Disclaimer: see chapter 1

A/N: Demon in tape is not Hastur, just some poor sod who pissed Belial off. Hm, I really should have made it clear. And I don't think that this is going to have much romance in it so I really don't know if there will be a pairing...

Something Wicked This Way Comes
#3: There's This Problem
By: Aries Draco

Aziraphale was not used to dealing with demons. Oh, sure, after six thousand years, he had Crowley in the bag but he never had to deal with other demons. Which was why he was sitting down inside the back room of his shop, accepting the very strong drink that Crowley was offering him and wondering if he ought to be doing something, like contacting Heaven and letting them know that a PRINCE OF HELL was interested in him.

Belial was sitting outside, in the main area of the shop. It would not be difficult to temporarily immobilise Crowley (who might feel obliged to support his superior) while blessing a bucket of water to throw over the PRINCE OF HELL. Right, maybe that would do. Then they could forget all about this and go back to their normal, everyday lives. Thwarting was his job after all and Belial was not part of the Arrangement.

The more he thought about it, the better he felt. Yes, he could go through with this.

"Angel, why are you grinning like that?" asked Crowley in a slightly worried tone of voice.

Of course, there would be repercussions. For example, Hell would be seriously displeased (to put it mildly) to lose a Prince. This could result in orders to do away with the angel, once and for all. And they'd have to fight. And when he won, which he would because he was on the side of good, he would have to deal with a replacement demon and six thousand years of building up relations would be ruined.

So maybe it wasn't such a good idea, after all.

"Aziraphale!" yelled Crowley. It was obvious that the demon had been trying to get his attention for the past few minutes.

"Yes?" replied the angel, nonplussed.

"Urm." Crowley squirmed slightly. What was wrong with him today? He was usually eloquent enough to dance circles around the angel's head, especially considering the state of inebriation that the angel had reached, but today! Today he was at a loss for words. And he was willing to bet (as demons were wont to push the blame) that Belial was the cause of it.

Aziraphale sobered up. He needed a clear mind to plot his course of action. Why was he drinking? Ah, right. He gave a little frown as he noted that Crowley had tried to distract him with alcohol, feeling rather guilty that it had actually worked. But the time now was for planning, not punishment. Aziraphale made a little note to get some extra work done, just to get back at Crowley, then turned his mind back to his current predicament.

There was a scream, followed by the wet 'thunk' of a heavy object coming into contact with something decidedly more fragile, then a sort of gurgle, causing both angel and demon to stare at the door to the back room. And there was a polite knock. The door opened and Belial poked his head in.

Crowley eyed his superior warily. Aziraphale had already gotten up, tensed into a fighting stance.

"What happened?" he demanded, striding to the door, giving Crowley the impression of a flaming-sword-welding-angel that he hadn't seen in awhile.

Belial grinned sheepishly, offering a bloody encyclopaedia to the surprised angel. "I'm dreadfully sorry about the book but do you happen to have a sink?" he inquired. Examining his hands and his now-bloody coat, he shook his head. "Dear me, I've always hated killing people. There's so much paperwork relating to it."

Horrified, Aziraphale dashed out of the back room to be faced with a very dead... imp. There was a look of fear on its face, or what's left of it, considering that it had just had its skull bashed in by a thick book. It was apparent that the imp had only been some kind of messenger but...

Why would a Prince of Hell randomly murder a worthless little imp?

Crowley stared at the mess on the floor, slowly getting the feeling that he had been seriously screwed over. Things were beginning to click out of place.

There was a reason why Belial was not well known in hell. It was because he had done absolutely nothing that was noteworthy ever since he fell. While the other Princes spent time torturing their underlings and tempting human souls, it was rumoured that Belial was holed up in his little corner of Hell, dozing. For sure, he'd only ever visited the human world.

But many things had changed since his last visit, they must have. So how did he know how to dress, how to act? He must have spent time in the world prior to visiting Crowley. Crowley kicked himself mentally. He had just assumed that Belial had come straight to him, since he was expecting a visit anyway. He had just assumed that he had come into a stroke of good fortune.

Now that he thought about it, it was obvious. The demon in the tape should have given him a hint. Belial knew what he was doing. And what had the demon been saying? "You'll never get away with this, Belial! There will be more..."

Belial was being hunted by the forces of Hell. Crowley had signed a contract with someone who was WANTED in Hell. Numbly, he informed the angel of his conclusions.

"Smart little guy you are," quipped Belial, still smiling brightly, back from the sink. "But there's nothing much you can do now, is there?" He helped himself to a seat and gestured for the angel to sit down as well. "I suppose I should make clear the situation now. Please, have a seat, angel. This is going to be a pretty unbelievable story."

"You tricked me, you fucking bastard!"

Belial rolled his eyes. "Come on, Crowley. I'm a fucking demon, it's what I do." And Crowley had no reply to that.

