TITLE: break my cage and spread my wings

SUMMARY: Everyone called the Titanic the 'Ship of Dreams', but for Aziraphale, it was the ship of nightmares, carrying her away from her home in England, and her dreams of freedom, and towards the bleak future of her arranged marriage in America. The only spark of light in the darkness is her new and tentative friendship with the boldly intimate Crowley.

AO3 TAGS: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Rose Dewitt Bukater Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Jack Dawson Crowley (Good Omens), Caledon Hockley Gabriel (Good Omens), Ruth Dewitt Bukater Michael (Good Omens), Arranged Marriage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flirting, Teasing, Smooth Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Hand Holding, Dancing, Touching, Neck Kissing, Light Angst, Temporary Break Up, First Kiss, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Naked Female Clothed Female, Naked Aziraphale (Good Omens), Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Time, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Tribadism, more tags to come (probably), tags only look scary because of all the '(Good Omens)' additives (set by AO3 not me)


Chapter Five: Party! in Third Class

Chapter Summary: "I want to show you a real party."

AN: Woops I forgot to upload yesterday my bad. -.-;


1912 April 13, Saturday - Day 4 (Part Three)

As the laughter garnered from Madame Tracy's story slowly died down, Aziraphale found herself actually smiling; another first for a dinner party, especially one that her mother and Gabriel were also at. It helped that Crowley's hand was still warm in her own, the weight of their contact a gentle pressure in her lap. It helped too that Aziraphale liked Madame Tracy - she was kind and practical in a way most of the first class passengers weren't, something which Aziraphale suspected had something to do with her upbringing outside of high society. Michael had scoffed at her 'new money' status, but Aziraphale rather liked the person it had made.

There was a lull in the conversation, and one of the older men across the table stood. "Join me for a brandy, gentlemen?" he asked, and like a flock of startled birds, the men at the table rose with him. Thankfully, Gabriel was among them.

Crowley gently squeezed her hand and pulled away as Gabriel leaned over Aziraphale, and Aziraphale reluctantly let her go. She had no idea what Gabriel would say if he caught them, but she knew it wouldn't be pleasant. For either of them.

He set both of his hands on her shoulders, and it felt like she was being pushed under water. "Shall I walk you back to our rooms?" he asked, breath too warm against the side of her face.

"No, I'll stay here, thank you," she said quietly with a small shake of her head. At least, she would for a reasonable amount of time before excusing herself as well. At least a denial now kept her from having to walk with Gabriel, and perhaps be accosted by him at their arrival to their rooms.

Gabriel hummed distractedly and squeezed her shoulders before walking away, and Aziraphale felt a weight lift from her at the sight of his retreating back. A weight that had nothing to do with the absence of his hands. Movement to her left caught her eye, and she turned to find Crowley pulling her gloves back on, like she was about to leave. Loneliness washed over Aziraphale, quick and cold like the ocean, and she swallowed against the lump in her throat - it was true she wanted to stay to delay the inevitable with Gabriel, but she also wanted to stay so that she could spend more time with Crowley.

"I'm afraid I must be off as well," Crowley said to the table at large, standing more gracefully than Aziraphale had ever been able to manage. Aziraphale stared up at her, feeling her heart beat wildly against the claws of desperation closing tight around it. Crowley's eyes found hers, and Crowley smiled beatifically. "However, I would like to finish our conversation. Walk with me," she said, looking down at Aziraphale, but it still took a moment to realize that it was her being spoken to.

"Me?" she asked, surprised. Crowley smiled, soft and warm, and nodded.

Aziraphale looked towards her mother and Michael nodded imperiously, both granting permission and demanding Aziraphale attend to the more wealthy. Suddenly filled with nervous energy, Aziraphale got to her feet a great deal less gracefully than Crowley had, but there was no judgement on Crowley's face when Aziraphale stood before her, clumsily pulling on her own gloves. Her mother, however, was watching her with narrowed eyes, and Aziraphale could almost hear her hiss "Do not mess this up." After all, it was the same thing she'd been told before every social engagement back home.

