"Your friends giving you a hard time, love?" The man inquired, cocking a brow as the dark-haired young woman set down the drink she had been carrying on the surface of the table, and regarding her with an expression that was nothing short of curious while he waited for her reply. In truth, he was more than a little bit surprised to find her in a place like this, when every single reaction she had given him so far was indicative of a far more reserved persona than the usual sort that frequented a bar known for bawdy parties, and waitresses that more often than not went home with the patrons they served. In response to his inquiry, it seemed that the flush upon her cheeks had only deepened, though she still managed to give him a tentative smile in spite of that. And suddenly, the idea of what had drawn her to Aziraphale's bookshop, and persuaded the angel to take her under his wing, so to speak, all became abundantly clear. They were remarkably similar, he thought, with a shy exterior that would fool nearly everyone into believing that they would never find an occasion to be anything other than docile.
Of course, Crowley knew better than anyone that such a characteristic could, more often than not, prove to their advantage, should anyone provoke them, and witness firsthand the exact level of ferocity that no one would ever see coming…
"Not—not really. Just a little good-natured teasing," The girl admitted, one shoulder lifting in a shrug as she shifted slightly on her feet, and wet her lips with her tongue before elaborating further, "Apparently they're a bit intrigued by—well—you."
"Really. Imagine that."
"I know. I tried telling them they really shouldn't stare."
"And yet they still are," Crowley surmised, tilting his head to the side just a bit to see the individuals in question, and suppressing his own amusement at how they barely even attempted to hide their curiosity over what their newest colleague appeared to have gotten herself into, "Could always give them a show, if you wanted."
"A—what?"
"A show. Make it worth their while, so to speak."
"And how—how exactly would we do that?"
"Up to you, really. M'not in the practice of pushing women into situations they don't want."
"That's good—good to know, I suppose," Fiona stated, biting her lower lip in a failed attempt at keeping the warmth in her cheeks at bay, and glancing down at the table top so that she could gather her nerves after they had so suddenly gone haywire. Truthfully, she was surprised at how simple it seemed to talk to this man, particularly as she had never been one to feel at ease with practical strangers ever before. But even in the face of her embarrassment over his apparent teasing, Fiona found that she was not nearly as out of sorts as she might have been by spending so much time under the man's attention, her brow furrowing just a bit as she recognized the fact that her nerves were not even remotely from apprehension, but something else, entirely.
Interest…
"Can I—can I get you anything else?" She went on, silently kicking herself for allowing her shock over how this man seemed to captivate her attention far more than he truly should have been able to get the better of her, forcing her to seek escape when all that she really wanted to do was stay precisely where she was. In truth, she hated how she recoiled from conversation, as though some instinctive part of her was all but determined to lump him in with every other man she had occasion to know and distrust, to date. But even with that regret coiling in her stomach, Fiona was almost incapable of resisting the urge to take a step back, her teeth once again digging into her lower lip as she registered the man's curious expression before he managed a slight shake of the head, and began to reply.
"Nothing at all, pet. Just answer me one question, would you?"
"O—okay. What's the question?"
"Exactly what did your friends over there want you to do when you came back over to my table?"
"They—they wanted me to get your name," Fiona admitted, forcing herself to meet the man's shaded gaze head-on in hopes that she would be able to discern his reaction to the confession more accurately than she would have been if she relied on the tone of his reply, alone. She would have been lying had she tried to pretend that she was not liable to become completely lost in her investigation of his features alone, something that she highly suspected he already knew, regardless of how careful she had been in her observation of him thus far. But before she could become too enamored by the unbelievably sharp angles of his jawline, or the way in which his wealth of red hair caught the dim lighting in the interior of the bar as it fell to just barely graze against his shoulders, Fiona found herself brought back to the present by the sound of his reply to her inquiry, her posture freezing in place as she took in the lazy smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth before he spoke.
"Well that's easy, love. Anthony."
"That's—that's it?"
