, scratchy straw rope was a good material for flip-flops? Nice soft leather was much more comfortable. He looked down at his feet as his brand new leather boots materialised and smiled. Aziraphale, he noticed, was wearing embroidered felt boots with nice squishy looking soles. 'They've got a car. Why can't we have a car?' he went on, thinking of something large and comfortable with padded seats and possibly walnut trim.

'We've been through this,' Aziraphale sighed. 'It's not a car. It's a transforming dragon.'

'Same difference,' Crowley said. It was an improvement on horses, at any rate.

'In any case cars haven't been invented yet,' Aziraphale went on.

Crowley yanked at his sash angrily. It just didn't seem to want to stay put on his shoulder. His chocolate brown novice's robe was hot and carried a faint tang of sheep. The foot of it was stained with red dust from the endless miles of sandstone road they'd covered. Aziraphale looked far cooler in his long white robes. He even had a sutra draped over his shoulders. It was purely for show, of course, but at least it got them better beds. In theory, Crowley could walk forever, but now he let his legs ache just to put himself in worse temper. It would serve Aziraphale right.

They'd been following the four of them for weeks-- 'those poor unfortunate boys', as Aziraphale insisted on calling them, although Crowley didn't see what was so unfortunate about a monk with a gun and an attitude problem, a redhead with a deathwish and mass of whirling blades, a madman who was even more polite than Aziraphale, not forgetting the teenager who also happened to be one of the most powerful beings ever to walk the earth and who was, incidentally, only kept in check by a sodding tiara. Aziraphale hadn't explained those parts, oh no. Unfortunate didn't even begin to cover it. Demented, more like. These people embraced violence like it was going out of style. The karmic fallout alone was beginning to give him a serious headache.

Disaster trailed behind them like a cloud and even Aziraphale was losing his enthusiasm for the trip. Crowley had been talked into it expecting a bit of a pleasant holiday and plenty of lazing about eating nice food, with added good conversation. He hadn't signed up for tracking four lunatics through endless terrain. 'We'll just to keep on eye on things', Aziraphale had said. 'From a distance. It'll be a nice change.' The lying angel.

'Can't we just bugger off? They can quite clearly look after themselves.'

'That's not the point. They need spiritual guidance,' Aziraphale said, clasping his hands. 'The fate of the world may rest with them.'

Right. As if Aziraphale wasn't here for the sake and sunshine.

'And? Nothing to do with me. I'm only here for the cuisine.'

'Yes,' Aziraphale said, his face contorting into a horrible smug smile. 'I expect you're looking forward to going back to your desk job.'

There was a short silence while Crowley spent some time sulking and Aziraphale examined his fingernails.

'I hate you,' Crowley said, eventually. 'Okay,' and Aziraphale beamed at him.

'Well, now that' settled… There's an inn coming up,' Aziraphale said, sighing happily. 'Would you like to stop for the night?'

'As long as we can eat something that doesn't involve cucumbers, beans or yams, yeah,' Crowley said. 'And I hope you're paying,' he snapped.

Aziraphale's stomach gurgled audibly. Served him right for suggesting that they posed as Buddhist priests, Crowley thought, and smirked. With all the walking and the rabbit food, Aziraphale was looking healthier than usual, but his sunny smile was far less evident.

'I'm quite sure it's your turn,' Aziraphale said, then, 'Oh. Oh dear.'

They had turned a bend in the road to find a green Jeep parked crosswise, blocking the path. The 'poor unfortunate boys' were sitting in it, clearly waiting for them.

'I thought you said they'd never notice us,' Crowley hissed.

'I-- may have been wrong,' said Aziraphale, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

'So, now what?' Crowley muttered.

'Let's just play it by ear. They're harmless enough fellows.'

'Are you insane?' Crowley said, but Aziraphale was smiling stonily ahead.

'Can we help you?' called the polite mad one, with a bright smile.

'Not likely,' Crowley muttered, flinching despite himself.

