AN: Let's play a game. It's called "Spot the places in this chapter where Krissy/Julie got desperate and tried to make the other person explain things!"
Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to a lot of people, none of who are named Krissy or Julie.
--
Crowley looked around the little room that was to be his home for the next however many days, and sighed. He had finally found the Xiongbala Hotel after nearly an hour of driving, and it had turned out to be somewhat less than he had hoped. That's what you got when you let an angel choose the hotel, he supposed.
"What are you sighing about?"
"Couldn't you have found something bigger? With a Jacuzzi?"
Aziraphale stared at him blankly. "What on earth would we have done with a Jacuzzi?"
"That's not the point! The point is that a hotel room should have it! And room service! And masses of people waiting to serve our every whim!"
Aziraphale did not dignify this with a response.
Crowley glared at him for a few seconds, and then flopped down on one of the beds. It was lumpy.
"Oh come now, my dear," Aziraphale said, frowning and crossing his arms, "it is not all that bad."
Crowley snorted.
"If you just looked on the bright side of this, I'm sure--"
"Bright side? Bright side of being stuck in a little motel in sneezetown? Where's the brightness in that? Besides, I happen to like the dark."
"You would."
"So what's next in your brilliant plan to explore the world?"
"Tea would be nice," the angel said wistfully.
"We just had tea an hour ago."
"...but I like tea."
"Fine, tea then. We just came halfway around the world, so that we could drink tea. Never could have gotten that at home!"
Aziraphale folded some clothes at him in disdain.
Crowley made his luggage spew its contents all over the room, just to spite the angel. Aziraphale, who was certainly more mature, threw a pair of pants at Crowley's face.Crowley threw them back. And a shoe, because that was the only other thing he could reach without having to move.
Absurdly, at that moment Crowley felt a sudden pang, as if he missed someone. Except the only conceivable person he could miss was Aziraphale who was standing right in front of him looking irritated or possibly homicidal.
He considered this feeling for a moment. Who else did he even talk to on any sort of regular basis? He immediately thought of Hastur and Ligur and made an odd retching noise in the back of his throat.
Aziraphale looked at him oddly, but Crowley ignored this and continued his ponderings.
Aziraphale, who was sort of used to this by now, began to unpack things out of their suitcases, folding shirts and pants and putting them into the drawers. Or at least out of the suitcase that was not currently scattered around the room.
He draped one of Crowley's many identical black coats over Crowley's head. "Do something with this."
Crowley considered throwing it at him, but waved it into the closet instead and continued on with his pondering. The only other things he talked to were his plants, but what sort of person missed their plants? No, there had so be someone else.
He was slightly disturbed to find that he only really talked to Aziraphale, Hastur and Ligur. And occasionally Adam. Aziraphale plopped another coat on his head, followed by the pair of pants that had hit him in the face.
"What are you doing?"
"Thinking."
"Don't hurt yourself."
Crowley made a face and Aziraphale threw a pair of socks at it. They burst into flame in midair.
"Well now. That was completely uncalled for."
"I beg to differ."
Aziraphale gave an exasperated sigh and hung up the last of his trousers. "You may sit on the bed and think or not think for as long as you wish, but I am going downstairs and finding a decent cup of tea."
"How much tea do you need?" Crowley demanded, waiting a few seconds before getting up and following the angel. Just to show that he could choose not to if he so desired.
"At least twice my body weight."
"What, every hour?"
"Possibly."
Crowley sighed and gave up. Maybe it really was the plants he was missing...
Aziraphale left.
Crowley sighed again and went after him.
The angel gave him the Evil Eye as he saw him coming. "I thought you were going to stay in the room and mope. Or think."
"I've decided I need some plants."
"What?"
"Plants. I'm going to go get myself some."
"Why?"
"I like plants."
"You mean you like torturing them."
"I never said that."
"It's blatantly obvious, Crowley."
"Well if you're going to be that way about it..."
Aziraphale was aware of the fact that as an angel, he should probably be against the senseless torture of living beings. However, he rather doubted that he would be able to distract Crowley with tea, and couldn't think of anything else to use.
"Fine, fine, go out and buy ferns or magnolias or what have you."
