To the Victor
It still bugged Dagon that there had been no war. Beelzebub and Gabriel took off for parts unknown (actually, they were touring every tourist attraction in North America), leaving Crowley as the target of Dagon's ire. When complaining, yet again, to Shax, Dagon got some information they thought they could use to get Crowley.
"I always thought Crowley and Rictus would end up together. They're both annoying, sarcastic, and obsessed with their appearance. They're also the only two demons that bathe." Shax sat on her desk, filing her nails to a talon point. She and Furfur had an afternoon meeting, and she wanted him to have scars from it. "Ric has been looking rather sad at the Beetle Battles lately. Keep an eye on him and see if you can find something useful there." Dagon hopped out of the chair, rubbing their hands together like the gleeful villain they enjoyed being and left the office.
Rictus was nicknamed the Beetle Baron. His other form was a swarm of beetles, like Hastur's had been maggots. His earthly form was clean, sleek, and shiny. He kept his dark hair slicked back and collar length. At 6 feet, he was above average height, but his body was broad. With his black suit and tie, above ground, he would have been mistaken as a Mafioso bodyguard. He kept spotless while herding, feeding, and sweeping up beetles by using the majority of his miracle allotment, but the intimidation factor was worth it. Occasionally, he'd show up as concert security at the O2. (not an actual worker, but no one dared question him when he stood by the stage).
Beetle Battles were held once a month. Ric would make 2 identical items of compostable material. A swarm of 500 beetles per item would be dumped in the pit with the object and the demons bet on which team would win. There would be 5 rounds per event. Dagon went to the beetle barn, an underground cavern where beetles were kept. Its access to all human landfills made it ideal for beetle wrangling. Rictus was putting the finishing touches on two replicas of the Coliseum, made of expired spam. He waved to Dagon, then indicated the sculptures. "I was Champion there for 5 months." He crossed his arms and stood with a proud stance.
Dagon punched Ric's flexed bicep, impressed. "I went to some of the Games. No small feat, that. What ended it?"
"Christianity", Ric deflated a little and turned to Dagon. "some fool got their spear blessed before they entered the arena. One scratch, and I discorporated." He moved over to the two poodles made from vegetable scraps. "What does Shax want?"
Dagon was a horrible bluffer, which is why they seldom won the poker game. "Shax didn't send me. She just suggested I come and see if you had thought of someone to take Crowley's place in the Blue Moon game."
Ric sighed and looked at the two black serpents he had fashioned from congealed grease. "No one can replace Crowley. They're either scared of one of us already in the game, or too stupid for us to waste our time. Remember, we never could find a replacement for Ligur. I miss them both."
Dagon thought they heard some emotion in that. The serpents alone showed that Ric still thought of Crowley. "I wish Shax and Eric got along better, he's funny and smart, but he probably counts cards."
"We all count cards. You coming to the battles tomorrow?"
"I hope so. I want to see that go down." Dagon pointed to the models of the Mumbai coastline. "I guess I'll go report to Shax. She's always afraid you'll make a sculpture of her." Dagon couldn't sustain a bluff, but was very good at little lies. They left the arena.
Ric looked at one of the serpents. "You'd know what that was about, wouldn't you? Oh well, I'm still in one piece, so it's nothing to worry about till it happens."
Whenever there was a 2nd full moon in a month (a 'blue moon'), a group of the cleverer demons would meet up for a poker game. They used chips for betting throughout the game, but money had little value; the real currency was humiliation. The overall winner was allowed one dare to their choice of the other players. It could be a single event, or an affectation that had to be endured until the next game. While humiliation was the point, it was never enough to keep the demons from returning for the next game. Their chance would come.
Crowley and Rictus were usually the victors, but occasionally Dagon, Shax, or Asmodeus would win. Crowley's unfortunate disco mustache was due to a poker loss to Rictus. Dagon had been made to do their Churchill voice whenever in a meeting with another poker player present. Asmodeus had to stay celibate for one interval, but he smote so many underlings out of frustration that no one tried that again. Next time, he had to give Shax a pedicure. Ric had run the beetle games in a pink tutu and costume fairy wings. Shax had to dress as a mascot and pose with tourists for a day during the London Olympics. It was understood that nothing should cause permanent damage to the target or the spirit of the game.
