Disclaimer: Aziraphale, Crowley, and Good Omens are created and copyrighted by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. This is a fanfic, intended only in the spirit of fun. Tons of love and thanks is owed to the amazing and wonderful Daegaer, who provided tons of feedback for the first half of the fic, and then ended upsomehow volunteering herself as a beta-reader and a proofreader, and who helped me correct many of my Americanisms with proper British English. And thanks to y'all for reading!
Ordinary Miracles
by Nenena
Chapter 11
Somtow, S.P. 1992. Armorica. White Wolf Publishing, Clarkson, Georgia. LCCN N/A.
"This is a nice neighborhood," Crowley commented as he very, very slowly and very, very carefully steered the Bentley into an utterly illegal parking spot. "A really nice neighborhood. It doesn't look seedy at all. Are you sure this is the right place?"
"This is the address that the Edwards human said," Pauline repeated, although she sounded doubtful herself. They were currently parking on a residential block lined with neat little cottages, colorfully painted, each respectfully set back from the street and most fronted by good-sized yards, probably full of blooming gardens in the spring and summer. Many of the houses even had fences. Theo was amazed that houses so small and so close together would want to further clutter up their properties with fences.
The four of them left the car and cautiously approached a bright, blue, cheerful cottage on the corner. It looked rather Victorian, and most of the doors and windows were lined with colorful bricbrac and other assorted useless decorations. The perfect layers of white snow on the roof, on the eaves, and in the yard of the home, combined to create the likeness of frosting on a gingerbread house.
"I can't go in there," the Devil suddenly said. "I'm afraid I'll take up knitting. Don't places like that have germs?! I'll end up as mad as Crowley here."
"It'll be all right," Pauline soothed him. "Just try to think nasty thoughts."
They passed through the white picket gate in front of the yard, crossed the snowy front yard in three steps (four for Theo), and gathered in front of the door.
"Let me talk," Crowley said as he rang the doorbell. "You can step in and torture him only after he refuses to cooperate nicely. Agreed?"
Pauline made a disapproving "tsk" sound with her tongue, but she nodded anyway.
The door opened, and a tall man in a plaid shirt and jeans was standing there with a mug of coffee in one hand. He looked as though he had just been interrupted doing something important, and resented the intrusion. "Can I help you?" he asked the crowd in front of his door.
"We're looking for a Mr. Phale--"
"I don't know any Phales."
"Did he give you the name Aziraphale?"
"No. Never heard of. And I think I'd remember a weird name like that." He made as if to close the door--
Crowley shot out one hand and held the door open. "I can tell that you're lying," he said, very politely, "And I don't appreciate being lied to."
"Fine. All right. There was a guy with that name here. And he came here under his own volition and everything that he did on these premises is fully legal and I have his signed consent form to prove it. Now, unless you're a cop with a search warrant, nothing else that went on in this house, and nothing else that I know, is any of your business."
Crowley flicked out his tongue once, quickly. "You may have just taken a shower, sir, but I can still smell it all over you - cinnamon toast and tea. Shampoo and soap may mask it for a while, but humans can't get rid of leftover angel aura so easily. I think we need to come in."
"You can't come in here!" The man's face darkened, and he stood his ground. "For crying out loud, you've got a KID with you! What the hell are you trying to do, breaking into my house like this?!"
"Is he still here?" Theo suddenly blurted out. When everyone turned to look at him, he flushed, embarrassed, but continued anyway. "That's all we need to know, sir. Is Mr. Phale still here?"
"No. He left a while ago."
"Where did he go?"
"Soho. I think he just went home."
Crowley glared at the man, not fooled by the lie, so Bill gulped and continued, somewhat uneasily, "I mean, er, he actually said he was going to the bars. I figured he wouldn't get much action before the sun went down, but he seemed to think otherwise. And the funny thing is, with that guy, I somehow believe he's right."
Crowley sighed. "He didn't tell you anything more specific than that?"
"No." The man shook his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe that our business together is finished." He slammed the door shut on them.
