2012
It took more than a week for Ezra and Richard to be able to coordinate a meeting with their friends of mutual preference to gather together in London at the pub they agreed on. It was Oscar who was most reluctant, and it felt like a small victory when he finally agreed.
"Even if you don't like him in the way I think you will," Ezra was saying as he and Oscar approached the doors to the pub, "you will at least enjoy his company. And really, my dear, are you so opposed to having possibly another friend?"
Oscar sighed, "I'm here," he reminded Ezra. "I'm doing my part, alright? So, let's go meet these guys."
Ezra nodded, and opened the door for him, waving him inside.
Once within, he scanned the crowd and found Richard almost right away.
"He's right there," Ezra pointed out, looking up at Oscar.
Oscar nodded, hands in his pockets as he glanced around. "Lead on." He said, and Ezra huffed, heading toward the table.
Upon getting closer, he could better see the man who Richard brought with him.
David, at first glance, seemed rather plain. A medium brown hair, brown eyes, thin like…. No, he would not think of Anthony tonight. This was about David. David, who had a full facial hair, well trimmed, short, but thick looking. He might have looked rugged if he wasn't much bigger than a twig, figuratively speaking. Instead he was almost drab in his black jumper and plain denims.
Then he laughed at something Richard said, and in an instant David became rather lovely.
Ezra went up to the table, and while there was apprehension in David's face, there was warmth and friendliness in Richard's as he turned to Ezra.
He was about to say hello when Oscar beat Ezra to it.
"Hi," Oscar said to Richard, holding out his hand. "I'm Oscar."
Richard stared at Oscar for a moment, then glanced at Ezra. "Hi," Richard said to Oscar, blinking. "Um…."
"Richard," David answered for his friend, grinning. "And he's pleased to meet you."
"Yes," Richard said, taking Oscar's hand slowly. "Rather am, I think. Ezra failed to say… anything about your first impression."
"Rather good, then," Oscar smirked. "Shall I go top up your pint while I get my own, or…?"
"How about I go with you." Richard offered. "I happen to know the bartender on this evening, she's rather biased. Might go faster if I'm there."
Richard hopped down from his high top chair and led Oscar to the bar, instantly going into conversation and seeming to forget the rest of the world.
"And you must be the man who came to dash my dreams." David said as he turned to Ezra, his tone oddly friendly despite his words.
Ezra found himself blushing. "Ezra," He introduced himself. "I do apologize for hurting you."
David shrugged. "Was bound to happen. Might as well have a seat, Ezra. They may not be coming back for a while, and if they do, I doubt they'll have much interest in us."
Ezra nodded, then climbed up on the chair beside David, glancing at him nervously.
David reached across the table to pull Richard's barely touched pint glass over toward Ezra. "Might as well have it, he's not coming back. At least not for that one."
"Oh, well, thank you. I think."
David smirked in a self-deprecating way. "At least this way I could say I bought someone a drink."
"Oh, well then." Ezra flashed a smile, glancing at the bar to see Oscar and Richard more engaged in conversation with each other than trying to flag down Richard's friend. "So, what is it you do?" He asked the bearded bloke before taking a small sip of the pint.
"I'm a Maths teacher." He replied, taking a sip of his own drink. "You?"
"English teacher," Ezra replied. "Though I'm a little behind compared to some. I'm only in my second year, and have only been covering leaves so far."
"Not here in London?"
"No, I don't live in the city." Ezra shook his head. "Are you saying I maybe should?"
David shrugged, gave a bit of a grin. "I do know of a few spots that may be looking for a teacher come next year. Have you considered it? Moving here?"
"London," Ezra said, stretched out beside Anthony as they laid out on a blanket in the backyard of his house, staring up at the sky.
"Isn't that a bit obvious?"
"Maybe? I could see you in London." Ezra said, turning his head slightly, smiling a little.
"Big house. No, a big flat right in the center of it all. See Big Ben out my front window."
Ezra giggled. "Suppose one day you could afford that."
"You might, too." Anthony insisted.
"No," Ezra lied, because it was too painful to get into the truth at the moment. The memory seemed to have come from nowhere, almost so strong that he could nearly smell the grass they'd laid on, hear the ruckus of his sister and Dierdre. "No, never once. I lived here when I was a child, and I don't remember a terrible amount from then, but I don't remember it ever feeling like home." He added on a little bit of truth, taking away from the bad taste the previous words brought.