"Thanks ever so for your permission; I just couldn't live with myself if I bought plants without it."
"Well, then what were you bothering me about?"
"You're the one who wanted to know what I was doing," Crowley pointed out.
Aziraphale's hands made little twitchy motions.
"Problem?" Crowley asked him sweetly.
"Go away."
"I was. It's not my fault you're going the same direction."
Aziraphale realized talking did nothing and immediately stopped.
This earned him a smirk from Crowley, which he carefully ignored.
Just then!
"STOP THOSE TWO!" Someone yelled from behind them.
"Huh?" Crowley glanced toward the yell, and was greeted with the sight of several large burly men running straight at him and Aziraphale.
"Erk," he said
"Whatever is the matter, dear?" Aziraphale asked him.
Crowley was in the middle of a panic attack before he remembered he was a demon, and then was in the middle of doing something nasty to the large burly men when he realized a)that Aziraphale wouldn't let him do it, and b) that it didn't really matter anyway because it wasn't working in the first place. Crowley began to panic again. It was at this point the large burly men reached the two of them, and very shortly afterwards had them surrounded. Aziraphale blinked at them in confusion. Crowley made frantic motions that indicated that they should LEAVE preferably NOW and then was unfortunately stopped in this attempt by a large burly man clapping a hand on his shoulder. He attempted to make Aziraphale understand the necessary action of leaving by staring at him through his sunglasses intently. It didn't seem to be working.
"I beg your pardon," Aziraphale said to the large burly man directly in front of him. "But you seem to be blocking my way..."
Crowley made a long, pained noise like a duck being stepped on.
A few of the large burly men chuckled in a way that suggested that whatever they were laughing at, neither Crowley or Aziraphale was likely to find it very funny.
"Do you need something?" Aziraphale asked politely.
"You two're comin' with us." The largest and burliest of the men grunted.
"Whatever for?"
"Cuz I said you are."
Aziraphale frowned. "That's not a very good reason." He was beginning to sense that something was Very Wrong, and it was worrying him. That and the fact that Crowley was trying frantically to tell him something with his eyes, which as far as he could tell was "Buy me a pony and a cactus!" or "Your pants are on backwards" This sense was heightened when Mr. Large-and-Burly ignored his last comment, muttering "Bring'm" and starting to walk away instead of answering. Another of the men clamped Aziraphale's shoulder in a very large hand and propelled him forward, with Crowley and his captor close behind.
"Unhand me!"
This was also ignored, along with the undignified groaning squawk Crowley emitted.
"We could get out of this, you know!" He said loudly to the angel.
"What?" Aziraphale asked blankly.
"IF WE USED, OH, SOME SORT OF MAGIC," he bellowed desperately.
"Oh, that" Aziraphale gave him a painfully obvious conspiratorial wink. "Of course dear, why don't you work something out?"
"What're youse planning down there?" a voice rumbled above Crowley's head.
"Nkgh" Crowley responded intelligently.
"That's terribly clever," Aziraphale commented in a spiteful sort of way.
In any other situation, Crowley would have hit him. As it was, he had to be satisfied with a withering glare that was totally ignored by the angel.
"Youse are way too talkative," said one of the men, and attempted to hit them over the head with a gun that was mysteriously replaced by a daisy.
"Is he s'posed to be able t'do dat?" The man asked one of his cronies.
"Dun think so."
The man considered this for a minute. "So how'd 'ee do it then?"
"Dunno."
This seemed to exhaust their supply of conversation, and they continued in silence for a few minutes.
Crowley gave up and elbowed the man holding him in the gut and grabbed Aziraphale. "This is ridiculous!" he yelled for the benefit of no one in particular as he sprinted down the hallway. He got about five steps before running into a solid mass of muscle covered by a cheap suit that stepped out from a side hall. It looked at him in disgust. As much as a solid mass of muscle can, that is.
"Oh dear." Aziraphale commented thoughtfully.
"Do something!"
"I'm afraid I can't..."
The cheap suited man grabbed them both and lifted them off the ground. Quite a long ways off the ground.
"How about now?" Crowley wheezed.
The man knocked their heads together, and someone snickered nastily from behind them.