"His name was William Holdings," Pauline said, crossing her arms across her chest. "He was drinking coffee and reading the Bible just before he answered the door. Really. I don't see what's so important about that that he would be all huffy about having to talk to us for less than a minute."
"Pauline," Crowley hissed, "You shouldn't go around poking into people's heads like that!"
"Oh, shouldn't I?" She smiled at him, baring her fangs. "You wouldn't believe the mental images that flashed across his brain the moment that you said that angel's name."
"Don't tell me," Crowley groaned. "Especially not in front of the little boy."
"Crowley, he was doing it with his wings out. And he was singing Amazing Grace."
Crowley clasped his hands over his ears. "I'm not he-earing this," he said in a sing-song voice.
"We have to GO!" Theo grabbed at Crowley's elbow. "We have to keep looking for him, and we have to STOP him before this goes any further!"
"I'll say," Lucifer agreed. " 'Snot fair, if that idiot angel gets to get away with Saving souls by doing THIS thing. That's practically cheating. It's way too easy to..." Then his voice slowly trailing off into nothing. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, then asked, "Say, has anybody from our side ever tried to--?"
"Yes," Pauline and Crowley answered in unison.
"Did it work?"
"No," they answered again.
"Then that's definitely not fair. Completely not fair, angels having an advantage like that," he grumped.
They drove back to Soho, following along Compton Street. The sun was setting, the wind was growing chill, and Crowley's car was starting to attract a lot of attention. He had to arrange matters so that nobody would notice it as it barreled down the street - which was difficult, as it turned out, because when he did so, then people started thinking that they didn't have to get out of its way. Which slowed the car down even more.
"How do we find one angel out of all these people?" Theo asked as the crowd around them began to thicken, as the night grew darker.
"That's easy," Crowley answered. "Just looked for the Saved people."
And occasionally, they'd see them - particularly satisfied, sated customers on their way out of choice establishments, many of them lightly scented with cinnamon and tea, and most of them thinking that they really ought to go back home and read (or buy) their copy of the Bible. They walked down the street with pleasantly dreamy expressions on their faces, they smiled broadly, and some of them had tears of joy in their eyes. Once they saw a whole group of them walking together. And once, there was a man hugging a street lamp on one corner and speaking in tongues.
So the three demons and the boy drove on, backtracked, ran in and out of whatever buildings they saw the Saved men coming from, but it was always no good. The angel was always gone before they got there.
"He's moving fast," Crowley observed as they left another hotel, empty-handed. "He's not even sticking in one place for more than a few minutes at a time. And I can't figure out how he's getting himself around, either. If he were flying, we'd be able to see him."
Every time they were back in the car, Theo would sit in the shotgun seat and dither.
Finally, in the wee hours just past midnight, as they passed by one last, low, old building, Theo suddenly sat straight up in his seat and gasped. "I think he's--!"
Theo never got to finish that sentence, because suddenly everyone in the car, everyone up and down the street, and pretty much everyone within a two-block radius heard the clear, distinct cries of a man screaming at the top of his lungs. "OH YES!! OH JESUS!! OH JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY!! OH GOD!!! OOOOOH GOOOOOOOD---!!!!"
Somebody had just made the mistake of screwing an angel in a room
with an open window. Which was really an extraordinary mistake to make, considering that it was in the middle of winter. It must have just been getting very hot in the room, we'll have to suppose.
Crowley slammed on the Bentley's brakes and wrenched the steering wheel into a nearby convenient parking spot that Theo was absolutely certain had not been there a moment before.
The door to the party suite would have been locked for anybody else on Earth, but not for Crowley. When he wanted a door to not be locked, it was simply just not locked anymore. Simple as that. Crowley threw open the door and burst into the room.
What he saw would have stopped his heart, had he been bothering to let it beat in the first place. "Angel, what are you DOING?!"