"Ah," David nodded. "Well, maybe it could. One day."
"Perhaps." Ezra agreed. "Although I must admit that the pay would have to be better than what I'm earning now."
David gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Well, mate, it likely won't be much better." He took a drink, eyeing Richard and Oscar. Ezra glanced over, and found they were deep in conversation, essentially sitting at the bar together.
"I should hate you," David said, earning Ezra's attention. His face was stoic, but there was a glimmer in his eye that said he wasn't out to be unkind. "Bringing along a man like that."
"Does it help in any way to know that man once asked me to marry him, and I declined?" Ezra asked before taking another drink.
David's lips twitched ever so slightly, "Maybe a little." He conceded. "But only a very, very little. You seem much more of a catch than him. Least you seem to have personality. I couldn't blame Richard if he'd fallen that hard so quickly for a man with personality."
Ezra pursed his lips briefly. "That might have been the most polite thing I'd ever heard about my personal style." He said with a smirk. "Personality, indeed."
"You'd probably be far too handsome if you dressed conventionally." David retorted with a shrug.
Ezra was quite at a loss for words, so after a moment, he giggled. "I do believe you're flirting with me." He said in mild disbelief.
"I'm trying," David replied with one of those smiles that made him so very lovely.
It reminded Ezra, briefly, of someone else who's smile made them lovely. But he had always been lovely. So, he pushed the thought aside, and went after what was in front of him.
"I'm quite enjoying it," Ezra admitted. "I'm probably not the best at the return, so you'll have to forgive me my follies in that regard. But I'll certainly make an attempt at it."
"The ol' college try?" David teased.
"Quite right," Ezra countered, his grin only growing.
"Hey, sunshine!"
Gabriel's voice had him stopped short, and he met David's eye, wondering if maybe he'd only imagined it.
"Sunshine?" David questioned as Gabriel slipped into one of the seats next to Ezra.
"I'm not sure where he got that from." Ezra replied.
As Gabriel opened his mouth, David spoke.
"No, I can see it," He said, eyes flickering over Ezra's face. "When you smiled, before. Like having the whole bloody sun shining on you. Or a heavenly host of angels."
Ezra's heart lunged in his throat, and his smile faltered.
"Sorry, did I…?" David asked, having noticed.
"There was this guy," Gabriel said as he slipped his arm around Ezra's shoulders, not noticing or not caring how Ezra tried to discreetly shrug off the possessive hold. "He used to call him angel all the time. But the asshole just tossed this one aside, didn't even care how he hurt him."
"Gabriel, that wasn't quite how it happened." Ezra said as he shifted a bit, making it just uncomfortable enough for Gabriel's reach that he had to drop his arm. Ezra then looked to a confused and yet intrigued David. "My dearest friend from when I was younger… he and I … there were words, it's all been forgiven, but we haven't spoken in a few years. He used to call me angel."
"Oh, I'm sorry." David said genuinely.
"It's alright, there is no possible way you could have known." Ezra rushed to say, reaching across the table and putting his hand on David's in reassurance.
David glanced down at it, his lip curling up. He lifted his thumb and brushed the side of Ezra's hand. "Well, he had it right." He said before meeting Ezra's eye again. "Sounds like maybe we might have even more in common than simply being teachers."
"Oh?" Ezra asked, the heaviness of before lifting.
"Would you like to get dinner with me sometime so we can find out?" David asked.
"Actually-" Gabriel started in a rush.
"I would be delighted." Ezra replied emphatically. "You know, there was a delightful little spot around here, or at least it looked so, when I had come to meet Richard."
"Oh, the place, looks French?" David asked, moving his hand out from beneath Ezra's to gesture.
"Yes!" Ezra said.
"Oh, fantastic place. Excellent crepes."
Ezra chuckled. "Well then, perhaps over the crepes I can tell you a tale that started with them and ended with a jail cell."
"I'd like that." David grinned, then glanced at Oscar and Richard. "Should I see if they intend to join us while I get one for your friend?"
Ezra had almost forgotten Gabriel was there. He nodded, humming his agreement, and once David was up and away from the table, he turned to Gabriel.
The poor man looked absolutely baffled, like he wasn't sure if what happened had in fact taken place, or whether or not this was a dream, and any moment he would discover he wasn't wearing any pants.
Or maybe that was a bit of what Ezra was feeling, surprised to find himself so willing to open up to someone not Eliza for the first time in years.