"Come along," Crowley said cheerfully, linking arms with Aziraphale and guiding her through the maze of tables and chairs and out of the formal dining hall.

They walked in companionable silence all the way up the grand staircase, but Aziraphale's mind was swirling with questions, and she couldn't hold her tongue for long. But as they neared the clock, the questions built on Aziraphale's tongue and she opened her mouth to let them out. Only Crowley beat her to it.

"Would you like to go to a real party, angel?" Crowley asked a low murmur, leaning in close as she guided them towards the outer deck rather than the suites.

Aziraphale frowned, confused and feeling like she was missing out on the opportunity she thought she'd had to get to know Crowley better. "But- I thought…"

Crowley turned towards her to back out of the door to the deck and her smile so warm and soft and welcoming that Aziraphale wanted to… to touch it. To taste it. She did neither, only followed Crowley into the cold.

"I promise to tell you anything you wish to know. But those stuffy affairs that the first class calls a party is no way to end a night," she scoffed derisively. "I want to show you a real party."

Aziraphale blinked. "You mean-" She glanced around surreptitiously, but there were few passengers partaking of the air and ocean this late at night, and none close enough to overhear them. "You mean in third class?"

Crowley nodded, smiling that wicked smile of hers again.

"Can we?" Aziraphale asked, not wanting to get her hopes up.

"Well, you're allowed to go where you like, but I for one will receive a talking to if I don't show up."

There was a long pause, where Aziraphale waited for Crowley to say she'd been joking, to take it back, but Crowley only watched her, waiting patiently for her response. And Aziraphale realized that what she was waiting to pass never would - thus far, while Crowley had teased and flirted, she'd never lied. She'd never given Aziraphale a reason not to trust her.

"I… I would like to go. Please."

Crowley's grin turned wide and pleased, and then her hand slid down Aziraphale's arm to interlace their fingers. "Good. Then follow me and be very quiet."

Even though Crowley had said that she was allowed to go wherever she wanted, and therefore Crowley, dressed as she was, should be allowed the same, they ended up sneaking past every guest and steward on their way to steerage. Aziraphale half-suspected Crowley had done it because she could, but she couldn't find it in herself to mind. She'd never felt so alive than during their sneaking, her heart pounding, her hand almost numb from how tightly she gripped Crowley's, and her lips hurt from how hard she kept herself from smiling, or worse, laughing and giving away the game.

The sheer din that rose out of the stairwell to greet them made Aziraphale flush with excitement. The music seemed to match her heartbeat, fast-paced and cheerful; it sounded like fighting music. And the laughter! Aziraphale had never heard so many people be so happy! It was as far from her quiet life of soft conversation and tinkling crystalware and calming violines as she'd never dared to dream. She paused, unable to help the way her heart skipped with trepidation, and Crowley looked back at her.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, her husky voice still audible over the ruckus below them.

Oddly enough, Aziraphale did. So she swallowed and nodded, and let herself be pulled down the stairs.

As if seeking to immediately alay Aziraphale's fears of being ostracized, the people who saw them first let out loud cheers and threw their arms in the air in greeting, apparently uncaring of the fact that the newcomers were wearing dresses worth more money than they would ever see in a lifetime. They shoved glasses in both Crowley's and Aziraphale's hands, and Aziraphale didn't even have time to thank them before the pulsing crowd pulled them further into the room. Scared of getting lost in the masses, Aziraphale clung tightly to Crowley's hand, but Crowley held back just as tightly, and eventually they were spat out in front of several children in a small, empty clearing.

There were five in all, four boys and a girl, and one of the boys pushed forward, his too-long brown hair practically hanging in his face. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

"You're late," he complained so imperiously that Aziraphale had to bite back a smile. He looked Crowley up and down and scowled. "Why are you dressed like a lady?"

"I am a lady," Crowley said, her face so serious and her tone so scandalized that Aziraphale lost her battle with her smile and had to hide it behind her hand instead.