"Oh, hello, Crowley," the angel said, momentarily raising his head from where it had been otherwise occupied on the body of a beefy naked male wearing a sailor cap. He was one of at least half a dozen beefy naked males wearing identical sailor caps who were currently sharing the bed with Aziraphale. "I'm filling these nice young men with the Holy Spirit."
"Hey, who is this clown?" one of the sailors asked. The bodies of the sailors writhed and wriggled around each other as all of them turned to get a good look at the intruder. "Mr. Phale, do you know this guy? Did he come to make trouble?"
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "The very purpose of Crowley's existence is to make trouble. Really now, Crowley, is it too much for a fellow to ask for a bit of privacy?"
"Are you MAD?!" Crowley gasped. "Theo's miracle is still on the loose, all of Hell has been destroyed, your APPRENTICE has been kidnapped by the Devil himself and he's been waiting for your help all day, WE'VE been running around like mad trying to find you, and all YOU seem to be able to think about is your di--"
"This guy's nuts," one of the sailors growled. "Hey, cardigan!" he addressed the demon. "Either shut up and join in, or shut up and leave, and close the damn door behind you!"
"Oh, I'm leaving all right - and you're coming with me, angel."
"Oh, dear. I suppose you have a point." Aziraphale struggled to extract himself from the bodies of the others. "I'm terribly sorry, gentlemen, but it seems that there's a spot of trouble I have to attend to. So sorry to disappoint." His erection dissolved itself as quickly and as effortlessly as if he were willing it to do so without a second thought. Which he was.
"Wait!" One of them grabbed at Aziraphale's wrist. "Uh, can I call you sometime?"
"Just pray." Aziraphale blew him a small, lovely kiss. "Cheerio!"
There was a collective "aaaaaw" of protest from the bed, but nobody seriously tried to stop Aziraphale. He slipped back into his trousers and shirt, gathered up his coat and cap, and beamed happily at Crowley as they left the room. "My goodness, Crowley, you're looking sharp today! Did you cut your hair? It looks very nice, and I must say, it's about time, anyway. Wherever did your shades go?"
Crowley just shook his head in disbelief. "I knew it. You're gay."
"I am not gay."
"That what was THAT?"
"A very pleasurable group experience."
"They were all men!"
"Merely a coincidence."
"Would you Save a woman's soul that way?"
Aziraphale frowned for a moment, contemplating the question. "Oh, Crowley," he finally said. "That doesn't prove anything at all."
"And just what kind of tricks were you pulling in there, anyway?!"
"Dear boy, whatever do you mean?"
"I just saw you in there with your shirt off, and I know for a fact, mister, that your chest and stomach haven't looked like that since the invention of cheesecake." Crowley reached over and poked one accusatory finger into Aziraphale's soft gut. "Vanity, vanity, vanity. You were sinning up, down, across, and all over that bed!"
"Inside every fat person is a thin person just waiting to be set free," Aziraphale answered calmly. "And I was not, by any means, engaging in any practice as low as casting glamours. What you saw was my real body. Even if, er, only real in a temporary sense."
"I thought that miracles were strictly not for personal use. At least, that's the lecture that you used to always give to me."
"Oh, Crowley, I wasn't doing this for me. I was doing it for them. You know as well as I do that those humans enjoy it more with--"
"You unbelievable IDIOT!" Crowley wanted to pull his hair out with frustration. "You lousy, selfish, vain, incorrigible angel! While you were out indulging yourself all day, did you completely forget all about your--?"
"Oh, no." Aziraphale froze, his eyes widening with horror. His face slowly melted into the expression of someone waking from a pleasant dream and suddenly finding himself standing in the middle of a nightmare. "Oh, NO." Without warning, he reached out and clutched at Crowley's shoulder. "THEO!! I forgot all about Theo!! Crowley, what happened to him?!"
"I already told you! The boss took him--"
"WHAT?!"
"It's okay, it's okay! He's with us now. And he's safe, at least as long as that miracle's still on the loose, paradoxically enough. The boss is all good now, and he won't hurt Theo, but I do still worry about Pauline, and Theo seems to be in a bad mood about all of this--"
"Oh, no," Aziraphale moaned again. He let go of Crowley and seemed to almost swoon for a moment, then he steadied himself on his feet. "I can't believe it. I did it again. I failed that poor boy, this time again."