Crowley had been absent since his partnership with Aziraphale had been pronounced by God. They tried to replace him, but they couldn't find anyone that was clever, witty, AND willing to accept the consequences if they lost. Shax decided to allow Crowley to return, under the guise of "information mining". It was the topic at tonight's game, as the group was packing up:
"Gives a new meaning to the term "wank wings", Asmodeus growled.
"That thought is disgusting, and that's saying a lot, with our standards." Dagon forced down the rising bile that came with the thought. They had won the pot tonight and still couldn't think of a proper dare or victim.
"It gives him a perspective we don't have down here." Rictus rationalized.
"and information we can exploit. You know Crowley- just get him bragging and something will slip out." Shax brushed some ash off her hat before pinning it back in place. "Rictus, you and Crowley seemed to be less antagonistic than the rest of us; make sure he gets the message before the next game."
"I'd rather not." Rictus was grabbing the leftover snacks to feed the beetles.
"Still pining for that 'angel-lover'? You're better than that." Dagon pushed. They had always been jealous of Rictus and Crowley's 'friendship'.
"No. I miss hearing him verbally eviscerate you and how our combined 'trash talk' elevated the sophistication of the game. It's challenging to carry that load by myself." Ric tied off the bag of beetle scraps and smirked at Dagon.
Asmodeus laughed and pointed at Dagon, "remember when he said you were a 'boiled goose in failed court regalia"? I still think of that whenever I see a goose."
Dagon glared daggers at Asmodeus, "I am ready to announce the Dare." They pointed at Rictus, "Ric, when you let Crowley know he's back in the game, you must also declare your Lo-ove and attempt to woo him back to Hell with you!" they looked over the table to Shax, who nodded in agreement with a satisfied smile.
"Ric and Crowleyyyy, sittin' in a treeeeee….." Asmodeus started to taunt the Beetle Baron.
Rictus rolled his eyes, but inside he was nervous. Did he have romantic feelings for Crowley? They had the same sense of humor and sometimes went to concerts together. He enjoyed being 'mates', but had never considered being "Mated". He decided this was ridiculous and knew Crowley would laugh it off. "I accept the dare, goose. One of your weaker ones, I'd say."
Aziraphale and Crowley were sitting at a chess table in the park, planning their trip that afternoon to tea at the cottage in Tadfield. "The Pulsifers, the Them, possibly Shadwell and Madam Tracey- ten people are a lot for that cottage. I suppose we should get at least two boxes; we said we'd bring the pastries." Aziraphale looked across the lawn to see if the bakery was open.
"The kids will run outside once they're fed. We? I don't recall agreeing to that, Angel. We?" Crowley stared at the pigeons, daring them to approach. He was practicing the miracle required to make his serpent eyes reappear. He enjoyed his improved vision, but sometimes missed the added menace the slitted gold eyes provided. The pigeons were sufficiently intimidated, moving on to the next bench, where Crowley had miracled a few chips to console them. "I am thrilled to be 'Us' but didn't know I'd given up my right to an opinion."
"Dear, do you really have an opinion on pastries? I thought I was saving you from things you- what was that charming phrase? "Couldn't give a damn" about?" Aziraphale could return Crowley's volley with equal bitchiness. "You know how far 'We' can stretch this stupidity when 'We' get in this mood." He made sure the pigeons had some healthy feed in addition to the chips. He traced small circles on Crowley's wrist, just above his watch. "Don't 'We'?"
Crowley scowled at Aziraphale with his serpent eyes. "Yes. We. Do." He then softened his expression and blinked back to his russet eyes. "Point taken." He flipped his wrist and squeezed the Angel's hand. "Plenty of time to figure this out."
Aziraphale squeezed back, then stood. "The shop is open. Aren't you coming? Don't I need 'your opinion' on the pastries?" he asked with a teasing simper.