The monk cocked his gun.

'What the hell do you want with us?'

'Why, nothing at all,' said Aziraphale, in his most placating manner. 'We are but two peaceful monks travelling to the West. I am, um, Aziraphale Sanzo and this is my disciple-- '

'Watch it,' Crowley hissed.

'-- Reverend Crowley.'

'You don't have a chakra,' the monk said.

'He's a-- a heretic,' Crowley supplied, feeling it was time he had some input. Aziraphale tutted next to him.

There was a thump as the all-powerful teenager leapt from the car and thudded into the dust in front of it.

'D'ya think they're really who they say they are?' the kid asked. He snuffed the air in a beastlike way that reminded Crowley far too much of home. His real home. 'They smell weird.'

'In what way?' the madman said. He was already climbing out of his seat, straightening his tunic as he did so.

'Of-- nuthin'.'

'Oh dear,' the madman said, and his voice chimed perfectly with Aziraphale's.

They smiled at each other and Crowley took an involuntary step backwards.

'Not more friggin' shikigamis,' the redhead said, flicking his cigarette butt away. 'At least they could’ve sent better ones than this. Do they look kinda half-baked to you?'

'Excuse me-- ' Aziraphale began, sticking his nose in the air.

'Look. We know you're following us, morons,' the monk said. 'We might as well kill you now. I can't be bothered to argue.'

'It would save time,' the madman agreed.

'Yeah,' the teenager scowled. 'An' I don't want to waste time on them when I could be eatin'.'

The monk sat back and tucked his gun back into his voluminous sleeves and the others seemed to take it as their cue for action. The tall red-haired man sprang from the back seat.

'You take the scrawny one, Goku. The chubby one's mine.'

A metal staff flashed into his hand and Crowley picked up a faint dry acrid scent that made him want to sneeze, like a cross between ectoplasm and smelted steel.

'I'm big boned!' Aziraphale said, indignantly. 'Your mother clearly never taught you manners, Sha Gojyo. Among other things.'

'What the hell did you just say?' Sha Gojyo said. His eyes drooped to evil slits.

Crowley found himself reluctantly impressed, but he didn't have time to dwell on it because the teenager was bounding towards him and the words 'sage with powers greater than heaven' clanged through his mind like a fire bell, making it hard to think about anything except how to avoid getting beaten to a pulp.

'Um, perhaps we should employ plan B,' Aziraphale gasped, stumbling backwards and catching hold of a silver blade with both hands, just as it sliced through the air near his face. 'Ow. Bother.'

'Which is?' Crowley said, dodging a blow and nearly dislocating his back in the process.

'Hey, that's not bad,' the teenager shouted, enthusiastically.

'Er, what was the question again?' Aziraphale said, leaping backwards to avoid the hissing ball of light that the madman had thrown. Crowley felt a hot breeze on his face as it flared passed and shivered, despite himself. But he didn't have time to worry about it because the demented kid was charging again, cracking him on the shoulder this time. He heard and felt something break. Bugger. There was no way he was spending a decade in requisition waiting for a new body to come through. He flung out his arm and backhanded the kid across the road, taking him by surprise. Aziraphale was remonstrating politely with the others, tied up as he was in chains and buffeted by blasts of light that ruffled his hair back from his forehead.

'My, they're certainly hard to kill, aren't they?' the madman said.

The kid leapt up and then wide golden eyes met his and Crowley's heart sank. He looked happy, joyful even. In the background he heard the redhead laughing at something the madman was saying. He dodged backwards, just managing to miss a blow that would have crushed his skull.

'Aziraphale! Do something.'

'What?'

'Anything. I don't care!'

'Oh, all right.' Aziraphale stood upright and seemed to get taller and his chest broader. White light framed him, shimmering like a halo and Crowley had to avert his eyes in pain. The chains dropped of him, making Sha Gojyo stumble. 'I really didn't want it to come to this,' Aziraphale said, with a cold little smile.