"Sorry," Ezra said sheepishly. "I must admit I had come with the intention of introducing you to a couple of people, but…."
"Did… did you really just agree to a date with that guy?" Gabriel asked.
"Yes, and I know it was terribly rude of me." Ezra went to apologize.
" That guy?" Gabriel asked again, throwing a thumb in the direction David went off in. "Seriously?"
Ezra shrugged. "He's rather charming. And quite handsome, if I do say."
Gabriel stared a moment, then shook his head, picking up Ezra's pint (which was originally Richard's) and downed it.
~C~
Crowley liked working for the Dowlings for the most part.
The garden was massive, and while he was often sweaty and exhausted by the end of the day, he loved every second of it. He loved making the plants thrive, he loved making the garden the best it's looked in decades (butler's words, multiple times in the months since Crowley came on staff). He liked his little house tucked into the corner of the estate, separate from the rest of the staff, which was feeling more like his place than his flat in London ever did.
But, there were things he didn't like about it. He didn't like how lonely it could get, for one. He was able to call or text his friends (Bea, essentially just Bea) everyday, or his mom or Tony if he was desperate. Chrissy on occasion, but she was just young enough to feel too young compared to Crowley, and he remembered what university was like in those first years. He could leave the estate, but they were quite a stretch away from anything but a little village about forty-five minutes away, and an American airbase where they weren't supposed to go anyway. So, getting away had to be an all day thing if he wanted to go anywhere exciting, and most weekends when he was off he slept most of it.
There was also TJ.
Thaddeus Dowling the third, or TJ, was a hellion.
He was loud. He was obnoxious. He was awfully full of himself for a seven year old.
He reminded Crowley a bit of a certain purple-eyed bloke in mini form. Except, of course, he was a miniature version of Thaddeus Dowling the second, who was never, ever there.
TJ was also the reason that Crowley stopped going by AJ to everyone who didn't already know him, or who he didn't particularly like. It had the added bonus of having people with any vague connection to London finances to ask if he was James' boy. Which, eventually, would grate on James when he got wind of it.
TJ was one of those he didn't particularly like, which Crowley knew was an awful thought to have about a child. Still, it was the truth.
TJ would never admit he was the one who ruined various flower beds, or broke a few trees. His nanny didn't seem to care. Nor did his teachers. Or anyone, really, except his mother who had just made it a fireable offense for any adult to allow TJ outside the non-designated play area, well away from Crowley's plants, trees, and house.
"So, hopefully you won't be replanting these a sixth time," Harriet said from the other side of the flower bed Crowley was fixing up.
"Thanks, Mrs Dowling." He replied as he pushed a little soil around the base of some tulips.
"Harriet, please." She insisted for… admittedly, Crowley lost track how many times she'd said that.
"Harriet," he conceded.
"If it helps, very good chance that TJ will be off to a boarding school next year." She said as she looked over her shoulder, seeing who was around, who was listening. Secret service didn't follow her around so much now that they were used to him, but there was always someone hovering twenty or so feet away. "I've been trying to tell Thad for a couple years now that he'd outgrown tutors. And if they are going to keep us here indefinitely…."
"Boarding school, though?" Crowley asked in spite of himself. It was the first time he had a conversation with anyone even close to his own age in weeks. Men in black weren't very chatty, and not all of the staff in the house thought him worth of conversation. "Even I didn't go to boarding school, and I was from one of those families that would send their kids off."
"Really?" Harriet asked, crossing her arms.
"Wealthy father in finances, always in London. Wealthy mother in medicine, always in London. Hell, still surprises me they let me go to public school and didn't ship me off."
"Well," Harriet said, looking over her shoulder again, gaze lingering on something or someone a moment before she continued, "Can't exactly send him to school in the village. Boarding school is as close as I'm going to get to giving him any sort of normal life."
"And you wouldn't mind having him not around most of the year," Crowley smirked as he planted another bunch.
Harriet leaned toward him, "Am I that obvious?"
"No," Crowley lied obviously, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am," He said with a wink, chuckling as she blushed furiously.
Harriet giggled, straightening up and snorting a bit before hiding her face behind her hands, shaking her head. "Right, well, I'm going now." She said without moving. "Let you fix my poor plants."
" Your poor plants?" He asked with mock offense, rearing back slightly to look at her agape. He imagined, if he didn't have his contacts in, that it might look a bit more comical. Like a very surprised snake.
