Author's Note/ Disclaimers
So, this doesn't fit under any one category. It's a crossover between "Good Omens" and HBO's television show "Rome". But I've put it under "Good Omens" because the story is mainly Crowley-centric. And, just so you know, I own none of the characters. So, on with the show. This contains Crowley/Aziraphale, Crowley/Cassius, Cassius/Brutus, and implied Crowley/Brutus and Crowley/Marc Antony. Because apparently my Crowley is a man whore. Enjoy and review! Thanks!


44 BC, Rome

Crowley had been in Rome for quite awhile now. It was, now that he thought about it, one of his favorite cities. Not that there were many cities around at this point that were quite as happening as Rome, but Aziraphale was always going on about Greece and Athens and philosophy and all that blather.

The Romans were just generally more fun. And you couldn't really say that about Plato, now could you?

Besides, he had a sort of project at the moment. It was taking quite a while, to his great annoyance. If the guy weren't so damn noble, it would all be so much simpler, but he had to work every angle with this one.

The mother was sooooo easy. It was a snap, not even work. Servilia of the Junii was already full of vengeance, all he'd had to do was suggest the involvement of her son in her already developing plan. She was really such a woman. Crowley was fond of her.

Cassius wasn't so easy. He had to concentrate on Cassius, because Cassius was so easily distracted these days. Cassius was very fond of Brutus, which made things complicated. Servilia saw her son as a tool in her great scheme, Cassius saw Brutus as a good friend that he wanted to win over. Friendship really was so annoying, Crowley found. If Crowley got impatient, or if Cassius were to push Brutus too hard, the young senator would simply go running back over to Caesar.

Who was getting rather impatient and doubtful himself, and would soon try to send Brutus to Macedonia. Which Brutus would hear nothing of.

'See, everything works out in the end…' Crowley thought.

But Cassius had been such a pleasure to finally break. Men like Cassius were the reason Crowley enjoyed Rome so much. He'd been so willing, so pliant and pleading. And what had made Cassius's short seduction so much sweeter had been how much he wanted Brutus. Gods, Cassius longed for Brutus. Crowley had done all he could to keep himself from laughing out loud when he discovered this. Cassius had thought of Brutus when Crowley had had him, Crowley knew, and it was so exquisitely sweet to torture him with. Crowley had whispered in his ear, mid-thrust, an obscenely delicious remark about Brutus arching his back into him like that, and Cassius had cried aloud, letting it die into a sort of whimper as they moved against each other.

And Brutus's will was beginning to break. Crowley smiled to himself, he couldn't wait.


"I don't know what you think you're doing, he's not going to give in to you."

"If I remember correctly angel, you did. And continue to."

Aziraphale flushed a dark pink.

"And besides, he already has." Crowley leant back against the stone column, watching the people cross the Forum in the early morning light.
"You didn't." Aziraphale studied him.
"Oh yes, or hadn't you noticed that your most noble of all Romans enjoyed the company of other men?"

The angel sighed. "Yes, I thought so. I was just hoping that it wouldn't become part of this 'great scheme' as you call it. But I can see it has."
"Plotting evil is always more fun when there is sex. Particularly if you can use it against someone, as in the case of our dear Brutus and poor Cassius."

"So what have you planned?" Aziraphale asked him, and Crowley studied his nails nonchalantly.
"You'll see."
"And how is Marc Antony?"
"Not fucking me."
Aziraphale frowned. "I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"


Brutus groaned into Cassius's neck, his fingers pressing desperately into the older man's back, and ground his hips into him, seeking out more friction, more heat. Cassius gripped him harder, searching inside Brutus for the sensitive places, and the young senator shuddered against him. His breath came shallow and quick. Cassius kissed him suddenly, thrusting against him harder, their tongues sliding against each other. Brutus arched into it, and Cassius suddenly gripped him fiercely, shuddering and letting out a gasp of air. Brutus groaned again, but Cassius was on his knees, and a few frantic thrusts later he was breathing normally again and Cassius's mouth was on his.

Hours later, when Cassius left, he felt more than just a twinge of guilt.

"For the good of the Republic." They would say.


Aziraphale looked solemn and regretful when Crowley next saw him.

"So you've heard then?"
Aziraphale gave him The Look. "If I'd have known you were plotting to have Caesar murdered, I wouldn't have allowed it. Why?"
Crowley shrugged. "The good of the Republic?"
Aziraphale raised one eyebrow.

"Well, look, history has to take it's course, right?" Crowley gestured around him. "You're always saying so anyway. I just set it into motion, just wait. They're all going to be immortals, those bastards, every one of them."

"The conspirators? Brutus?" Aziraphale snorted, disbelievingly.
Crowley smiled and glanced sideways at him. "Just wait, angel."


1599 AD, England

Crowley watched Aziraphale's expression change from amusement, to confusion, and finally to disapproval.

"You can't be serious."
Crowley's glee was obvious. "I am dead serious. Guess who I will be playing?"
Aziraphale flipped through the pages. "Hopefully not the 'Noblest Roman of Them All?'"

"No," the demon grinned "Cassius."
Aziraphale could barely suppress a smile. "Of course."
"It's really quite a good piece of work. Particularly Antony's speech, although the Marc Antony we knew would never have been capable of coming up with something quite as eloquent as this." Crowley trailed off.

The angel found the spot Crowley was talking about. "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears?"
"Aziraphale, it's not meant to be a question."
Azriaphale snorted, and Crowley cast a sideways look at him. "What?"

"Do you know, that in Dante's "Inferno", Brutus and Cassius reside with the other traitors in the last circle of Hell and are chewed by Satan for eternity?"
"Of course, but you and I both know that Dante was full of shit. And that Hell doesn't have circles. It's just Hell."
"But they're there?" Aziraphale asked, still reading the play, though rather absentmindedly.
"Who? Cassius and Brutus? Of course they're there. Treason, murder, lust…which reminds me, Antony is there too."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "This is the glorification of a band of murderers who betrayed their leader and used each other's weaknesses against them."
"You don't like it." Crowley frowned, and snatched the play away.
The angel sighed. "It's very well written."

They walked in silence for a few minutes more, skirting along the edge of the park, and trying to stay in the shade of the large oaks. Crowley put a hand on the small of Aziraphale's back, guiding him down one of the paths, and said quietly, "I was right, you know."

"Hmm…?" Aziraphale murmured softly.
"When I said they would be immortals."
"Yes, well, immortals being chewed on by Satan, according to Dante." The angel yawned, and moved closer to Crowley, who hesitated slightly but slipped then arm around his waist.
"Still, I told you so."
"Hush, Crowley."
Crowley sighed contentedly. "Yes, all right." And counted this battle as won.