The Devil, Pauline, and Theo were waiting for them outside. Lucifer was lounging with his back against one wall of the building, holding Theo in front of him, gently but firmly resting one hand on Theo's shoulder, digging the tips of his fingers into Theo's soft flesh. Pauline leaned casually beside them, occasionally glancing around with disdain at the overly made-up and scantily-costumed humans that paraded in and out of the establishment.
Theo gulped. He was scared, really scared, although trying hard not to show it. Crowley had gone inside and left him alone, and Crowley was the only reliably "good" one in the Bentley's posse that Theo felt he could trust anymore. Sure, Lucifer seemed to have gone good and all, but he was fighting it - and he was trying very, very hard to fight it. Theo kept remembering the red glow of his eyes, and the fiery smoldering heat that had roared out of his mouth, when he had first spoken to him. And Pauline... Theo shivered. She was the most evil thing that Hell had left, and remembering what he had seen her do to poor Mr. Edwards (before Crowley had covered his eyes), Theo shivered again. He knew that he was still the hostage of these two lunatics, and he knew that he was, Crowley or no Crowley, still in a great deal of danger.
People passed them by without so much as a second glance at Theo, and Theo knew that a boy his age would normally have been an extraordinarily unusual sight, waiting outside a place like this, even in the company of adults. They were doing it again, Theo realized - those demons. Fixing things so that nobody thought to look at them or listen to them, or if they did, they forgot what they'd seen or heard a moment later.
Theo suddenly saw Pauline tense. "Angel," she hissed through clenched teeth.
Crowley was leading Aziraphale out toward them, Aziraphale dithering worriedly behind him. Theo's first impression was that Aziraphale looked just as Aziraphale-like as ever, completely without any sort of homicidal gleam in his eye, and he didn't seem to be carrying any knives or guns or rusty old cutting shears, and his clothes were free of bloodstains. Which were all good signs, so far.
The angel's eyes finally fell upon Theo, and they both lit up with immediate recognition - and worry, and fear. "Theo!" he cried out, rushing forward, pushing Crowley aside.
"I don't think so," Lucifer said coldly, suddenly digging his fingers painfully into Theo's shoulder and pulling the boy closer to him. Aziraphale halted, a few feet away from them, fear and confusion evident all over his open, angelic face. "Well, this is somewhat awkward," Lucifer continued, sounding honestly chagrined, as if he were embarrassed to be forced into playing the role of the villain, "but I'm afraid that I've taken your apprentice here as my hostage. By the way, nice shirt, and you can call me Lucifer. But let's be honest here, shall we? You're an angel, and I'm not supposed to normally be this nice to you, although at the moment, I am currently unable to stop myself. Anyway, I'm not so very nice that I've gone stupid, and I can assure you, I am still willing to do what needs to be done in order to bring as swift as possible an end to this current crisis. Which means that, in short, I can guarantee that your apprentice will come to substantial harm, should you not agree to cooperate with Pauline and I in the demands that we make of you. We can count on your cooperation, can't we, Mr. Aziraphale?"
Aziraphale actually took a frightened step backward. "I can't work for you. It's against the rules. I'd Fall for sure if I ever agreed to work for you."
"Don't think of it as working for me. Think of it as working with me." Lucifer smiled, showing his sharp teeth. "I've recently come to understand that you do so all the time with Crowley. This will be no different."
Fear and uncertainty still shone in Aziraphale's eyes, but he stood his ground firmly, and managed to ask quite calmly, "What sort of things do you want me to do?"
"Kill the miracle," Pauline answered. "Crowley tells us that you're good with human firearms. So you'll come with us to find the miracle, and then you'll shoot it. That's all we ask."
"And then you'll let Theo go?"
"Absolutely."
"Without any last-minute retaliations or changes of heart or any of that other devilish business? Pun intended."
