Yeah, that's right. Give a little encouragement and look
what happens.
I
doubt this one will have much of a plot either but it's more angsty
than
the other one, which means more fun for me to write. I guess its
kind
of a character exploration type thing.
So,
here it is. Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a bad day.
By all intents and purposes, Crowley knew he should be pleased with the way his day was going. He had so far tied up traffic on the more busier roads during the early morning rush hour by playing red light/green light at a mad pace and also during the lunch break hour. The amount of ill will he was generating was really quite large. Crowley should have been quite pleased.
But something was nagging on his mind. A strange sort of sensation that he couldn't quite place but extremely annoying. Sort of like the feeling of an itch somewhere on your body that you couldn't locate to scratch. It was causing him to grow into a fouler mood as the hours passed.
Waving the door to his apartment open, Crowley strolled into his living room and noted the plants on his windowsill visibly straighten with nervous anticipation. Perhaps dumping one a little earlier than the usual time would cheer him up or at least shake him out of this feeling of gloom that he had. Walking up to the neatly sitting row, Crowley slowly took off his sunglasses, the gesture looking rather menacing.
The yellow, slit eyes roved from each plant to the next, narrowed slightly in exaggerated inspection as each plant did its best not to quiver or feel fear. They believed Crowley could smell fear. But one potted green on the far right couldn't help but twitch slightly, catching the demon's notice. A smile formed on Crowley's face.
"Well, say goodbye to your friend..." he began as he reached for the now completely wilted plant. Why should it bother keeping up appearances if it was going into the bin now anyway?
"CROWLEY?"
Stopping in his move to grab the plant, Crowley turned around to look in the general direction of his stereo system where the voice seemed to be coming from.
"Ah..hello, lord."
"WE HAVE TWO NEW ARRIVALS, CROWLEY," continued the rather smug sounding voice.
"Errr...that's nice, lord" replied the demon, confused. Hell got plenty of new arrivals every day. Were they getting so pathetic down there that they needed to call him to gloat about a measly two souls being brought down?
"TWO SPECIAL ARRIVALS," clarified the still smug voice.
The demon moved to inquire why special but he was beaten to the punch as the information fell on his head with all the ceremony of an anvil falling on a cartoon character's head.
"Fuck," muttered the demon.
"WE ARE VERY PLEASED."
"Pleased? Why would-
More information came falling in. It was rather a large chunk this time, leaving Crowley wishing he could just get all of this via a fax or email. It was giving him a headache. But that was soon pushed to one side as he digested what had actually transpired in the past few days, completely unnoticed by him.
"DO NOT WORRY, CROWLEY. YOUR NEGLIGANCE WILL NOT BE PUNISHED. WE WERE ALL UNDER IT."
"They came THAT close?"
"VERY MUCH SO."
"Well...." Crowley searched for how to respond. He would suggest sending the Other Side a fruit basket if such things could be done. Besides, he doubted either his side or the other would really appreciate the gesture. Instead, he asked the question he didn't really want the answer to. "How are they getting on down there?"
"WE ARE SHOWING THEM HOW MUCH WE APPRECIATED THEIR ATTEMPT AT FORSAKING ALL OF US."
"Ah. Well. That is to be expected, lord." Crowley tried in his best upbeat voice.
"WE HAVE SOME MATTERS FOR YOU TO ATTEND TO, CROWLEY."
The demon didn't even bother asking as the rest of the information crashed on in.
"HAVE A NICE TRIP, CROWLEY."
"Thank you, lord," answered the demon. The stereo system remained silent.
Crowley scowled. And after that, he walked around his apartment, having completely forgotten about disposing of the earlier plant. He let out a string of more colorful curses but they weren't his usual. He wasn't just angry this time or annoyed. There was something else mixed in this whole affair.
Shoving his sunglasses back over his eyes, the demon retrieved his leather jacket from the chair he had slung it over earlier and prepared to leave. He didn't make a plane reservation. He knew he'd have a seat.
As he prepared to leave, Crowley realized he probably would be gone for a couple of days. He also remembered that he had promised to meet Aziraphale later for an early dinner tonight. He'd have to call to cancel. But as he reached for the titanium looking phone that sat on his pristine desk, Crowley hesitated.
Aziraphale would ask why. He could just lie and say he had other things to do but knowing the angel, he'd see right through the cover up. Then again, it had been the angel's side that had cleaned up this whole mess and most likely that meant Aziraphale would know what had happened. That is, if the Metatron bothered to share the information. If Crowley remembered correctly, the Metatron was a bit of a prat when it came to being mutually informative like that.
But why shouldn't he just tell Aziraphale what he was doing? It wasn't like he was ordered specifically NOT to. And it wasn't as if he was doing anything that important. It was really work for an errand boy if one came right down to it. Just quick administrative stuff. Crowley had an idea that his past connections had landed him the pleasing job, anyway. So, why not just call up his counterpart and let him know?
It was then Crowley realized that it was because he didn't want to see Aziraphale at the moment. He didn't want the angel to offer to tag along or ask stupid questions like if things were okay. Redirecting his hand to reach for a pencil and paper, Crowley scribbled down a quick note. Rereading his message, the demon thought for a moment and then added another line to it.
Satisfied, the demon reached over to the side of his neatly made up desk and extracted a strip of tape. Stepping outside his apartment, Crowley closed the door and taped his message over the peephole. He estimated that after an hour or two of waiting for him at the restaurant, Aziraphale would come by his place and see the message. Hopefully, the angel would take the hint to not follow.
A-
Gone to Wisconsin. Will be back in a couple of days.
-C
PS: Don't water my plants. They are being punished.
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More will come soon.
