"I don't know, I swear!" Crowley protested, wincing as his back slammed into the wall behind him (brick is a particularly insolent building material, and remained stubbornly solid as he hit it, so it really did hurt). "Az, please, believe me, I didn't touch those people —"
"Believe you?" Aziraphale raged, and Crowley's stomach plummeted. He knew that voice, that look in his counterpart's eyes. Heavenly wrath was upon him. "Do you think an Agent of Heaven would fall for your serpent lies?"
He shuddered, grateful for the protection his sunglasses offered him from the intensity of Aziraphale's glare, fierce yet distant, as if it were seeing Crowley as something beyond Crowley: evil to be crushed, not a long-time business-associate-turned-something-like-a-friend. If looks could kill…
"So what will it be, serpent?" Aziraphale's voice resounded through the alley, ringing painfully in Crowley's ears like heavenly gongs. "Will you confess of your own accord, or must I smite an answer from you?"
The demon writhed, trying to slip away, and his wrists scraped painfully against the brick where Aziraphale had him pinned. "Az, I'm begging you — "
Suddenly, the alley flooded with ethereal light. Shit. A visitor.
Aziraphale whipped his head around to see the source of the glow, and Crowley took advantage of his distraction to slip from the angel's grasp. He scrambled behind a dumpster, hoping that would be enough to hide him from the Sight of whatever heavenly being had beamed down.
"Aziraphale." Crowley shuddered behind his dumpster; he recognized that reverberating voice.
"Speak, Gabriel. I listen."
"I trust you have heard on the news about a certain…disaster in downtown London by this time."
"Indeed, Gabriel, and I am already in the process of making the instigators pay—" Aziraphale began to say, while the voice emanating from the beam of light said,
"Heaven found this unfortunate incident necessary. We don't believe you need to know the details of why; simply have faith that it was ineffable."
Aziraphale's shoulders fell. Even though Crowley could not see the angel's eyes from this angle, he knew that the righteous fury had faded from them.
"You…you mean that…Heaven caused…" Aziraphale's voice was weak, defeated.
"Yes." Gabriel's voice said, a hint of annoyance in its tone. "As I said, ineffable. Anyhow, we need you to go to the scene of the event and clean things up. Feel free to assist survivors — those we needed dead, are."
"I-it will be done," Aziraphale replied hollowly.
"Good." The beam of light dissolved away, leaving the alley in shadow.
Crowley crawled out from behind his dumpster.
"Az, I'm — "
Aziraphale held up a hand to silence him. The angel's head was bowed, and Crowley got the feeling he was avoiding making eye contact.
"I apologize for…assuming, my dear boy. I'm sure you…understand."
"Of course," Crowley said, not bothering to keep the bitterness from his tone. "Catastrophe strikes and naturally it's going to be the demon's fault."
Aziraphale lifted his head at last, gaze meeting Crowley's. His deep brown eyes were brimming with tears.
"I must go now," the angel said. "Help the survivors…"
"Wait!" Crowley reached a hand to catch Aziraphale's arm as he turned to leave. "Angel…you don't need to go alone."
To the demon's relief, a small, exhausted smile broke over his counterpart's lips. "Oh?"
"Yep. Consider me a pseudo-guardian angel today." He squeezed Aziraphale's arm. "There will be plenty of people in need of some miracles over there, I'm sure."
"Thank you," Aziraphale said, sounding as much like an apology as a display of gratitude.
"Well, come on then," Crowley said, "let's go."