"We've already lost a whole day searching for you," Lucifer growled, digging his fingers painfully into Theo's shoulder. Theo wiggled against his grip, but would not cry out. He could not cry out, for Aziraphale's sake. The idiot angel might agree to anything if he thought that Theo was in pain. At that moment, Theo both loved and hated his idiot angel, wanted to scream at him and cry out to him at the same time. Lucifer continued, "We have less than thirty-six hours to find the miracle and destroy it, before any changes that it has effected become permanent."
"All right," Aziraphale said, "All right. I'll help you." He turned to Crowley. "Now, do you know where to start looking for this miracle again?"
Crowley shrugged. "Dunno. We spent this whole blessed day concentrating on finding you."
"Er, sorry about that." Aziraphale scratched his head in consternation. "The thing is, though, I'd love to be able to help, but I don't have a gun anymore. It ate mine already, remember?"
"That's not a problem." Lucifer yanked Theo away from the wall and began steering him back toward the Bentley, parked a block away. "Come on, let's get moving again. Thirty-six hours and counting, that's all we have. And first, we need to get something large and preferably automated into that angel's hands."
Theo had feared that the miracle would have done the same thing to Aziraphale that it had done to the demons - that is, it would have turned a usually pretty good angel into an always perfectly evil angel. But, fortunately or unfortunately, the miracle seemed to have created a more unpredictable effect. Aziraphale was no more good or evil than he usually was - which is to say, he still seemed to be erring mostly on the side of good. What was different, however, was that all of his normal angelic inhibitions were gone.
When they were back in the car - Crowley at the wheel, Aziraphale in shotgun, and Theo squished behind the Father of Lies and his lawyer in the back - Theo made the mistake of asking Aziraphale just what he had been up to all day. Because Theo was still worried, and he wanted to know.
Aziraphale's eyes immediately lit up as he twisted around in his seat to answer Theo. "Oh, Theo, you would be so proud of me! I know how you're always saying that we ought to do more to have a direct effect upon human souls. Well, today, what between the orgies and all, I must have directly Saved just short of a hundred or so souls."
The Bentley roared through the streets, and Theo could see that Crowley was making every effort to concentrate his attention on the road. But the angel's words were hard to ignore, and Theo paled. "Uh-huh. That's, um, nice. Good. Good for you."
But Aziraphale kept going, his face lit up with excitement as he spoke. "I started with Paul and John, of course, but John was so very nice and splendid about the whole thing, and he introduced me to his friend William, who's a professional photographer and film director, you
understand, and he had a studio in his basement. We did some filming, which was really just so lovely, and he took some lovely pictures of me Saving some lovely men dressed in leather, and then I went downtown, and... oh, the whole day has just been so... so... lovely! Yes, that's the word for it. Lovely. And I've made so many new friends today. There's Mr. Brown who liked to wear the policeman's cap, and Mr. McPherson who just does some amazingly skillful things with his tongue - you should really meet with him sometime, Crowley, I'm sure even you'd be impressed - and the twins, Jim and John, who are really stunningly identical, nobody could ever tell them apart, but that didn't really matter to me, I Saved them both at one time. Mr. Holdings - oh, I mean, William, he's the charming young director I met, the friend with the video camera that I mentioned - said that I have a splendid future in this business. So what do you think, then? Personally, I think it's about time I found an honest way to make ends meet, what with the book store always in the red ink and all."
They drove on as the winter night deepened around them. Aziraphale continued to babble, and it seemed to Theo that practically every other word he said was either "charming" or "lovely" or "fellatio".
The lights of the city faded behind them.
"Where are we going?" Pauline finally asked.
Aziraphale glanced at Crowley and mouthed a name. Crowley nodded, although he looked embarrassed about it. "Oh, really?" the angel asked to confirm. Then he said, "It looks like we're going to pay Mr. Jefferson a visit. That's lovely, really. It's been so long since I've seen him."
"Who's Jefferson?"
