'JUST THINK OF IT AS LEAVING EARLY TO AVOID THE RUSH.'
In which an angel, a demon, and their adoptive daughter decide to stop Armageddon. Except it's days away, they've lost the antichrist, Heaven and Hell are both breathing down their necks, and th...
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The gang takes a trip in the most wonderful car of all; The Bentley.
***
The Bentley's tires screeched against the pavement as the car wove in and out of traffic at speeds that no other car would ever dare go in the middle of London. In the back of the Bentley was Freddie, perfectly at ease despite the speed at which her Dad was driving. (Growing up the way she did meant that Freddie had capital-O Opinions about how cars and traffic laws should and should not work. Namely, she believed that cars were built for speed and that traffic laws were something that happened to other people. She was also learning to drive from the semi-sentient car itself; the roads of the world were not prepared for the sheer force of nature that Freddie with a license was certain to be.)
Aziraphale, on the other hand, was not at all pleased with the breakneck speed, and clutched desperately at the door from his place in the passenger seat. Nevertheless, he tried to ignore the Angelic equivalent of car sickness he was feeling, and addressed Crowley.
"You've lost the boy."
"We've lost him," Crowley replied instantly.
"I didn't," Freddie said, voice chock full of feigned innocence. "I was five at the time, so none of this is on me."
Both of her fathers ignored her cheeky remark. Aziraphale said placatingly, "A child has been lost. But you still know his age-"
"We know," Crowley said.
"We know his birthday," Aziraphale continued. "He's eleven."
"You make it sound easy," Crowley muttered.
"Well, it can't be that hard," the Angel replied.
Freddie leaned forward, her voice dripping with skepticism. "How many eleven year old boys do you think there are in the world, Pops?"
Aziraphale fixed her with a fondly exasperated look. "I know there are plenty of eleven year old boys, but I also know that the three of us can find the right one. That's why we're going out searching, of course. So we can find him. Oh... I only hope nothing's happened to him."
"Happened?" Crowley said incredulously. "Nothing's happened to him. He happens to everything."
Aziraphale ignored that. "So we only have to find his birth records. Go through the hospital files, like Freddie was suggesting earlier."
