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Good Omens...And Bad: Prophecy in Theory and Practice, Class Thirteen

Monday, December 4, First Period

There are plenty of bakery items and hot beverages laid out, but the classroom appears to have been rearranged. The chairs and tables are moved to the walls, leaving the center of the room open.

"Good morning, everyone! I want to remind you all that I will be leaving briefly for an assignment. In my absence, Dr Wilson will be conducting class, with the assistance of my TAs. Now today, in lieu of a regular lecture, we're instead going to be rehearsing for the pageant on Friday."

[ooc: ~~Please wait for~~ OCD is up. Rehearse!]

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"In...goodness, in my own body I hope." Aziraphale frowned, hating that he didn't have more information about the assignment. "I shouldn't be gone very long. At least, I hope not to. They haven't told me much, I'm afraid."

He chuckled softly, if a little sadly. "That would be lovely, my dear. I expect he'll be trying very hard to hide away by himself."

"I don't suppose I can get a contact number for you? Just in case I want to shoot the breeze or have an urgent question about tea?" Blair asked hopefully.

"I'll check on him, man. I promise." Blair nodded forcefully, adament that Dr. Wilson would have company while Phale was gone.

"You could try to call my cell phone, but to be honest, I can't promise that you'll be able to get through. But you can certainly try."

Aziraphale smiled, both touched that Blair wanted a way to get hold of him, and relieved at the young man's promise to keep tabs on Wilson. Not that Wilson needed watching, but the angel was glad to know that the young doctor wouldn't be alone.

"I'll, er...bring you back a souvenir?" he offered.

"I'll try." Blair nodded and then grinned, bouncing a little. "Souvenir's are awesome, man!"

He was trying to keep the bouncing to a minimum today because of the head bonking over the weekend, but Aziraphale seemed like he could use a little bounce.

Aziraphale certainly could, and his smile grew a bit at the bouncing. Although he did still look awfully concerned about Blair's head injury.

And then he also wondered what exactly he'd gotten himself into, promising a souvenir from a mission that he didn't even know anything about. Still, Blair looked happy at the idea, and so the angel would do his best.

"I do appreciate your willingness to help with the pageant, by the way. I'll ~~handwavily~~ set up at account at All and Sundries and Stuff for Sale, in case you and Mr Winchester need supplies."

"Good idea, man." Blair nodded. "The turbans and parachute pants we can make ourselves, but we'll have to buy the hoop earrings."

Turbans he'd expected, but...

"Er...parachute pants?"

Seeing as how Aziraphale had jumped directly from the 1950s to the twenty-first century with his fashion knowledge, all he could imagine were...well, actually, he couldn't imagine how one might make pants out of parachutes.

Or why one would want to.

"You know, baggy pants gathered at the ankles. Really popular with break dancing?" Blair briefly contemplated giving an example of said dancing and decided that it wouldn't be helpful for his head. "It's very 'stop, hammer time'."

One could practically see the wheels turning in Aziraphale's head as he attempted to reconcile the words 'break', 'dance', and 'hammer' into a coherent concept that could be applied to the garment industry.

The blinking was a good indication that he wasn't getting very far.

"Er...quite," he finally murmured. "Hammer time. Indeed. Well then. I'm certain it'll be just lovely."

"Uh-huh." Blair wasn't sure lovely would be the right word but he grinned. "Dean and I are..uh...really having fun with this, man."

"Good." Aziraphale nodded. "That's the intention, and I hope that everyone has fun with it. James has promised to use Miss Longstocking's video camera to record the whole pageant, so that I can see it when I return."

"Great." Blair nodded. "Dean and I'll make sure it's memorable."

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Good Omens...And Bad: Prophecy in Theory and Practice, Class Thirteen

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