"Fine," Harriet conceded. "America's plants."
"On British soil." Crowley countered.
"Which is why we hired a British gardener.," Harriet teased before turning and heading back to the house.
Crowley watched her for a moment, smiling at the thrill of the banter. Something he hadn't really had since….
No. It's been three years. Three years, he had to let it go. Let him go.
And he would.
Eventually.
Maybe.
~A~
The night was quiet, and silver light from the moon came through the window to spill over them. Sheets were haphazardly tossed over their waists, not like modesty was necessary at this point. But it was the thing, wasn't it? Or at least Ezra thought it should be.
Their breaths were caught, but he and David were still laying side by side, staring at the ceiling in silence. Comfortable silence, though. Their fingers were loosely entwined between them, thumbs lightly caressing one another.
"Do," David spoke for the first time in a while, and Ezra looked toward him, turning his head only slightly. David frowned ever so slightly before starting again. "Do you ever realize that maybe there was something you should have said? Before things… happen."
Ezra turned back to the ceiling. "Yes," he said to the stucco above him. "I have."
"It's nothing… nothing bad." David said reassuringly. "I'm not about to tell you maybe we should have taken more precautions, or anything."
Ezra hummed in understanding.
"It's just, well, to be honest? I'm … not really over Richard."
Ezra turned his head and studied the beautiful man beside him. The wonderful, smart, fun man who was a gentle, considerate lover (not that Ezra had much experience with that), and felt… nothing.
They'd been seeing each other for three months, and things had been going well, all things considered. They really only got together on weekends, and spent the rest of the week with sporadic texts or phone calls to make up for it. An hour or so ago, after a wonderful dinner filled with good conversation, followed by dessert and being pressed against David's flat's door, they'd fallen into bed for the first time.
It was everything Ezra thought it should be, except for one thing: it lacked love. It had been lust fueled, burning with excellent chemistry which ignited just the right amount of pleasure. It had scratched an it Ezra hadn't realized he had, and probably could have gone on ignoring, and he'd gladly do it again should David be amiable. But if he had hoped it would spark a deeper affection for the man, he'd have been disappointed.
It was a good thing the hope had been small.
"It's fine, I assure you." Ezra replied, taking David's hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles. "Some people are hard to let go of."
David hummed, turning to Ezra. "You're awfully understanding." He said. "I don't think most people would take well to being told such a thing after sex."
Ezra shrugged. "I would rather be told than have to wonder at it." He said, giving David's hand a squeeze before dropping it. "And I would be quite a hypocrite if I held such a thing over your head when there is a part of my heart still in mourning."
David frowned before rolling on to his side. He propped himself up on one arm, looking down at Ezra and studying him.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
"Terribly." Ezra agreed. "But, I figured if I hung on to something I never had, and never will, I'd be a fool."
"We'd be a pair of them." David agreed, chuckling a bit as Ezra cracked a grin. "Can I ask you something? Might be a bit weird considering we're naked."
Ezra tried not to smile. "Alright." He agreed.
David studied him a moment, kissing him quickly before asking, "Why did you never date Gabriel?"
"That is an odd question." Ezra mused, snatching David's free hand, playing with his fingers. He considered the answer, knowing where it was coming from. "I suppose I'm really not certain." He confessed. "Only, when I thought of the future, at any point since meeting him, I could never see him by my side. Not in that way. I had, once, believed maybe Oscar… but when he asked me to marry him it made me realize that simply loving someone wasn't quite enough. And I suppose I could say I love Gabriel to a degree, he is one of my dearest friends. But… not enough." He looked up and met David's eye. "I suppose it might be the same with Richard."
"Do you think you could love me?" David asked a little cheekily.
"I believe it's too early to say for sure, but if you keep doing that very particular thing you did," Ezra replied, earning a hearty laugh from David.
His head thrown back as he guffawed with raw honesty, smile bright and throat exposed, Ezra wanted to love him. He wanted to love this man so badly he nearly ached with it. But he could spark anything, not yet. Perhaps, in a few months, after he and his mother and Eliza went away, he'd find his heart will have grown fonder.
When David got himself a little under control, he laughed as he kissed the giggles quiet in Ezra using small little pecks to calm him down.
"Alright, then, Ezra. Tell me who you did love enough. Because I can tell, there was someone."
"There was," Ezra agreed. "And since I have already heard the whole tale involving Richard,"
"From both sides, probably." David inputted.
