Disclaimer: I have it somewhere… I think I left it on the thing. You know; that thing on the thing next to the thing with the thing in it? Yeah, it's definitely there.

A/N: I realise that I lot of times, I have made excuses for my work. But I don't think I will this time. It's not that it's perfect… or that I myself wouldn't find flaws in it. It's just that I'd rather let it stand on its own. I apologize for making presumptions in the past, and invite any reader to make up their own mind.

It isn't exactly a birthday chapter, Saucy, but you did want me to update so Tadah!

Yes, I realize this chapter is shorter than the last one… but could you keep it on the DL?

(I wouldn't want this chapter to get a complex.)

Merci,

Sike

Crowley…

I'm awake again, not that I feel any better for it. My head feels like it's been scalped… Oh right, that jolly little drag down the road. The light in here is blinding, but it contains bizarre red patches to it.

Oh.

Oh bloody hell.

My situation becomes a bit clearer as I realise that the red patches are indeed blood that has run down my body and over my eyes. The extremely disorienting feeling I would normally connect to being hung over is due to the fact that I am hanging upside down by my ankles.

"Huh-grblfgnishhlppss" (It is rather difficult to speak through a broken jaw.)

Hey! What asshole broke my jaw?

I try to squirm out of the chains which suspend me from the… uh, I assume there's a ceiling in this place- but all I get for it is further rocking and swaying. This is doing nothing for my mounting nausea. A mortal would have had the grace to stay passed out in this situation.

But I'm not mortal so… hey, that's right. Why am I suffering? I'm an immortal. I can change my very reality with my mind. (Not to mention all the free beer I can get.)

All I have to do is assume. Assume to alter. Let's start with the basics.

My jaw is intact.

My jaw is intact.

My jaw is intact.

Myjawisintact!

Now!

Now be intact!

AHHH!

Jaw! Get intact already!

Hmm… this is a problem.

Tap-Tap-Tap-

Someone comes to stand in front of me. I try and look up to see his face, but my stiff neck violently rejects the idea. He has nice boots though… made out of fine leather. I haven't seen that kind leather since the Norman invasion.

The chain lifts up, bringing me slowly higher until I am face to face with the guy wearing the kick ass boots.

Ah, not that I can describe him in any way. There's some sort of fierce energy around him that makes looking at him like staring into the sun. It burns, and it might make you go blind.

"Mmmrphmm…." I say, before someone has the decency to repair my jaw.

"Ow, could you turn that off?"

"No way, it's one of the perks of my position."

"Well, do you have a pair of sunglasses on you?"

The being smiles at me.

"Oh, how long are you going to pretend to be calm, Crowley?"

"Right up until I get nervous, mate." The effect is spoiled by the noise bleed that I seem to be developing.

"You know, Crowley, I like your attitude."

"Am I supposed to know your name, too?"

"You can call me Stoph."

"Is that what your friends call you?"

"No."

"Alright, Stoph it is."

Lucifer…

The great column of fire has vanished, and the onlookers have all but gone, save for a few of the more curious.

Time has passed since I said his name, but neither of us have moved. His expression seems to be a mixture of relief and fear.

I can understand the fear part. I can still barely believe he's here. Will he try to take me back to hell? I don't think I could stand a conversation like that. If I push him away, he'll get angry. If I hurt him badly enough, he'll give up on me.

And then everybody can be miserable. Great.

I look to my left for an instant and find Aziraphale staring at me. There is a look of grim determination on his face. If he's blaming me for something, he's most likely right to do so.

"B.L.?" I say, hoping that he'll say something to thin this barrier between us.

His expression alters and he opens his mouth.

"ZZzzz rzzzzdd zzzbzzz thzzz cozzzz."

The buzzing is so bad I can't make out a single word. He looks down, frustrated.

He tries again.

"ZZZLuziferzzz zzrrrdzzz bekzzzz whenzzzz zzzszzndzzz zov zu zzzffrr."

He covers his face. Whatever it is he wants, it's hard for him to say. A good-bye, maybe? Is that all this is about?

Beelzebub…

I have never hated myself more than I do at this moment.

Did I think everything would be better once I found him?

Anxiety has such a tight hold on my throat that I can barely swallow, let alone form a sentence. I pull Lucifer to his feet and embrace him. He doesn't even hesitate to bring his arms around me. And I thought I would surprise him with my display of affection.

After a few moments he withdraws… the air between us is overwhelming. I feel weak and have to check myself to keep from reaching out for him.

"ZZzz don'zztt leavzze me zzz." The words tumble out, beyond my control.