"That's all you get for now," The man clarified, leaning back against the chair he occupied, and regarding the young woman stood before him with an expression that was nothing if not unreadable for a moment, before going on, "Anything more, and your friends have to prove they're worth the trouble."
"Fair enough," Fiona remarked, forcing a smile to her own lips as she took another step back, her mind all but caught up in pondering the meaning behind the man's response, such that she very nearly bumped into another patron making his way to the restroom behind her as a result. She could not entirely place why the act of preparing to leave his table had rendered her determined to do anything and everything she could to think of a reason to stay put. And although she knew it was foolish, given that the likelihood of this man feeling anything even remotely similar as it pertained to her presence was all but non-existent, Fiona found that she was sparing one final glance at her lone table's occupant, a slow breath escaping her lungs before she gave him the smallest shreds of an excuse to call her back to his side once again, if he so chose.
"Feel free to flag me down if—if you change your mind about needing anything else. I—I'm here all night."
"Will do, pet. Will do."
Smiling a bit at the reassurance, however slim it may have been in truth, Fiona managed one more faint nod for the man's benefit before she was turning on a heel and heading back towards the bar, her eyes widening as she realized that Sydney and Felix appeared to have been watching her avidly the entire time she had been away. Of course, she knew they would expect nothing less than a full report, given their apparent interest in her reaction to her first customer as an employee at Sal's bar. And although she would have been a fool to pretend she was not at least a little bit reluctant to share the experience with anyone else, limited as it may have been, Fiona found that she was also more than a little grateful that she had someone who cared about it one way or another, as well.
After being on her own for so long, camaraderie was certainly a welcome change.
…
"Did either of you happen to see that man's arse as he walked out of here?" Felix inquired, busying himself with the task of wiping down the bar while Sydney and Fiona took care of gathering up any stray glasses or plates remaining on the tables after closing time to bring them in back for a wash, "I never thought I would find a man that could rival my own signature strut—"
"That's because you're unprofessionally biased about that strut, Felix," Sydney quipped, chucking the rag she had been using to tidy up a few of the tables towards the bartender, and laughing at his affronted expression when the rag hit him square in the face, "But yes, we did see it. Didn't we, Fiona?"
"I wasn't—I wasn't exactly paying attention."
"Right. And I can smell the lie in that statement from a mile away."
"I wasn't!" Fiona protested, unable to resist the soft laugh that broke free in response to the teasing she was receiving from her coworkers, and shifting the tray she carried to one hand so that she could snag an empty beer bottle from a table adjacent to the bar, "I was working."
"Sure you were, love. Keep telling yourself that," Felix joked, grinning openly at Fiona's obviously quirked brow, and lobbing the rag that had smacked him in the face towards the bucket of soapy water he kept beneath the counter of the bar, "I'm going to my grave saying you were ogling him, whether you admit to it or not."
"Keep tormenting her, and you may be going to that grave sooner rather than later, Felix. You know what they say—"
"It's the quiet ones you've always got to watch out for?"
"I'm not that quiet," Fiona interjected, aware of the skeptical expression that passed between her two coworkers, and choosing to ignore it in favor of ducking into the back room to rid herself of the collected glassware in her arms before going on, "Well, I'm not."
"Certainly seems like you are to me. What do you think, Syd?"
"Methinks she doth protest too much."
"Well if I'd known the two of you were going to gang up on me from day one, I might have questioned myself over taking this job."
"No, you wouldn't have," Sydney countered, placing her own tray on a table she had just cleaned, and stepping forward to loop her arm through Fiona's to pull the young woman closer to her side, "You already love us too much to believe that."
"What gives you that idea?"
"Let's just call it a woman's intuition."
"Easy on the hints at sexism, ladies. I'll have you both know I had the same suspicions, myself, and I am most certainly not a woman," Felix warned, tossing his towel into the same bucket beneath the bar, and stooping to pick the object up by its handle to carry it to the back room for dumping in the sink, "Though I am really good at reading them."