"Indeed," Ezra conceded. "Then allow me to spin my own tale of unrequited affection. Though, I must warn you, it ends far less happily than yours."
"Oh, a tragedy." David teased. "Always was a bit fond of those tales."
Ezra's heart ached a moment, but he grinned through it. "It begins on a November day when I was thirteen."
David settled in, and listened, touching and assuring as Ezra spun a tale that would serve to either bring them closer in mutual heartache, or farther from any chance of being anything real.
2013
~C~
"Harriet Dowling, how is the mistress of the manor?" Crowley asked as he spotted her lingering on the path not far ahead of him.
It had been a year since he started working on the Dowling estate, and he was enjoying it more each day.
For one, TJ was sent off to school in September, and was now only around shortly before and during holidays, and as well as summer break. He was still very much a hellion, but because he had more structure and rules, he was better about making sure not to break them. He still terrorized more of the staff than not, still thought himself the king of this ruddy patch of England, and Crowley was still sure he was the only child he'd ever met and disliked. Even TJ's friends were infinitely better than him.
For another, the Dowlings weren't around for the American holidays, usually flying out to wherever they came from originally (Harriet had told him a few times, but he could never recall). It meant that they were gone from some strange, arbitrary time near the end of November until after the new year, giving everyone on the estate an extended vacation should they choose. Which Crowley did. He did not go back to London, not for any more than the required days he was expected to be there by James.
Which brought him to another point: the Dowlings didn't rightly care what he looked like. Any in house staff was expected to look polished and dressed sharply. Crowley got away with long sleeved tees, worn jeans that looked too tight for any sort of manual labor, and having his hair what some might call impractically long. He'd have never guessed he had curled, but once it got past his shoulders, the waves in it started to twist. Harriet envied his hair, said so many many times when he had it loose and down. TJ tried to say he looked like the princess in Brave , but it wasn't anywhere near that bushy.
They also didn't seem to care about whether or not he wore his colored contacts.
Alright, correction, Harriet didn't seem to care. Thaddeus was around so little, he'd barely remembered meeting Crowley to hire him. Harriet, on the other hand, was almost always on the estate. She would fly out to this thing or that when needed as the ambassador's wife, but this was her base, and where she would spend most of her time.
When she first discovered his natural eyes, it had been in an early morning pop down to his cottage at the back of the estate. It was a Saturday, technically his day off, but there had been a wicked storm the night before, and a tree had come down near where TJ played, and she was worried. He'd answered the door, mostly still asleep, forgetting sunglasses, contacts, and a shirt. Harriet's yelp woke him up, and after a lot of uncomfortable questions she let it go.
Still stared a lot, though, so Crowley got in the habit of carrying his sunglasses around in case she or people were floating around. At least he fit in to a degree, what with the suits about.
"Afternoon, AJ," Harriet greeted, turning toward him with a grin. "How was your week?"
"Busy. You've got a new hedge thing over there," He pointed out to the sitting area he worked on at Thaddeus' request. "Hear you'll be hosting."
Harriet groaned. "Not looking forward to that. Technically the former president and his wife are meant to be visiting someone else, but Thad and he are buddies, so guess where they're staying."
"Yeah, I was told to take a hike for those few days."
"What?" Harriet asked, looking terribly put out. "Why?"
Crowley shrugged. "Who wants the gardener hanging about?"
"I want the gardener hanging about." Harriet retorted. "You're the only decent conversation around here. Even if you don't know what football is." She said as she turned and they fell into step with each other.
"Oh, no, no. You do not watch football. You watch… rugby with the wrong ball and the wrong rules."
Harriet laughed, and Crowley grinned.
"We agreed to disagree." She reminded him, poking him in the ribs.
"You brought it up," He argued. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Thought you'd be back up in the house ordering about the poor souls in there in preparation."
"What, like Netherfield is let at last?" She smirked.
"I knew I should have never watched that movie with you. You have no taste." He said with a scowl he didn't mean.
"You're the one who wanted to watch it." Harriet reminded him. "Why, anyway? You looked like you were pained the whole time."
"It has… sentimental value. Watched it with someone I really cared about before. And, and , you said you've never seen it."
"Yeah, and?" She countered, slowing as Crowley stepped off the path to the flower bed that needed tending to.
He got down on his knees, examining the plants. "'S a classic, isn't it? 'Sides, you had me watching that… that monstrosity with a poor depiction of Scotland."
