Fables fic: El Sueno de la Razon (1/1)

I finished the yuletide NYR 2005 Challenge, woo and yay.

TITLE: El Sueno de la Razon
RATING: R (bestiality warnings, obviously)
PAIRING: Snow/Bigby
SPOILERS: Set during #27
WRITTEN FOR: Seanan

THANKS TO: cjmarlowe for beta duties.

No one is afraid of the Big Bad Wolf anymore.

Not Dead

It occurs to me that perhaps I should post this one-liner at the end of each day, to tally up the bombing days during which I was not blown up. It further occurs to me that perhaps this could be taken as disrespectful etc etc. Nothing could be further from the truth. However, I, and many other Londoners, are just a bit tired at the moment. The main effect of these bombings has been to make us walk home after work, which leaves us tired and tetchy. Certainly it is making me question the wisdom of moving to Clapham in a couple of months, which is almost exclusively dependent on the Northern and Victoria lines. . . both of which were closed off for a while after each bombing.

I am fed up.

I am fed up of being shepherded around by police officers and of having my lunch hour distrupted by evacuations. I am fed up of trains being delayed endlessly, and of announcements every three minutes reminding us to take our luggage with us. I am fed up, most of all, of listening to my colleagues mutter about how this wouldn’t be a problem if all Muslims were deported. Yes, you read that right – all Muslims. In fact, I got fed up to the point where a group of them had to come to me afterwards and apologise for their comments, as I had very obviously taken great offence to the extent of getting ready to walk out. In their favour, they realized that they were out of line and amended their behaviour accordingly. But it was frustrating to have to deal with it to begin with.

I know that we’re supposed to be working away happily, with a Blitz spirit or whatever, but right this moment people are just pissed off. I am not the least bit surprised that the would-be bombers yesterday and today were tackled by the public; if the mood in my office is anything to go by, any other would-be bombers stand a real chance of being ripped apart before the police get to them. You can feel the anger in the city. It’s seeping in through the pores. We’re getting on with it – there’s not much else you can do – but suffice to say, we’re not happy.

I’m not quite sure where this post is going, actually. I’m supposed to be watching Nat’s play tonight with athena25 and queenspanky+1, but whether any of us can actually reach Golder’s Green in time without a Northern Line working is anyone’s guess.

If terrorists make me miss open-air theatre, I’m going to be even more annoyed.