"I'm sorry," said another boy, this one with curly brown hair. He stepped up beside his friend and gestured at Aziraphale. "She's a lady. You're just Crowley."

Aziraphale couldn't help it anymore - she laughed out loud, the sound startling her. She couldn't actually remember the last time she'd laughed. Crowley jerked towards her, looking just as startled, and then something shifted in her expression and she looked… awed. It made Aziraphale blush and turn away, but Crowley let go of her hand to reach up to cup her cheek, which only made her face hotter.

"You even laugh like an angel," Crowley murmured, eyes darting all over Aziraphale's face. The contact was just as intense as Crowley's words the day before, and it froze Aziraphale and stole the breath from her chest.

Crowley's gaze dropped to her mouth and Aziraphale stopped breathing. She knew that look, she knew what that look meant, what it meant they wanted. Her gaze fell to Crowley's mouth and she couldn't look away. Did that mean that she, too... ? Oh, she might. She really might. She might and she just...

"Ewww!"

The chorus of complaints from the children made Aziraphale blink, and she suddenly realized how close Crowley's face was to hers. How they were still standing in a room full of people, where anyone could see them. She'd been brought up better than that, to leave affection for behind closed doors. Embarrassed, Aziraphale whirled away, pressing the silk of her gloves to the heat of her face.

Crowley had just about to- She'd just been about to-! But even Gabriel had never-! Oh, but, she'd never wanted Gabriel to…

Feeling dizzy, Aziraphale closed her eyes and pressed her hand to them, but the world still spun.

"Angel?"

There was a tentative touch of fingers to her elbow and she shook her head. "I'm alright," she said, but the words came out quiet and hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm alright." She lowered her hand and turned back around.

Crowley was frowning but it looked to be in concern, rather than anger, like when she Aziraphale rebuked Gabriel. "Was I being too intense again?" she asked softly, the fingers on Aziraphale's elbow sliding down to her hand.

Aziraphale paused and then nodded, unable to meet Crowley's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I told you, angel," she said, drawing closer. "You don't have to apologize to me."

She glanced up and Crowley smiled down at her, almost encouragingly, and squeezed her hand.

"You're too kind to me, Crowley." The words fell from her lips unbidden, but that didn't make them any less true.

A strange look came over Crowley's face and then her smile turned sad. "I'm really not," she denied with a small shake of her head. "I think the people in your life just haven't been kind enough."

Etiquette dictated that she reject Crowley's statement, but a lifetime of wishing for freedom held the words back on her tongue. Crowley gave a small nod, as if she'd expected it, and then she straightened, putting some unexpected space between them and making the din of music and shouting and laughter rush back in between them.

"Enough of that kind of talk for now," Crowley declared. "It's time we danced."

It took a minute for the words to register, but when they did, Aziraphale blinked up at Crowley in dawning horror. "Crowley, dear, no-"

But Crowley was wearing that mischievous smile again, and she stepped in close. "We'll have to be a lot closer to make it work though," she said devilishly.

There was a hand holding hers up in the air, and another hand against her back, pushing her into Crowley's body, and Aziraphale's free hand fluttered about uselessly before landing on Crowley's shoulder. She stared up at her friend in alarm.

"Crowley, I can't dance!" she exclaimed, digging in her heels, but Crowley only grinned wider, her expression closer to manic that delight, but it was a wonder to see all the same.

"Me either! Let's find out how!"

She didn't give Aziraphale another chance to get out of it, just whirled her away in such a manner that Aziraphale had no choice but to step with her. She shrieked as they twirled past faces and shouts, and Crowley was right there with her, laughing all the while. They spun and they spun until all Aziraphale knew was the pounding of her heart in her ears, the gentle pressure of Crowley's hands at her hand and her waist, and the sight of Crowley's face, bright with happiness under the dim lighting.

TBC


Update next Saturday and don't forget to toss rebloga to your Writer (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post / 190591686323)~