One of the downfalls of having a human body, Crowley discovered, was that you could actually be knocked out. He decided, as his vision faded to black, that he should probably put in a complaint about that if he ever got out of this...
--
Aziraphale woke up. He opened his eyes. He was in the back of a van. This, he thought, was probably not a good thing. Aziraphale squirmed around, trying to get his bearings and found out that Crowley was right next to him when he accidentally hit him in the head with his foot.
Crowley growled something that Aziraphale couldn't understand. Which was probably just as well. He tried to apologize but it came out mostly like "fjfdklf."
"Quiet back there!" Came a voice from the front of the van.
Crowley found the whole situation completely ridiculous. He was lying tied up on his back in a van, being yelled at by some unknown thug for protesting the fact that his best friend had kicked him in the head.
Life was unfair.
The van went over a large bump, causing him to hit his head on the floor and underscoring his point. He twitched and suddenly the ropes around his hands were gone. This was a distinct improvement. Now all he had to do was figure out why the door of the van hadn't gone with them.
It is important to note at this point that he had not done the same favor for Aziraphale. It is also important to note that Aziraphale resented this, and took the opportunity to kick Crowley in the head again.
Crowley yelped.
"HEY!" The person in front yelled. "I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!"
"You'd just yell at me for using my powers again!" Crowley hissed irritably while trying to open the van doors.
"You could have used them once on both of us!" Aziraphale whispered back. "Now untie me at once."
"This is ridiculous," said Crowley. But he did it anyway
"That's better. Now get the door open."
"I'm trying!"
Aziraphale frowned at him. "Then why isn't it open yet?"
"If you're so intelligent, why don't you do it then?"
"You're the one who always likes showing off, I figured you would want to do it."
"Don't make me come back there!" someone yelled from the front.
"Can you at least do something about him?" Aziraphale asked.
"No!"
"Why not!"
"Because I'm too busy kicking this door open and jumping out of a moving van!" And indeed, Crowley was.
Aziraphale very nearly swore, but jumped out of the van instead. Straight into the path of another van.
Today was not a good day.
He rolled to the side, just barely avoiding getting run over as the second van skidded to a halt. Crowley landed next to him.
"Shit." The demon stated as the large burly men from the hotel got out of the van and started heading towards them. Crowley waved his hands and suddenly found absolutely nothing at all happening as a result. Just like with the van door.
"Az! Can you get rid of them?" He hissed.
"What?"
"DO SOMETHING!"
Aziraphale stared at him blankly, and then did a little dance. "You mean like that?"
It was at this point that the men reached the two of them, and as Crowley was staring in utter shock at the dancing angel, they were both grabbed by their already abused shoulders and shoved towards the van.
"That was pathetic!" he yelled. "I--you--arraaggggggh!"
"NO TALKING!" One of the men yelled, hitting Crowley on the head.
"Agh!" he said.
"I said to shut up!" A fist was waved in front of his face.
"Stop that," said Aziraphale.
"Make me, pussy boy."
Aziraphale frowned, finally irritated enough to break his own rule about using powers only to find that, much to his dismay, nothing happened when he waved his hand. He shook it experimentally to be sure. He was rewarded by a solid blow to the head. Aziraphale blacked out again.
When he woke for the second time, he was once more tied, and once more in a van, this time with some distinctly unfriendly looking men sitting nearby.
"Oh dear," he said, and tried to look around discreetly to see if Crowley was with him or not.
"You move again and you'll regret it." One of the men told him.
"Aha ha ha..." he replied and wondered if this was supposed to be some sort of divine test or faith or somesuch.
Someone kicked Aziraphale in the back. He hoped it was Crowley.
"Crowley? Is that you?"
"I said no talking!" Yelled a Large Burly Man. Again.
Someone sighed disgustedly.
Aziraphale knew that sigh. So the good news was that Crowley was still here. The bad news was that Crowley was here, and not somewhere where he could do some good.
He sighed unhappily. One of the men yelled at him again. Aziraphale decided that it might be prudent to shut up for a while. Crowley made a noise of suffering. There was a threatening sound from the direction of the large men. Again.
Forty-five long, threatening noise filled minutes later, the van finally cam to a stop.
