Disclaimer: Not mine. Good Omens is all Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. And Person of Interest is all... other people that aren't me.
AN: In honor of my 666 followers (on Tumblr). And because isagrimorie asked.
"Hey, Sameen'iel? What is it with humans and that number?"
The serpent is lying on the floor on her stomach, looking through a big book about symbols and their meanings.
The angel hadn't been paying attention to her uninvited guest. Preferring to actually spend her time on something worthwhile, something useful, something important.*
"Six hundred and sixty six. It's really not a demonic number. I mean granted all math is Ours, but really… at the end of the day it's just a number. It's certainly not going to summon any of the Princes of Hell, let alone the King himself. So why are they making such a big deal out of it?"
Shaw would roll her eyes, but she is at war, and it wouldn't do for an Angel of the Lord to lose to a mere Hound of Hell, Root would Never let her forget it. And for them Never is a really long time.
"It's human nature. You know that. And math is not Yours."
"Really? Millions of children would probably disagree."
"Understanding it reveals the cornerstones of universe, that draws them nearer to Us and you know that."
"Yes, but there are so few who understand and so many who don't."
Her stare suddenly turns into a glare and the (possibly) Hellhound whines under the holy power of it. She almost feels regret, that one wasn't meant for him.
She hears the demon flicking to a new page with a slight 'hmm' of thought.
"What about seven seven seven? That one belongs to your side right?"
"That's gambling, definitely not Ours."
"Oh right. Hey, Angel?"
Unease prickles over Shaw's neck. Root only ever refers to her as such when she has her long term temptation on mind again.
"I bet you get the last bacon. And if I win I get a kiss."
Shaw's jaw clenches and she breathes out in frustration. Then, before she can change her mind, she pushes the plate towards Bear and mournfully looks on as he happily consumes it.
* She was having a staring contest with a large, possibly demonic dog called Bear, from the opposite sides of a tea table, over the plate holding the last piece of bacon. **
** Like she said. IMPORTANT.