"A mutual acquaintance," Crowley said dryly.
"He's a very devout believer," Aziraphale said admiringly.
"He's also a crazy old coot who lives out in the middle of nowhere and--"
"Oh, Crowley, I just realized. Do you think he'll be very upset that Armageddon was canceled? I mean, he did spend so much time and effort preparing for it, what with the fallout shelter, and all the stores of canned food, and such."
"I don't know. I don't particularly care for his type, but... He does have an awful lot of guns."
"Oh, yes." Aziraphale nodded. "Even I sometimes learn something new from this gentleman. He's quite the expert. And quite the collector, too."
"And he's the only crazy old coot around here that I know, who'll actually give up one of his babies if an angel in shining white robes appears before him and asks him for one."
"If the angel asks politely," Aziraphale clarified. "He's shot at me once before, because he thought I was the Devil in disguise. I think it had something to do with a comment I made about his state of personal hygiene. Or lack thereof."
The drive out to wherever Jefferson called home felt as if it were taking forever, at least in Theo's mind. This is taking too long, he thought grumpily, we should be concentrating every second that we have on finding the miracle right away!
Theo wasn't the only one growing antsy. He was sandwiched in the back seat of the Bentley between Pauline and Lucifer, and both of them seemed to be growing increasingly impatient as well. Pauline kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, and occasionally stabbing into Theo's calves with her pointed heels; Lucifer shifted back and forth in his seat, twiddling his thumbs. Crowley was concentrating on driving, and Aziraphale had long ago fallen silent and begun staring out at the black, night-darkened countryside as it screamed past them.
Theo could feel the tension building up between them. The others could feel it, too. Finally, Lucifer leaned over close to Theo and whispered, "Are we there yet?"
Theo shook his head. "Aren't you supposed to have, you know, patience, or something? I thought that being an evil overlord required patience."
Their conversation was getting loud enough to be heard by everyone in the car. Pauline glared at Theo and said, "We have patience. We're just not used to wasting our patience on frivolous, time-sucking pursuits when there's more important business to be attending to."
"We're not going to face any mutant miracles without getting armed first," Crowley said, rather loudly, from the front seat.
Great, Theo thought sullenly. It begins. Now's the part where we all start snapping at each other.
"Now, now," Lucifer said, nervously, "Let's not all start snapping at each other." He was, apparently, feeling hopelessly good again. "Isn't there something that we can do to cheer ourselves up now, some way that we can pass the time, and still have some fun? I know! Let's play a car game."
"This is not a time for games!" Crowley sounded aghast. "This is serious!"
"Crowley, there's never any time that isn't a good time for fun and games."
"You mean," Crowley snapped peevishly, "There's never any time for you that isn't a good time for fun and games. YOUR job is easy, your job has always been easy, all you have to do is sit around Down There and order other demons to do your work for you while you idle away the time playing fun and games with the souls of the damned--"
"Aha," said Pauline, "It appears that, under stress, these repressed feelings of yours are finally starting to leak out."
Crowley grumbled something not-quite-obscene under his breath. Theo could see Aziraphale staring at him curiously, yet still saying nothing. Theo was bewildered too, for a moment, before it began to dawn on him what was going on. Something about being back behind the wheel of his beloved car for an extended period of time was having some sort of miracle-reversing effect on Crowley. The longer and farther he drove, the more and more easily he seemed to be lapsing back into at least a pale, watered-down version of his former self.
Theo pondered this strange phenomenon for a moment, wondering if he should consider it a good thing, or a bad thing.
Lucifer, for his part, seemed to pause, and then began rummaging around inside his L.L Bean coat. He pulled out a tiny, black, leather-bound notebook. He opened it up and began flipping through the pages. "I'll have you know," he said stiffly, "that it's not always a fun job, being the Adversary, although it is a constantly demanding task. I am forced to seek sources of leisure and amusement, when and where I can. One of the ways I've been amusing myself over the years is by keeping track of a list of my all-time favorite, ah, discorporations, from my demons."