"Don't you listen to him, Fiona. He's just trying to save his ego since we've clearly found someone a bit slinkier than he is."
"I heard that!"
"You were meant to!" Sydney retorted, watching Felix's retreating frame with a smile gracing her lips, and turning back towards Fiona as she decided to try for a different tactic when it came to obtaining details about the bar's enigmatic new client, "So—for a girl who's more than a little reserved, our mutual friend seemed to have something of an effect on you."
"Is this more of the—intuition—you mentioned, then?"
"It may be."
"So, you wouldn't be willing to consider that it may be—off?" Fiona suggested, regarding Sydney as cautiously as she dared, even in spite of the fact that she knew her newfound friend was eyeing her own reactions just as carefully in return. In truth, the idea of the curiosity that Sydney seemed to feel was not as unnerving as Fiona thought it should have been, given her relative lack of exposure to anyone that had ever made such a showing seem genuine in the past. But that fact notwithstanding, she was still uncertain of her ability to endure more good-natured teasing than she already had—something that Sydney seemed to pick up on if the gentle smile that took over her features was any indication in time with the gentle squeeze that she gave to Fiona's arm before she replied.
"It can be if you really want it to."
"Maybe I do. For—for now."
"Okay. Consider it done," Sydney agreed, turning her head just a bit as Felix came back from the kitchen area, empty bucket in hand, and addressing him just as he had been opening his mouth, likely for another comment about their new patron and his alluring nature, "And you—behave yourself."
"What? I am the epitome of well-behaved," The bartender pouted, lifting one hand to make a mime of a halo above his head, only to drop that hand back to his side as the disbelieving glances on both his companion's faces became far too obvious to ignore, "Okay, maybe I'm only well-behaved on Sundays."
"You're going to behave yourself on more than just Sundays where Mister Tall, Sexy and Mysterious is concerned, Felix. From where I'm standing, looks like Fiona, here, has first dibs."
"Dibs? I don't—I never said I wanted dibs—" Fiona began, the flush upon her cheeks renewing itself with a vengeance, despite the fact that it had only just managed to disappear, "I never said that."
"You didn't have to, love," Sydney put in, removing her arm from its place looped through Fiona's own, in favor of slinging it around her shoulders instead, and drawing the new hire closer towards Felix so that she could do the same to him, "Felix and I thought of it all on our own."
"Something tells me I don't have much of a shot at changing your minds," Fiona mused, glancing between Sydney, and Felix, and releasing an amused sigh as she realized they had almost immediately nodded their heads in confirmation of her spoken suspicion, "I thought as much."
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm only going to be a tiny pain in the arse about this, so there's really nothing to fret about."
"And that means, of course, that he's going to be a rather large pain in the arse," Sydney clarified, dragging her two companions towards the door of the bar, only pausing for long enough to manage a curt nod for their boss, where he sat leafing through a newspaper at a table beside the door, "We're headed out, Sal. Our girl, here, did great on her first night."
"Never doubted that she would. Do me a favor and see to it that you two don't scare her away for me, will ya? Her new friend from a bit ago left a hefty tip, and I'm not about to turn away that kind of income if I can help it."
"Sure thing, Sal. Night."
"Yeah, yeah. See all of ya later on."
In lieu of any form of reply, Sydney occupied herself with the task of steering Fiona and Felix out of the door, the steady clunk it made behind them causing her to breathe a sigh of relief despite the questioning gaze that lingered upon Fiona's face in response to the news that had just been disclosed. It was odd, she thought, how quickly she had taken to this new girl, where she had never felt such an instinctive need to watch over any of Sal's other girls when they first came on the job in the past. But something about this particular girl, as out of place as she was in their current line of work, had seemed endearing almost from the start, and so Sydney allowed herself the small liberty of a half-smile as Fiona shivered just a bit in the chill of the night air, her breath gusting out in little clouds of steam as she gave voice to the question Sydney had known would come all along.