Their weapons vanished, flashing out of existence. Goku fell to the ground, unconscious, and the redhead stumbled backwards, his eyes wide. In the Jeep the monk was scrabbling for a gun that wasn't there, and then for a sutra that was fluttered into Aziraphale's palm and rolled up tight. The polite madman had frozen, halfway towards them. His eyes slewed round to the redhead in fear.

'What did you do?' the monk hissed, his eyes flicking between the unconscious kid and Aziraphale. 'Give it back, or you're dead.' He leapt up and Crowley made a movement with his fingers. The monk froze in place. They all did.

'You're very violent,' Crowley said. 'I like that in a holy man.'

'I'm going to shoot you as soon as I get free.'

'You can't harm us, Genjo Sanzo,' Aziraphale said with a touch of impatience.

'Why not?' Genjo Sanzo didn't sound like he was at all convinced.

'If I told you I'd have to kill you,' Crowley said, wandering over to the kid and prodding him with his toe. He sighed and Crowley heard a faint mutter, something about meat buns.

'Leave him alone,' Sanzo growled.

'He's perfectly fine,' Aziraphale said. 'He's having a lovely dream-- '

'Pardon me, but can we move this along, please?' the mad one said, meeting Aziraphale's eyes with a sharp green gaze. He showed his teeth. 'It's somewhat troublesome to be frozen in place like this.'

Aziraphale's set his jaw in a mulish way that Crowley recognised as bad news. 'Of course, Cho Hakkai,' Aziraphale said, with a prim little smile. 'Just as soon as you understand that you or your charming friend,' and he nodded Gojyo, 'are not going to disembowel us.'

Cho Hakkai gazed back, steady and cold although he looked a little pale. 'We can't promise anything of the sort, I'm afraid.'

'I still think they're shikigamis,' Gojyo said, huffing. 'Crappy ones, too.'

'You know, it's times like this that make me wonder why I even bother,' Aziraphale said, twirling the sutra in one hand.

'How can we possibly know you mean us no harm?' said Hakkai.

Crowley sucked on his bottom lip. His stomach made an audible gurgling sound. Tempting a monk would look good on his yearly review, and he'd be able to claim the expenses back.

'How about if we buy you dinner?' he said.


***

Crowley watched in horrified fascination at the mountain of food that disappeared down Goku's gullet. He didn't even have to exert any wiles - amazing. He was now putting away banana sundae at a faster rate than even Aziraphale could manage. Crowley sat back and relaxed. His work here was done-- or rather, he hadn't had to do any in the first place. Everyone already ate and drank and gambled too much. Sha Gojyo lusted after bodies left right and centre. Quite literally, Crowley thought, sliding his gaze at Hakkai, who appeared rather pink and possibly slightly less insane than this afternoon.

Crowley watched Aziraphale attempting to make conversation with the monk. They should sell tickets, Crowley thought, grinning, as Sanzo shot him a hot glare. Genjo Sanzo was a thing of beauty: violent, impatient, angry and unfailingly rude. The only thing that tarnished it, as Crowley had been annoyed to discover, was that he loved his companions.

'So, who did send you?' Goku asked, leaning in and speaking in a low voice.

Crowley met those strange yellow eyes. They were wide and open and Crowley could almost smell the honesty in them. He could practically taste the devotion that seemed to almost seep out of the kid's pores. It stuck in his throat. He could see someone else too, behind those eyes: someone that shrieked with violence and cunning. He swallowed, finding it quite hard to speak. Sanzo was watching them.

'Don't ask,' Crowley said. 'You don't want to meet them, trust me.'

'Why? Are they bad?'

Crowley nodded. He didn't know what his bosses would make of Goku, but it wouldn't be anything very good.

What a terrible life they all led. He comforted himself with that thought for a few moments, before it struck him that, now, together and safe for the night, they were happy.

Better leave them as they were.