"You mean," Crowley frowned, "our deaths?"
"Yes. Your deaths, you could say. The funniest ones get written down in here. Sometimes I like to look back through this little book, when I'm feeling sad or depressed or just plain bored, and it never fails to put a smile on my face." He beamed at the back of Crowley's head. "I think you'll be pleased to know that one of your deaths is number four on my list of my top ten favorites."
Crowley's face turned a very interesting color of red. "Please don't tell me that's the one with the camel--"
"Yes, it is. That time a camel bit your head off. 443 B.C."
Crowley coughed.
"I remember that!" Aziraphale suddenly exclaimed (causing Crowley to turn an even deeper shade of red). "I was there. I told you, you stupid demon, it's a bad idea to whip and abuse animals, they always get you back in the end, but no, of course, you wouldn't listen to me, and one day I was standing talking to you and that awful camel that you were always so mean to just walked right up to us and very rudely and completely without warning just sort of chomped down on your--"
"--That's enough, angel!--"
"--It was horrible, he was spitting chunks of brain and skull all over the street--"
The Bentley swerved dangerously into the oncoming lane of traffic, and Aziraphale clamped his mouth shut. Crowley took a deep breath, and re-steadied the wheel. "I said, that's enough, angel," Crowley repeated, his voice a low, dangerous hiss.
"Hmph." Aziraphale crossed his arms across his chest in a sullen gesture that indicated that he did not intend to apologize. But he did, at least, shut up.
Theo noticed that now Lucifer was wringing his hands nervously, his gaze flickering back and forth from Crowley to Aziraphale. Oh, Theo realized with some surprise, It's as if he actually feels badly about causing them to fight.
As if confirming Theo's hypothesis, Lucifer began flipping back through the pages of the little black book, and then he said the one thing that he knew would placate Crowley and put him back into a good mood. "I think you'll also be pleased to note, dear Crowley, that your friend Duke Hastur currently holds the place of numbers one, two, and three on the top ten list."
At that, Crowley actually did brighten up. "Really? Hastur?"
"Yes. He has terrible luck, up here on the surface. It's as if he can't handle himself properly around heavy machinery at all."
An hour later, the Bentley was parked and idling on a gravel country lane, some distance away from a rustic old cabin, tucked in the middle of a lowland forest. At the moment, the Bentley was sans angel, with everyone else sitting patiently in the car, waiting for him to return from what he had assured them would be a very short errand.
Without warning, without even so much as a puff of smoke or a flash of light or a dramatic popping noise, Aziraphale suddenly re-appeared in the shotgun seat, cradling a Colt M4 Carbine in his arms. He immediately leaned over and hissed into Crowley's ear, "Drive!"
Without waiting for any other cues, Crowley gunned the accelerator and swerved the Bentley around.
Gun shots rang out from the direction of the cabin.
"What'd you say to him this time?" Crowley asked as the Bentley roared back toward civilization.
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I told him that he had beautiful eyes. And he started shooting at me!"
"You came on to him?!"
"...No."
"But you--"
"Okay, maybe, yes, just a bit." Aziraphale sighed. "There's just something about such a hardy, strong, muscular man with such a large collection of guns... And he's such a fan of the Book, too. I find that very attractive."
"Well, at least you stole a gun like you were supposed to."
"Crowley! I did NOT steal anything. I do not steal."
"Then how'd you get that thing?"
"I asked him politely if I could take one. He shot at me, and I took that as a yes."
Crowley glanced at him sideways. More specifically, he glanced at the gun. "That's, uh... That's..."
"It's standard military issue, but highly illegal for a civilian to possess, at least in this country," Aziraphale rattled off calmly. "I'm particularly fond of this model, however. It's compatible with all US and NATO rifle grenades, has an effective range of six hundred meters, and can be modified quickly and easily into a fully automatic--"
"You know what, angel? Forget I asked."
Lucifer had a pair of binoculars. Nobody bothered to ask him where they had come from.