"What does he mean—left a hefty tip?"
"He means the bloke clearly enjoyed your service," Felix explained, aware of the mystified expression that had taken over their new companion's features, and endeavoring to finish his explanation with a bemused smile upon his lips, "If I were you, lovely, I would very much expect to be seeing him again."
Though she would never have admitted to such a thing out loud, the thought did make Fiona smile, her hand coming up to conceal it under the guise of brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face as she moved to follow her two companions as they headed off down the street.
She would have been a liar to pretend that the prospect of seeing the man for a second time did not set her heart to pounding, and fill her with a strangely fervent hope that she would be able to summon a more successful conversation the next time around.
…
Crowley followed along after the trio departing the bar from the opposite side of the street, both hands stowed part way inside his trouser pockets as he sauntered down the sidewalk as though he had not a care in the world. Though he was almost loathe to admit to such a thing, the demon was still more than a little startled that he had found the girl at all, as it was only a stroke of pure luck that he had surmised who she was, in the first place. But now that he did have conclusive proof that the young girl he had saved all those years ago was, in fact, the very same young woman Aziraphale had employed, he would have been a fool to pretend he was not all but determined to find out more about her…
There was something more to the girl than met the eye, and whether or not his own presence in her life would complicate it as Aziraphale seemed to fear that it would, Crowley had never been one to allow his own curiosity to go untended.
Determined by the thought, the demon continued following after the girl as she parted ways from her other companions, the hints of their concern over her heading the rest of the way home alone falling on deaf ears as she managed one final, tentative smile for them both before turning on a heel and heading in the direction opposite them. It was clear she knew the area well, though that did not seem to be enough to allow her to walk along the sidewalk without her shoulders hunching inward in a gesture so defensive Crowley was amazed she had allowed herself to trust her two coworkers so quickly in spite of an apparently instinctive apprehension she seemed to feel towards the world as a whole.
Surprises like that, though, always seemed to come in all shapes and sizes.
Just another tribute to the so-called ineffable plan that Aziraphale was always yammering on about…
With a short laugh in response to the thought of the angel's reaction if he knew exactly what this girl had gotten herself into now, Crowley followed after her as she jogged across a nearby intersection and headed down the street perpendicular to the one housing the bar, the tension in her slight frame visible even from a distance as she skirted around two loiterers in an alley not long after her change in direction. For their part, they didn't seem to pay her any mind, far too caught up in whatever activity had led them to their current location to begin with to even notice her passing. But the fact that they unnerved her so much that her pace quickened as she continued to move away from them was not lost on the demon, his own steps picking up just a bit as he endeavored to not let her stray too far from his sight.
In his experience, sometimes too much in the way of a show of wariness could lure those with less than savory intentions far more quickly than a display of casual indifference, and he would have hardly been worth all the bluster he put forth for his cohorts in Hell if he failed to pick up on the very real aura of something not quite pleasant lurking in the vicinity, whether or not he wanted to acknowledge that realization himself.
Continuing to follow after the girl as she headed further down the block, Crowley found himself startled by the briefest contemplation of whether or not he might be the 'something' unpleasant in question, the idea not quite as preposterous as he may have wanted to believe as he recalled exactly what Aziraphale had said regarding the prospect of ever coming face to face with the girl again. He would have been the first to admit he harbored no ill-intentions towards the girl, no matter the consequences such a confession may have brought upon him as a result if the wrong people became aware of it. And although he had not picked up on any signs of hesitation from the girl, other than that brought about by her own intrinsic shyness back at the bar, the demon was more than a little preoccupied by the fact that perhaps she might have been better at concealing her reaction to him than he initially believed.
Or, at least he was, until he rounded another street corner not long after she did, herself, and found himself face to face with someone far more sinister than he could ever be.