"No, I trust your, ahem, elevated palate. I need to stay here and practice. Adam thinks Dog can outstare me. Challenge accepted!" Crowley brought back his serpent eyes, winked at Aziraphale, then glared at a confused squirrel.
"Of course, dear." Aziraphale hummed as he walked towards the bakery.
Crowley sensed another demon in the area before he saw Ric. He pulled himself into his favorite defensive posture, looking both unbothered and menacing. When he saw it was Ric, he relaxed…a little. "Rictus! What brings you to town on a…", checking his watch, "a Saturday morning! Did we have concert plans?"
"Crowley." Ric said in greeting. "No, I've been chosen to bring you a message from Shax. You're back in the poker game."
"You can't be serious. How do I know it's not a trap? How do I know THis is not a trap?" Crowley stood and put the chess table between him and Ric.
"Crowley, you know the game has had a miracle block on it since Asmodeus set Ligur's toad on fire. I swear, I will defend you if something goes down. Besides, you know Dagon can't bluff, and would give away anything premeditated before we cut the cards."
"I suppose. I'd need a guarantee that any dare would not involve nor affect the Angel." Crowley glanced at the bakery but was confident that Aziraphale would have to sample half the store while making his choices.
"I'll send you that in writing before the next Blue Moon."
"I have missed the game. Who won last time?"
"Dagon."
"You got the dare?"
"I did."
"Was this invitation the dare – to see if I'd attack you?"
Rictus shook his head. "Well, you do have easy access to holy water. But no, the dare is an easy one, at least for me." However, he was starting to look uncomfortable.
"Which is?" Crowley was curious.
Ric took a breath, and then looked Crowley in the eye. "I have to persuade you to come back to Hell with me."
"Now? No Blue Moon for at least 8 weeks. No need to go now." Now, Crowley was really curious.
"Not with me. WITH Me." Rictus mumbled the next bit, "Declare my feelings and get you to dump the angel."
"FEELINGS?!" Crowley was silent for a moment. Slack-jawed in thought 'this sssuckssss….". He didn't want to lose one of the few 'friends' he had in Hell. "Listen Ric, you're one of the few down there that I respect, but Aziraphale and I are Everything to one another. Sorry dude, that's a firm NO." He shook his head as if clearing it of cobwebs, "since when do demons have Feelings?"
"Since you, Crowley. Wouldn't it be easier to be paired with a demon? We have fun whether we're messing with the humans above, or the demons below. I don't remember a time we didn't have a good time." Ric sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Crowley.
"Until This Moment." Crowley suspected that Dagon had put this idea in Ric's head. "Yes, I'll agree, we're friends." He sneered on that word, not a comfortable word with anyone but his Angel. "A rare thing down there. Maybe that's why you mistook it for something else. Rictus, have you ever thought about us together – 'that way'? Really?"
"Well, notreally." Ric was blushing and moving fast from embarrassed to enraged. "Not Ever! Ugh, sorry 'bout that dude."
Crowley leaned over the table and whispered to Ric, "Then tell Dagon you tried, but I was too stupid to fall for it."
"They'll need more than that to be convinced. We might have to fight." Ric whispered back.
Crowley saw Aziraphale exiting the bakery. "I think we can make a scene, and the Angel will play along. Time to make your declaration more…. Robust. Got it?"
Rictus stepped back with a smirk on his face. His words and actions got much more dramatic. He gestured towards the approaching angel, "But he's a fop!"
Crowley stood taller. "He's not a fop! It's just his fashion sense never progressed past the Victorian Era."
"But you should be with someone who is fit and strong. He looks like an amalgamation of Dr. Who's."
Crowley put his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Why? I'm strong enough, and for your information, he is stronger."
The demon and the former demon glared at each other as Aziraphale walked up, swinging his pink shopping bag. "They had some fresh shortbread and eclairs, so I chose a variety…." He turned towards Rictus but directed his words to his partner. "Crowley, why is this demon here?"
"Ric thinks I'll be happier in Hell with him." Crowley winked at Ric and gave him a reassuring nod. Ric stood in his best gladiator pose.