Lucifer is shaking his head, looking miserable. What? I don't understand.

"Luzzifer zzzz… pleazzze zzzz."

"No, Beelzebub, I already chose. I have left you."

He's… but… My eyes are stinging and I'm suffocating under the pain.

"Zzzz!" I grab him by the shoulders, forcing him into a deep kiss. His body reciprocates immediately. A shudder passes through him as he lets his mouth open with mine. Oh father of lies… this is how you kiss someone you don't want?

In hell, everything is done in pantomime. Every pain more outrageous and every passion more heated and frantic than the next. At the top of the floor, where sinister intent is at its cruellest, the physicality of evil is left behind. Our minds held the flames; every ounce of energy was spent in cunning and manipulation.

We haven't kissed before. There wasn't room for spontaneous actions.

This is amazing. I am part of my body, instead being trapped within it. And the passion… it has such an open, honest taste to it that I'm almost afraid of it.

When Lucifer pushes me away, my face is wet with his tears.

Aziraphale…

"I can't… I can't!" Lucifer says breathlessly.

My thoughts are swirling around each other. They move so fast that I don't know how to respond.

An instant of pity for Beelzebub's misery.

My loneliness calling for Crowley.

Hate accusing Lucifer of stealing my lover.

Shame twisting before my uncharacteristic anger.

Sadness… complete unto itself.

"Zzzzz zzzz zzzz zz." The desperate, wavering tone makes up for the absence of words.

The hurt on Beelzebub's face has no effect on Lucifer's anger.

"I chose, I won't go back!" He turns the other way, taking two steps before he vanishes into thin air.

The clouds overhead have withered away. The sky is sunless, but the night has not yet dominated it. The wind has gone away,too, leaving humid air to stand on ceremony.

"ZZWhere hazzz zzzhe gonezzzz?" Beelzebub says. His eyes darken; the sign of anger starting to cover up his pain. The air around him is shimmering ever so slightly, like the dizzy air above an asphalt mirage.

"He'll find Crowley…" my voice sounds empty, "that's who he really loves, isn't it?"

Aah!

I barely get the chance to gasp before Beelzebub shoves me into the nearest building. He keeps me pinned, steadily tightening his grip on my neck.

Crowley…

"Oh my, that all looked rather intense, didn't it?" Says Stoph gleefully, waving away the image of my suffocating angel.

"He's going to kill him!" I shout, before I remember that he won't give a shit.

"I thought he was immortal…"

"You know what I mean, he'll be sent into a hell dimension!"

"Oh no!" Stoph cries in mock dismay. "We should tune in next week to see what happens, eh Crowley?"

He brings his face so close to mine that he nearly blinds me with his luminescence.

"Get that light out of my face, you wanker!" I spit at him, which doesn't really work upside down. I just barely miss spitting on my own forehead.

Stoph stands up straight, laughing. A dark archway has started to form behind him, similar to the one that I was dragged through in the first place.

"You know, I don't think I can wait. I'm so intrigued; I want to be involved in the action!"

The blinding white light starts to fade. As it gets dimmer, I can start to make out his features. Hey, he almost looks like…

Shit.

Things are about to get much worse.

When the glow is gone, Stoph does a little twirl and smiles at me.

"How do I look?"

He looks at me from over his dark sunglasses with golden, snake-like eyes beaming. The hair colour is exactly the right darkness. Needless to say, the devilishly attractive cheekbones and trademark grin are also precisely on par.

"Like me. You look exactly like me." I mutter bitterly.

"Very good!" Stoph coos at me like I'm a small child.

"Bloody, shagging, ass-wanker!" I shout, despite the fact that my insult makes no sense. "Don't you dare hurt him!"

"Which one?" Says my evil double, "Aziraphale or Lucifer?"

"I…"

"Too late! You hesitated! I'll decide for you." He turns to the archway, disappearing in its deep, grey smoke.

What did I just do?

Why did I falter? The answer should have jumped to my mouth immediately, shouldn't it?

If I was sure, it would be instinctual. Not to say that I'm uncertain, because I am.

Err- I'm not not uncertain… that is I am certain. No, uh-

Shut up brain!

Shit… Crowley this is not the time to get confused!

It's this entire blood flow problem that's messing me. Yes. If I could just stop the blood from rushing out of my nose, I would be thinking straight.

End of chap! Be kind and rewind…. err, review.

Hey! Have you all forgotten about Tibet?

Don't forget Tibet!

Liberté, égalité, fraternité!

-Sike