Notes:

Did I mention this fic was just supposed to be a sexy oneshot? As usual, I have no self-control. I had no outline for this, and I'm surprised it's as coherent as it is.

Other than the character herself being part of this plot, there is another point to Angelique. I won't say what it is until the end or if someone guesses it in the comments.

I am eternally grateful for all of the comments. I knew this story would inspire some outrage and I was afraid to publish. But this story was practice to get out of my comfort some and be fearless. So, thank you all SO much for the encouragement and support.

As always, this fic would be a complete disaster without m betas Azeran and Intergalactictwink! I LOVE YOU!

On with the drama!


It started off as a perfectly acceptable day. Aziraphale's melancholy only lasted roughly three hours the day before. Not bad, considering that he's been in his own personal Hell for the past two and a half months. Sometimes, with the proper distraction, he can go a few days without dipping into grief. Aziraphale thinks that today could even be one of those days, until the happy couple storm into his bookshop giggling like children.

Aziraphale closes his eyes and sighs. He slams his book shut. Well, there goes that.

He doesn't get depressed every time he sees them. In fact, as long as he sees one without the other or they stand well enough apart, he's fine, absolutely fine. Aziraphale has always been a master at compartmentalising. In one box, there is Crowley. Good old Crowley who he still drinks and dines alone with at least once a week. In the other box, is Angelique, who laughs at all his jokes–even if he doesn't know he's making one–and enjoys his disastrous magic tricks. Her curiosity is endless, and she is fascinated by everything, especially his personal stories of historical figures and places long since passed. Aziraphale can no longer deny it, and he no longer tries to; he enjoys her company.

As long as those two boxes don't overlap too much, Aziraphale can almost forget the two are intimate with each other in ways he never wants to think about, but ends up doing anyway.

Alas, the two lovers usually come as a pair, always as happy as clams, touching, kissing, making googly eyes, sniggering at their inside jokes, etc...

"Aziraphale!" Crowley exclaims. "Tonight's the night!"

Oh no.

"You shall not weasel your way out this time!" Angelique adds.

They stumble around the corner, hand in hand, smiling. Crowley points to him, then thumbs behind him. "Let's go!"

"Unfortunately, I have an appointment," Aziraphale replies primly with an arched brow, "with Oscar Wilde. He holds up his book and shrugs. "Rescheduling is not an option. He's a stickler like that."

Crowley groans, which has no effect on Aziraphale. Angelique lets go of Crowley and charges for the angel, landing on his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and shakes him. This does have an effect.

"You promised!"

Aziraphale is used to this spritely behaviour, but he still can't stop the blush that rushes to his cheeks at her brazenness. "I assure you, dear lady, I did no such thing."

He places the book down on the side table and stands, hoping to buck the woman off, but she manoeuvres quickly, wrapping her legs around him as well, clinging like a spider monkey.

"For Heaven's sake, Angelique! Must you?" Aziraphale tries to sound disapproving but comes up a bit short. It should annoy him, but no one has ever shown him such genuine physical affection, and he quite likes it actually. Maybe more than he should.

Right. Push that to the "never think about again" corner of my mind, thank you very much.

Angelique wriggles on him, trying to get a better purchase. "You are my prisoner until you agree to come along!"

Crowley is trying not to snigger and fails, which earns him a glare from the angel. "Crowley, remove your human at once before she ruins my favourite waistcoat."

"No!" Angelique barks, only tightening her hold.

"Better off ruined anyway," Crowley mutters.

Aziraphale rolls his eyes and purses his lips to hide a smirk. "Fine! But on one condition!"

"Oo. Conditions don't really work on that one, nope," says Crowley with a frown and shake of his head.

Aziraphale ignores him and announces his stipulation anyway. "It's only for tonight. I will not be dragged into this against my will again."

"Yes!" Angelique cries and begins peppering kisses to Aziraphale's cheek.

"And I'm only agreeing to this in the first place because you are insufferable, Angelique. Absolutely insufferable..." he trails off into chuckles as Angelique blows a raspberry on his neck. "I've agreed, small fiend! Release me!" He's trying to peel her off, but she's having too much fun to let go now. "Crowley!" He whines through a giggle because Angelique just tickled a sensitive area behind his ear.

"Op! An angel in distress!" Crowley stalks toward them and squeezes his arms between the pair's bellies, which makes the angel panic. Crowley gives a tug and fails to remove her. "Angel, short of surgical extraction, I dunno what," tug, "to," tug, "do!"

On the final pull, Aziraphale loses his balance, and they all topple to the ground with a shriek each. For a good minute, Aziraphale is crushed by both Angelique and Crowley. It's a comically compromising position with Angelique's face mashed into his and Crowley scrambling between his legs.

