writetomyheart | [team one] love is a natural disaster

~900 words of Good Omens fic part of a larger fic I'm writing. Hinted Crowley/Aziraphale in this section and definitely some hints at Good Omens 2 spoilers. (if you know, you know).

“What's your excuse this time, Margot?” Stella asked from behind the counter. She was already ready to leave, purse over her shoulder.

Margot sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry, sorry!”

She raced behind the counter, chucking her purse and jacket into the small cubby just below the register. She’d put it away properly later.

In truth, she had been on track to be on time. Early even! But then, just a few streets from the coffee shop, she had seen the strangest sight. She could have sworn it was Mr. Crowley’s all-black car.

Except this car had bright, sunshine-yellow hubcaps.

She had pulled out her phone, ready to snap a picture— no one would believe her otherwise— but just as she pressed the button the car roared to life, speeding away at a speed she thought impossible to even obtain in central London.

She blinked as it approached an intersection— the very one she had to walk through to get to work— sure that the car would run the red light— but then it turned green much faster than it should have.

Of course, then her walk sign turned red and she had to wait for the next one.

“I’m ready,” Margot said, “Won't’ happen again, Stella, promise.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Stella rolled her eyes but left with a grin on her face.

Margot groaned, glancing around the tables. Their usual customers were in their spots, and the coffee was brewing, ready for an early evening rush. Everything seemed on track for normal evening.

“Oh, Margot dear. I thought you didn’t work Tuesday evenings.”

Margot startled, looking up from where she had started mentally making a list of all that had to be done before close. “Oh! Mr. Fell!” She grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, normally I don’t, but I had to trade with another guy who needed the night off. So I’m afraid you are stuck with me. Do you want your usual?”

“Oh… well. Maybe i should try something new?”

Margot frowned. Mr. Fell didn’t sound too sure of that. “Well… are you feeling coffee? Or teal?”

Mr. Fell’s frown deepend. “Oh… I’m not sure I’m feeling anything. I… I suppose I’m not very used to trying new things. Cro—someone else… would tell me to try something.”

Margot caught the momentary error. It was the first time Mr. Fell even indicated that he did, in fact, know Mr. Crowley.

“Well… we could try six espresso shots in a large cup?”

Wrong thing to say. Mr. Fell’s frown turned downwards even more, and his eyes shuttered with hurt. “Oh well. Perhaps today's not the day to try anything at all. I—”

“I mean—” Margot tried to salvage the situation. “Perhaps a Mocha? It has espresso in it, but milk and chocolate too. It’s sort of like a hot chocolate?”

Mr. Fell paused where he had begun to walk away. “Oh. Well… I suppose that sounds alright.”

Margot grinned in relief. “I think you’ll like it, Mr. Fell. It was one of my favorites before I started working here. My ex introduced me to them. One of the few good things they ever did.”

“Oh well, I’m sure they had other good points?”

Margot huffed, adding the espresso shot to the bottom of a medium cup and then setting the milk to steam. “Maybe. We really weren’t together long enough to find out. They wanted one thing and were willing to leave me behind to get it. It’s kind of hard to find the good in someone after you’re told that you’re not good enough as is.”

“Oh…” Mr. Fell sounded disappointed for some reason. “I suppose love wouldn’t be able to surviv—”

Margot looked up from making Mr. Fell’s mocha. “Love? Nah. Like I said, we weren’t together long enough for a relationship to nurture, much less for love to grow. I think true love is a little more complicated than that.”

“Oh?” Mr. Fell raised an eyebrow. “What is love then, in your opinion?”

Margot frowned. What a strange question. Especially for a customer to ask a coffee barista. But then again, her brother once said that the bartender at his local pup was as good as a therapist some days. Margot couldn’t really see Mr. Fell at a pub, so maybe this was his version of that.

Stalling by adding the milk to the espresso, Margot thought about it, fighting back the urge to hum 'baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me…'

“Love is… well…” Margot’s brow furrowed unsure of how to phrase it. It was hard to describe something she never really felt herself. All she had to work with was her parents' 30-year marriage and what she had seen when her best friend got married four years ago.

It wasn't exactly a large sample size.

She took a deep breath, suddenly sure that this answer had a lot more riding on in than a simple philosophical question. “It’s… It’s reaching out because you know that someone’s hand is there waiting for you to take it. It’s seeing someone, really seeing them. The good, the bad, and the human, understanding every bit of it, and saying “Yeah, you’re my person.” It’s reliable, it’s friendship, it’s—”

“It’s being on the same side,” Mr. Fell said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Margot added an extra scoop of chocolate chips on top of the whipped cream she had just stacked on the mocha. She sensed a lot of sadness in that statement and hoped that the extra chocolate would help. “Yeah. That’s a way to put it I suppose.”

She gently passed the mocha over to Mr. Fell, noticing his shaking hands. “Like I said, love is complicated but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

next up is Nichi. I'll tag you on discord, but your line is "Like I said, love is complicated but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”