"Fancy meeting you here, Crowley—" The unfortunately familiar voice intoned, something not all that far from a vindictive sort of pleasure seeping into his tone as he stepped out of a nearby alleyway, and blocked his fellow demon's path in one easy move, "Out for a little night air, hmm?"
"Might be," Crowley confirmed, effecting an air of nonchalance as he glanced from the tall, yellow-haired demon who had addressed him, to the stockier, darker-skinned creature at his side, "What's it to you, Hastur?"
"Just checking in. Seeing why you're out here, on your own, when you should be looking after the anti-Christ."
"Boy's fine. Probably sleeping by now, back at his mum and dad's. Not much trouble he can get in as a baby, am I right?"
"Trouble comes in all shapes and sizes, Crowley. You know that," The shorter of the two demons growled, darting a glance over his shoulder at the retreating form of the dark-haired girl, and allowing a sly grin to twist at the corners of his mouth before going on, "She's a pretty lil' thing, ain't she?"
"No idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, I don't think that's exactly true. You were followin' her," Ligur pressed, stepping just a fraction of an inch closer to his adversary, and finding him more than a little displeased when he saw not even a flicker of anything even remotely akin to panic in the taller man's expression, "Why?"
"Why, what?"
"You know very well what—"
"Actually, I don't think I do."
"Deny it all you like, Crowley. We know what you're about," Hastur cut in, placing a restraining hand upon his shorter companion's shoulder, and stepping up beside him with his head cocked to the side in a combination of wry amusement, and open distrust, "And we're here to tell you she's not yours to corrupt."
"Who says I'm corrupting anyone?" Crowley denied, bringing his shoulders up in a shrug, though he highly suspected it would do nothing to assuage the obvious suspicions of the two demons stood before him, "S'like I said. Just walking down the street."
"Our lord and master wants her for himself. And after what you did, getting in the way of his initial plan to sway her to our side, well—let's just say he doesn't exactly trust you to do the job, yourself."
"What job might that be, then? Getting her to turn tricks for her boss at the bar?"
"Oh, no. What our master has in mind is far better than all that," Hastur assured, a grim smile curving his lips as he dropped his hand from Ligur's shoulder, back to his side, and regarding Crowley for a beat of silence before doing his best to ensure the words he spoke were laced with all the threat he could summon to his disposal.
"And you would be wise to leave her to us, lest you wish to suffer the consequences for meddling in an affair that does not concern you."
The two demons disappeared not long after the words had been spoken, the aura of menace travelling with them as they disappeared back down the alley from which they had come as though they truly had never been there at all. In the time since they had thwarted his progress, Crowley had, in fact, lost track of the girl he had been following, any indicator of her presence having disappeared not long after she had, herself. And so, in lieu of attempting to discern where she had gone, the demon simply turned and headed back in the way from which he had come, his thoughts turning inward as he ambled down the street, paying hardly any attention to his surroundings at all, as he went.
Hastur and Ligur could threaten all they liked, but he could hardly abandon the girl now, when she did not even know that she was about to be in over her head…
…
Well hello there, my lovelies! And welcome to another new chapter in Fiona's tale! I have to admit, this one took a very different turn from what I had initially planned, and I'm honestly not too sure how I feel about the end result. But regardless of my own self-conscious thoughts, I do hope that at least some of you enjoyed the little bit of angst I tossed into the end? What can I say, I guess I am incapable of letting Crowley and Fiona have an easy first-meeting, without trying to shake things up a bit at the same exact time. With that said, I do hope that my sudden decision wasn't all that objectionable, because I promise you there really is a method to my madness, even if it doesn't seem like it right now. I am but the humble servant of my oftentimes fickle little muses, and I am only trying to do what they instruct me to do.
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far (and special thanks to last chapter's reviewers: ChiTown4ever, Guest (CJ/OddBall), and LeersiaorizoidesLSw, this means you)! I truly do appreciate the support, more than you can ever know, and I can only hope that you enjoyed this chapter every bit as much as you appear to have enjoyed the last!
Until next time, my angels…
MOMM