"Off! Off-off-off! " Aziraphale screeches. His face is entirely scarlet. The unmentionable dark corner of his mind suddenly spills over into the light as warmth pools in his belly. He mentally beats those thoughts back with an imaginary bat and scrambles to stand. "Of all the tomfoolery!" He admonishes in earnest this time while the two misfits cackle on the ground. "Can we just get this over with?" He huffs and marches to get his coat and doesn't wait for them to follow him out the door.


Aziraphale is livid. He feels like a total stooge, stupidly standing without a dance partner on the stupid studio floor with a stupid artificial smile on his face and trying not to make a fool of himself stupidly.

"Looks like we have an uneven number," Angelique declares to her class.

"I'll just sit this out," Aziraphale grins as he gives her a little wave goodbye.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Angelique rushes to Aziraphale and drags him toward Crowley. "You two can pair up."

Aziraphale is going to faint. "I-I-I-HA! Mmm-n- noooo," but Crowley has already swept in and taken one of Aziraphale's hands in his and has placed the other on his shoulder. When Crowley's free hand lands on his waist, Aziraphale's knees betray him and nearly send him crashing to the floor.

Crowley steadies him and grins wolfishly. "That's a bad sign, angel. We haven't even started yet."

"Oh, do be quiet!" Aziraphale snaps, wishing he had removed his waistcoat because it is suddenly stifling in this horrid place. He can't look at Crowley, and he's panicking in earnest now.

"Hey," Crowley squeezes his hand.

Aziraphale glances slightly upward and is taken aback by the fond expression on Crowley's face.

"It just so happens I'm pretty good at this salsa business. Just let me lead, and you'll be fine."

Too soon the music blares and Angelique is counting out loud with enthusiasm, barking out orders that make no sense to Aziraphale, but Crowley does actually seem to know what he's doing.

There's a series of moves that are simple enough. Crowley steps back with his feet in time with the music and Aziraphale can only step forward, but then the unthinkable happens. Crowley twirls Aziraphale and presses himself behind him.

Three things happen at once.

One, Aziraphale's lungs collapse entirely. He doesn't realise that it shouldn't matter since he doesn't technically need to breathe.

Two, he stomps on Crowley's left foot, unsure whether he did it accidentally or as some sort of defensive reflex.

Three, Angelique immediately and seamlessly takes over for Crowley while he curses and hops around like some kind of rabid kangaroo.

Aziraphale is too overwhelmed to yell out an apology. He's being pushed and pulled and spun. For a small woman who lives off beans on toast, she is quite strong.

"C'mon, Crowley! Suck it up and get back in here," she laugh-yells.

Crowley waits for an opening and takes Aziraphale's hand in his while Angelique dances around and in between them. Crowley leads them both, sometimes holding one of their hands in each of his at once. Even if he does stumble a bit a few times, he's actually managing quite well. The music stirs something fiery within Aziraphale that he hasn't felt since trying to save the world. Aziraphale feels energised, he feels enthusiastic, he feels elatedly impetuous!

Crowley and Angelique are smiling radiantly and laughing and, damn it all, Aziraphale is laughing too. This is... this is...

Fun!

The song ends too soon. Crowley spins Angelique around and dips her quickly, crushing his mouth to hers and ending his kiss with a quick swipe of his tongue. Aziraphale is breathless and still laughing when Angelique cheers and plants a passionate closemouthed kiss right on Aziraphale's lips. It was just a fraction of a moment, but in his elation, Aziraphale had pushed into it with puckered lips. And then…

There's a jolt to his heart, like a blinding lightning strike, of love and warmth that leaves him dizzy and with an urge to shed tears of joy. Completely involuntarily, the angel's closed eyes moisten and he smiles wide. He's fit to fly.

Angelique pulls back with bright, happy eyes, then claps her hands and congratulates the class like nothing had happened.

It takes a moment, but a moment is all it takes, for Aziraphale's anxiety to rush through his corporation at the same time the feeling of love and happiness is sucked right back out of him as suddenly as it had come.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and the whole choir of angels! He thinks with sudden dread. What the blazes was that?! Aziraphale turns to Crowley, expecting the entire night to be ruined, but Crowley is already dragging him into position again, smiling wide.

"Fun, isn't it angel?!" Crowley yells over the commotion.

Aziraphale is very confused, but he manages to smile back and nod.

Maybe Crowley didn't see… maybe it was nothing.

The music starts up again, playing over Aziraphale's cosmic existential crisis and, impossible as it may seem, he enjoys the rest of the evening.


Notes:

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