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[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: April 6th, 2000
Setting: Centre of Tadfield
Status: Private - Aziraphale
Summary: The haircut.



For the first night since Aziraphale had returned, Crowley wasn't there.

He hadn't slept a wink.

He didn't see Crowley the next day either, and this time there was no note, no anything. His cozy chat with Raphael still rang in his ears, and he hoped that nothing too terrible had happened. The vague sensation of unease that crept up his spine was unnerving.

The angel took the day off and decided to get a haircut rather than lying about waiting to hear from the demon. It was far more sensible.

Bereft of a ride, he called for a cabbie, and was promptly taken to Miss Sharon's, a nice if slightly glamourous looking place. They also, perhaps rather conveniently, offered manicures.

"It couldn't hurt," he reasoned, as he was led to a seat by a young man who kept cooing over his long hair.

"Such gorgeousness," the limp-wristed man sighed at him as he undid the ribbon. "A shame to touch it, really."

"Ah... thank you, but I would really like a nice cut. Something shorter, perhaps?" he asked tentatively, blinking at his reflection in the mirror.

"The horror! Oh, well, if you insist. Maybe you do look too much like the typical ange. Now, darling, close your eyes and tip your head back, and let me do the rest. We'll have Claire do your nails. Listen to the music, and relax."

"Erm. All right," Aziraphale agreed, and closed his eyes.

He was woken an hour later, slightly dazed, by the young man giving him a pinch. On the bum.

Disoriented, he muttered, "Crowley?" and there was a giggle and a shake of unfamiliar hair.

"Darling, you fell asleep on us. Open your eyes and behold your new look."

Aziraphale stared.

"I'm wearing nail polish."

The boy cringed. "Well, yes, since you didn't answer us about what colour you wanted. The other choice was this nice deep red, but we thought a simple French manicure would be better suited."

Aziraphale squinted at his nails. They didn't look too bad, just... slightly shiny. He thought of Crowley's reaction and shivered. "Well... all right. I do like the hairstyle."

"Oh, yes, the Cupid look. Very Greek, hmm?"

"Roman, my dear." The angel touched the shorter curls and smiled. He still looked a bit like that Muggle actress with the name of a sweet drink* but it wasn't half as bad as resembling Fabio.

He paid, leaving a generous tip, and made his way back to the Manor.

*Shirley Temple.