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042. Triangle

Of course, he should have been happy. He should have reported is as a great triumph. An angel committing adultery with a human? Precious, just precious. The people back in Hell would have laughed themselves silly.

For some reason, though, he didn't feel like rejoicing. In fact, he didn't feel like reporting it at all. Rather he felt like going to the angel, grasping on his shoulders, shaking him a bit and asking just what the Heaven he thought he was doing. Didn't Aziraphale realize he could Fall for things like that? Crowley didn't want to start over with a new angel. He was comfortable with Aziraphale. They worked well together. With a new angel he would have to fight and battle and bear all the "vile serpents" that might be actually meant this time. And there would be no more comfortable dinners and drunken conversations and leisurely walks and friendly arguments and rearranged duties for everybody's best interest. That would be... unpleasant.

Also, the thought of Aziraphale having absolutely anything to do with that idiot was rather unsettling. Aziraphale was the angel, right? So he was meant to be pure and unsullied and whatnot. Definitely not something an idiotic human should get their hands at.

Of course Aziraphale claimed it had been perfectly innocent and whatnot. Just friends, he claimed. Simply talking and discussing the latest news, and heavens, if the man's books weren't good. Although his way of living was a bit uncomfortable, but that couldn't be helped, could it? He was just a human, after all, they were vulnerable to certain vices. Nothing beyond that had happened, not ever, he wouldn't go committing adultery or anything.

The angel lied, Crowley suspected. He couldn't tell for sure – he wasn't as sensitive to angelic sins as to those committed by humans – but he knew there was more to it than Aziraphale would tell him.

It was unfair, really. If anybody slept with Aziraphale, by any right it should have been him. He'd been around the angel since before the beginning of Time. And now, when he just took a little nap, some human came and messed around with his ang – err, his counterpart? Not that he'd wanted Aziraphale or anything, Hell forbid, they were strictly allies, but he had at least more right to the angel than a random crazy writer.

Hopefully Aziraphale would come to his senses soon and stop moaning about his friend's fate. The guy had been begging for it, they way he behaved in such a time and age. Where had he thought he was? Sodom and Gomorrah? This was 19th century Britain!

Until Aziraphale came around, though, there was little he could do but wait. Mostly he hoped he could just go to sleep for another century or two, but the thought of what the angel might get up to during that time stopped him. The next thing he knew he'd wake up to find the angel hosting an orgy full of underage boys.

A shudder ran through his spine. Now, that was one mental image he had not needed.

Aziraphale sighed. Wine did not taste as good as it usually did. He tried to ignore the nagging suspicion that this had something to do with the fact that he was drinking alone. After all, he had been drinking alone for almost a century while Crowley had been sleeping. But then... then, it hadn't felt like this. While Crowley was asleep, he was asleep. Unavailable. Now he was very much awake – well, most of the day, anyway – but he was purposefully ignoring Aziraphale. And that was much, much worse than just not being there.

Or was it like that? Was Aziraphale himself the one avoiding Crowley, or even driving the demon away? That was possible. He had made it quite clear he wanted a break from the demon's suspicions. But really, it had been ridiculous. Crowley should have known him better than that. Oscar and he had been strictly friends, nothing else. What ever had made Crowley think there had been something more between them?

He should try to explain it, he thought. Maybe this time Crowley would even believe him. A peaceful conversation over a good dinner and some fine wine was what they needed, surely. A conversation between two mature, sensible beings – exactly what he needed. There had been so much happening during the century, too. He was sure Crowley wanted to catch up as soon as possible. And he still hadn't even told Aziraphale just why he had gone to sleep at the first place!

Yes, that was it. He would arrange for a dinner for the two of them and ask Crowley to join him. After enough pleading e should get the demon to agree.

Rising from the table, he left the half-finished wine exactly where it had been. He didn't feel like finishing it right now.

Not without Crowley there.

In the end, it took very little. A good dinner and fine wine were indeed involved, as was some drunken conversation, stupid jokes, sharp questions and embarrassed answers on both of their parts, and finally a mutual agreement not to bring the topic up ever again. Crowley even went as far as to suggest that they should sleep together through the rest of the century – "Sleep, angel, strictly sleep, no sex involved, so please don't choke on your wine," – which Aziraphale refused and instead suggested they should find something else to do. In the end they ended up taking a walk to St. James's Park and feeding the ducks there. All in all, it felt comfortably normal in the end.

Crowley made a vague promise not to sleep through any more centuries "without a sufficient reason". Aziraphale, on his part, promised not to get involved with any "shady characters". Both insisting that they had done nothing wrong, though, neither one apologized. They were just fine with this.

Quite some time later they would look back to this incident and laugh, or at least share amused glances and perhaps a slight flush on Aziraphale's part. Right now, though, they were perfectly satisfied with just talking, sinking and un-sinking ducks, and repeatedly forgetting to sober up.

Some things were best dealt with while drunk, anyway.

Next Prompt: Square