That little issue settled, Belial stood up. He proceeded to sit down on the angel's lap, straddling him, one hand wrapping around the exposed throat. "Now, angel dearest, I need you to do me a little favour," he cooed softly. "Will you be kind enough to open a line to Heaven? For me?"

Aziraphale, recovering from his shock, moved to shove the demon off but found himself on the floor instead. A hand was tangled in his hair as his head came into repeated contact with the hard floor.

"Don't even think about it, Crowley." Belial moved methodically, slamming the angel's head down over and over again. Then, he paused. "Listen, my dear, there is more than one way for me to get into contact with Heaven. Why don't you make things simpler for all of us?" he whispered almost tenderly. "I hate to kill people, really. But some things must be done."

One major drawback of having a body that you would be restricted to its physical limitations. Aziraphale's vision swam before he regained control over himself and willed the headache away. "Why would a demon want to contact Heaven?" he asked, opening his eyes. His accusing gaze was met by a pair of azure orbs.

"Does it really matter?" countered Belial, voice smooth and hypnotic. "It's not like I can do much over what is essentially a phoneline to Heaven. All I really want to do is to talk to someone up there. That's it, to talk. And you know how hard it is for anyone to establish two-way communication. That's why I need your help, angel. Please open up a line for me. I'll be ever in your debt."

What he was saying did make a lot of sense. The angel pondered these words. Well, there would be no harm in doing it anyway, right? Plus, he would put a demon, a Prince of Hell, mind you, in his debt. It could come in useful. There was nothing technically wrong with doing it, was there? Of course not.

Belial got up and helped the angel to his feet, smiling gratefully. As Aziraphale made the preparations, Crowley glowered at the Prince. Noticing him, Belial grinned even more widely.

"Don't look at me like that, Crowley. You look like I'd just raped your wife or something," laughed Belial. He looked down at his still-bloodstained clothes, then shook his head. "Oh dear me, I can't let anyone see me like this." He nodded curtly and the blood vanished.

At around the same time, a blue light filled the room. It gave the impression of looking around and not being very amused at what it found.

"Hello!" said Belial brightly. "Remember me?"

"How can anyone forget?" replied the Voice dryly. "Why have you coerced the Principality into contacting us?"

The smile faded somewhat from the demon's face. "Well, I'll be short with it. Lucifer's gone missing, Hell is in the midst of civil war and I was hoping to get some help to rectify these problems."

There was a moment of silence.

"And what makes you think that we are interested in meddling with the affairs of Hell?"

Any last pretence of joviality left Belial's face. "The Devil is loose on earth, doesn't that matter to you?" he demanded.

"And that is your reason? Because you felt that the humanity is in danger?" There was a definite note of amusement in the Voice.

"Amongst other things," replied Belial, now glaring at the light. "Lucifer's return to Hell will restore order there and at least you'll know where he is."

"We are of the opinion that the main reason you would want Satan back is because things will be more comfortable for you then. We know all about you. You're a Prince of Hell now, aren't you? But everyone knows the only reason for that is because you prostitute yourself to Satan at every available chance. Now, with your backing gone, things must be getting rather... uncomfortable."

Aziraphale watched the exchange in amazement. Was it just him or was the Voice sounding exceptionally vindictive? Belial... was smiling again, calmly, and the angel was beginning to learn to fear that smile.

"That is not the point, Voice. It would benefit your side as much as it would benefit me if you sent someone to look for Lucifer," explained Belial matter-of-factly. "Plus, I know that most of the remaining Princes are planning for war. Once the civil war is over, they will march against Heaven. Lucifer can stop them."

"We thank you for the warning, Belial. Rest assured that Heaven shall be prepared for any possible invasion." There was a pause. "However, your point has been considered. It is important that the Morningstar be found, therefore, we shall allow the Principality, Aziraphale, to aid you in your search. Please leave the room while he is briefed."

What?!

The angel didn't even notice Belial drag an equally stunned Crowley out of the shop.

"Aziraphale, here is your mission. You are to keep track of the happenings Hell by remaining with those two demons and observing them. There is no doubt they will receive news, one way or another. If there is a successful revolution, we must know of it. You must not let them know of your mission, else they may attempt to feed you inaccurate information. It is imperative that we are kept informed of the status of Hell, that we may be ready for anything they throw at us."

"So, basically, you want me to deceive them, to pretend that I am helping them while stealing information," summarised Aziraphale sardonically.

"Stealing is such a negative word. Let's call it espionage. In any case, the end justifies the means and you shall be forgiven for any sins you may commit in the course of this mission."

"I feel so much better," muttered the angel.

"May we remind you that there is a small, unresolved matter about the Apocalypse that wasn't?" asked the Voice sweetly in a tone that would have made Belial proud. "We suggest that you try your best in this mission to redeem yourself, Aziraphale. We'll be watching."

And that, they say, was that.

2013/150804