The men, who Aziraphale had noted didn't seem capable of much else besides making threatening noises, expanded their horizons by blindfolding them again and taking them outside somewhere. Under the circumstances, he couldn't help but feel mildly impressed.
Aziraphale was shoved along a passage that seemed unnecessarily bumpy as well as having an inordinate number of turns. Several of which he was not aware of before running face first into a wall.
"Fngnga!" He said in surprise, to which one of the large men replied by making a threatening noise. They were very good at it.
He supposed they must get a lot of practice.
All of a sudden they stopped. The blindfold was removed. They were in a large, underground cavern of some sort and a man in a very funny dress was standing in front of them. He was also wearing large, pink hat. Crowley made an odd choking noise, and was smacked in the head as a result.
"Welcome, heathens!" He said. Very, very loudly.
"Heathens? Excuse me?" Aziraphale asked him in confusion.
The man looked haughty and waved his arms around a bit. "Yes! Heathens!"
Aziraphale didn't know quite what to say to this, so he satisfied himself with "Oh."
Crowley sniggered.
"Well I don't hear you helping," Aziraphale whispered at him.
"SILENCE," bellowed the man. His words were underscored by another set of smacks on the head for Crowley and Aziraphale.
"You are here because you are HEATHENS! You are not following the law of God!"
Aziraphale stared at him incredulously. "I ENFORCE the law of God!"
"SILENCE!" The man shouted again. "YOU WILL NOT SPEAK SUCH BLASPHEMY HERE, FOUL DEMONS!" The large men made some threatening noises of agreement.
Crowley attempted to stop laughing, but only succeeded in making a noise like a demented frog.
"This isn't funny!" Aziraphale nearly whined.
The man in front of them clapped his hands sharply to get everyone's attention. "Take them away! We will prepare the Death of Ten Thousand Screams tonight and tomorrow," He paused significantly. "They DIE!"
"Oh dear."
"What?" Crowley yelped. "We do not! We refuse!"
"You cannot refuse the will of God!"
"But I'm an angel of God!" Aziraphale yelled at him.
"You are a demon! A heathen! I saw you working your arcane magic in the area of flying machines!"
"I'm an angel! He's the demon!" He gestured at Crowley, to make sure they got the idea.
"...area of flying machines?" said Crowley.
"Yes! You summoned one of your hellish minions, causing destruction and CHAOS!"
"Why don't you just say airport?" he asked. "That's what it is. An airport."
The man gave him the sort of look that implied that he was something odd and somewhat rotten that the cat had just deposited on the expensive carpet.
"Area of flying machines." He thundered. With emphasis.
"Fine. Have it your way. Now Mister Angel here wants you to let us go. He's a messenger from God."
The man turned a funny purple color and whipped something out of his robes. It was very large, and very gaudy and he seemed to think it would somehow change the way things were going.
Aziraphale peered curiously at it, wondering how it had fit in the robes when it was bigger than could conceivably exist under any piece of fabric without making a lump.
The man said something, which sounded remarkably like, "foofofofooofgh" and the thing Turned On.
"AUGH!" Crowley yelled.
Despite its appearance and despite the fact that the man was obviously a moron, the thing happened to do one important thing. Crowley and Aziraphale quickly discovered what this was. It was something they had never expected. And probably could never have imagined had they not experienced it. It was truly shocking! And amazing! Completely astounding! With one thousand elephants! OUT OF NOWHERE, a girl with a large spoon appeared! And SMACKED THE TWO OF THEM ON THE HEAD WITH IT! With a NOISE of DOOM! AND DISAPPEARED LIKE THE WIND.
The man in the pink hat looked smug. "Ha ha ha!" laughed the man. "I can see that my powerful mind-controlling mental device is working! You can not disobey me!"
"What?" Aziraphale asked him blankly.
"Silence!" said the man, and Aziraphale found that he couldn't speak. He thought vaguely that this could probably be filed under Not Good, but was then distracted as the man barked an order to follow the henchmen who had brought the pair of them in to a holding cave where they could await their horribly painful death. HORRIBLY PAINFUL
If Aziraphale could have talked, he would have sworn.
--
Note the random Megami reference. Har har. We're so awesome.