Harriet scoffed and shook her head. "You have no taste." She taunted.
"I have brilliant taste," Crowley countered. "And you know it."
"We on for tonight, then?" She asked.
"Depends." He said carefully. "What are we watching?"
"It's your night to pick." Harriet replied.
"Oh, well then, yes. We're on." He said with a toothy grin.
"I'm going to fire you." She said with a smile as she shook her head again and started walking away.
"No one will ever get your hydrangeas to bloom like me, and we both know it. You need me, Harriet." He raised his voice, laughing when she flashed him the middle finger and a grin over her shoulder.
He grinned when she was gone, and then forced himself to sober.
She's not him. She's not even close to him . Crowley reminded himself.
"I'm so going to fire you," Harriet said softly near his ear, and he smirked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," He said casually over his shoulder, his eyes darting down a moment where her cleavage was protruding a touch too much.
Harriet righted herself quickly, glancing around at the crowd that was essentially ignoring her, and took the empty seat next to Crowley in corner of the outdoor seating area set up for the big to-do with a bunch of American politicians Crowley knew nothing about.
He crashed the party because he could, and no one would be the wiser. He used his blue contacts, changing his eye color enough that he could play stupid with Thad if he had bothered to pay any real attention to anyone aside from himself and the president. With Crowley's hair smartly tied at the nape of his neck, and an all black suit sharply tailored, he blended in fairly effortlessly. The secret service might have realized who he was, but they wouldn't say anything now if they were going to at all.
So, Crowley sipped the expensive champagne they were handing out, nibbled on little hors d'oeuvres he snatched a plate of, and simply enjoyed the circus.
"What if someone noticed you?" She asked quietly, trying to adjust the plunging neckline of her dress as discreetly as she could.
"Like who?" Crowley asked, amused.
"Wait staff?"
"Frank's got a bottle or two of the good stuff tucked away for when this lot is too drunk to notice the difference. Think he's gonna rat me out for sitting here with a glass and a nibble?"
Harriet seemed to lose her fight then, and slumped. "Think they have an extra one I could take myself?"
"You're not loving all this?" Crowley asked as he gestured to the room at large.
"I never wanted this," Harriet replies. "I wanted to go into law. I was working my way through it when I wound up pregnant."
"So you married Thad." Crowley nodded.
Harriet scoffed. "I was already married to him. Married him right out of High School. But we weren't supposed to have kids for a few years. And then, well." She shrugged, sipping her near empty glass.
Crowley looked at her, took her in. He'd always thought he saw a little sadness in her eyes, in her smile. She was one of those people who were pretty, but could have been beautiful if they were happy.
Someone laughed, loud and obnoxious, and Harriet sneered.
"That man," She said, pointing to the former president as he and Thad chatted and laughed some more. "That man is the reason why I was alone when I had TJ. Because apparently childbirth is the 'single most joyful experience a couple could share' except when the president of the united states needs you for something. I was twenty-one years old, alone, scared, and my husband wasn't anywhere to be seen. I called, and was told to just… wait an hour or so."
"Sorry, why did you marry him?" Crowley asked, setting down his glass and turning toward her. "Seriously, why? I mean, right after school? What was the reason behind that?"
Harriet sighed, looking at her husband wistfully. "I don't know anymore." She said. "I was young and thought this was just one of those things I could check off a list, one that held everything for the perfect life. I didn't think I would mind his always being away, because I was supposed to be busy being a lawyer, or maybe something more. But…. I loved him - love him - but if I had known back then? Where I would be now? I don't know if I would have."
"It never turns out how we imagine, does it?" He asked, and Harriet turned to him, her eyes darting about his face. "Those dreams we have when we're young, they never turn out, do they?"
"No," Harriet agreed. "They don't."
Crowley watched her for a long time, seeing his loneliness in Harriet, and wishing very strongly he didn't. Almost in sync, they each took a drink of champagne, a long one, and then set down their flutes.
"I'm going to go back to my cottage." He told her as he stood, straightening out his jacket before he re-fastened the button. "Goodnight, Harriet."
He turned and walked away, not saying anything to anyone else, and no one paying him any attention. If they noticed him leave the party via the path to the Gardener's cottage, he was sure Harriet would cover for him.
At least, he was sure she would if he wasn't very, very certain that it was her heels on the cobblestone he heard following him into the dark of the night.