He scanned the horizons on both sides of the car as the Bentley roared through the black night, traveling the country motorways with as much speed as Crowley dared, occasionally swerving to avoid small, furry, stupid creatures that wandered out onto the perilous pavement.
The mood in the car was tense, despite the soothing strains of Vivaldi that washed out from the Bentley's speakers.
Theo was feeling very squished, sitting between Pauline and Lucifer. He also felt very blind. The night was pitch-black, the moon was non-existent, and low-lying clouds concealed the stars from view. Theo knew that the demons could see in the dark, and Aziraphale seemed to be looking around alertly as if he could see at least somewhat, but Theo couldn't see a foot ahead of where the Bentley's headlights illuminated the road passing swiftly beneath them.
"Don't see it yet," Lucifer said, to anybody who was listening.
Aziraphale tapped his fingers along the barrel of his rifle, in tune with the music.
Theo finally cleared his throat and asked, "Hey, um, how do we know that the miracle is still anywhere around here?"
Silence from everyone else.
Theo took a deep breath and continued. "I mean, uh, it could theoretically be anywhere, right? I dunno why it would necessarily have to come back to this country, or even to this island, when it could be anywhere in the whole world right now."
"Oh, shit," said Pauline.
"No," said Aziraphale quite calmly, "I think that we'll find it soon, somewhere near us."
"How do you know?" Theo challenged him.
"I've got a hunch."
"Oh, that's good to know." Theo rolled his eyes. "I suppose this is the part where you tell me that you feel a great disturbance in the Force?"
Aziraphale ignored Theo's comment. "The first time we stumbled upon it," Aziraphale reminded him, "it was waiting for us at home, remember? It may have taken itself on a joyride through Hell, but these sorts of mutants, on the rare occasion that they survive this long, tend inevitably to be drawn back to their creators. I think the miracle will come back to us very soon."
"And I think you're bullshitting," Pauline countered coldly. "I've never heard that one before. Mutant miracles are drawn back to their creators? Give me a break."
Aziraphale shrugged. "A hunch, that's all." Then he turned to Crowley and said, "Why don't we turn off into the next town? We should position ourselves near more humans."
"Why?"
"Because, if we want to draw out the mutant miracle again, we need to attract it to our position with the prospect of fresh targets." Aziraphale smiled a very un-angelic smile.
Crowley shot him a look, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dark night. "I'm not going to put any innocent humans in danger. We have no idea what that thing might to do a human target, anyway."
"There's no danger," Aziraphale soothed him. "It's fast, but not as fast as a speeding bullet. All we need to do is draw it out into the open. I can take care of the rest. Trust me."
"You couldn't shoot it last time, you know. It was certainly a lot faster than you were last time."
Aziraphale appeared to almost rankle at the insult. "I was merely caught by surprise," he sniffed. "It won't happen again."
The sky in the east was growing lighter.
"We're almost down to twenty-four hours," Pauline reminded them.
"Then it's settled. We're getting off at the next ramp."
Theo listened to the demons and the angel bicker for a few more moments, but finally, the Bentley pulled onto an off-ramp. The sun was rising in the east, although its glow was masked and diffused by a thick covering of gray clouds. Theo shivered, suddenly cold for the first time that night, despite the fact that he was pressed between two hellishly hot bodies.
And then, Theo's stomach rumbled audibly.
Lucifer, also known as Abbadon, the Adversary, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit, the Father of Lies, the Great Red Dragon, the Tempter, and the Wicked One, glanced down at him and asked, "Goodness, was that your tummy?"
Theo blushed a miserable shade of red. "Yessir," he mumbled.
"He's not properly an angel yet," Aziraphale explained, "and as a former human, he still needs food and sleep." He reached back into the back seat, and laid one hand reassuringly on Theo's knee. "Poor dear, you must be starving."
"Then we'll get him some breakfast," Crowley said. "First place I see, I'm pulling in. Any objections?"
"We'd prefer a soulless corporate fast food establishment," Pauline said, "But whatever you find first, I suppose."
Continued.