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows quizzically, pursed his lips slightly, and looked skeptically down his nose at Rictus. "Really?" the angel said in a condescending tone. He turned to Crowley and patted his shoulder. "Whatever you want, Dear." He returned to face Ric, adding just a touch of smugness to his expression.
This was what Crowley affectionately called Aziraphale's 'Queen Bitch' face. It revealed the full power of his Angel and Crowley loved that face when it wasn't directed at him. Seeing the fire in those blue eyes, Crowley knew that Aziraphale was in the mood to play, so he laid the groundwork for some fun. "Rictus thinks you aren't "Man Enough" for me."
"You have angelic DNA, darling. No "Man" would be 'enough' for you." Aziraphale sensed that Crowley was up to some amusement to discourage this demon without discorporation. "Did he change your mind?"
Crowley looked skyward and tapped his chin. "I'm still deciding". He mouthed to Ric "you're on".
Ric sneered at Aziraphale, "No demon would want something as 'dainty' as you. Crowley deserves someone who matches him in both wit and strength." He took a box from the pink bag and in one motion, flattened the box between his hands.
Aziraphale looked at the cloud of powdered sugar and sighed. "Such a waste of human effort. Which was that - Wit or Strength? Mr. Rictus, I can tell that Crowley has some respect for you, otherwise you'd have been destroyed before I left the bakery. Therefore, I shall refrain from sending you back to Hell in the same condition you have rendered these eclairs." He snatched the box from Ric and restored the pastries before returning the box to the shopping bag.
Crowley, afraid this might escalate beyond play, laughed, startling the others. "I've decided!" he announced. "A test of strength." Aziraphale looked surprised for a moment, which Ric mistook for fear.
Rictus laughed, "Excellent. Wrestling, boxing, or cage match?" He winked at Aziraphale – "I was a Champion in the Coliseum."
Crowley waved his hands, "Nothing like that; we're more civilized, aren't we? I choose Arm Wrestling - with no unearthly "enhancements".
"If we must…." Aziraphale had already removed and folded his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves.
Ric threw his jacket on the ground and sat at the chess table. "This won't take long." He looked at Crowley, "I thought we'd check out the new volcanic eruptions in Iceland for our first date."
Aziraphale turned to Crowley, each checking the other's eyes for a glimmer of mischief. "He is more civilized than most demons. I see why you haven't killed him yet. He even has a sense of hygiene." The angel sat at the table across from Ric, "You'll need to rethink your plan. We were together at Vesuvius; Crowley doesn't care for volcanoes. Better yet, you need to forget any plans with Crowley at all."
Crowley placed a small miracle block on the area, and a stealth charm, so no one would see them and get curious. The combatants placed their elbows on the table and clasped hands. Crowley placed his hands over theirs, giving both a reassuring squeeze. Please let this go better than my other plans, he thought. "Ready. Set. Go!" Crowley stepped back, rapidly thinking through the scenarios and preparing for what came next.
Ric had Aziraphale by about a quarter of the distance in the first ten seconds, then Aziraphale changed his expression from a grimace to a determined glare. Ric's expression changed from confidence to "unholy crap – this dude's strong!" Crowley giggled silently. Aziraphale gradually overcame and eventually flattened the straining demon's arm against the table. The entire match was about 50 seconds total.
"Wahoo!" Crowley kissed the top of Aziraphale's head and did a little dance before taking a seat beside a gaping Ric. "Aziraphale doesn't match me in wit and strength; he surpasses me. You've been deceived by his camouflage, forgetting he was built to guard Eden." Aziraphale beamed at his friend's praise and sat up proudly.
Ric looked disappointed, but showed why Crowley held him in regard, extending his hand to Aziraphale. "To the Victor go the spoils." The angel shook the hand offered. "Thank you, Ric. I do hope you find someone to appreciate you."
"Me too." Ric stood and picked up his jacket. He turned to face Crowley and with a wink, he shrugged and said "I had to take my chance. Will I see you at the Blue Moon games? They're dull without you to trade quips with."
Crowley stepped forward to shake his hand. "I'll be there. So long Ric." Then he whispered, "thanks for letting the angel win".
Ric whispered back "'letting' – like hell! He really beat me." He patted Crowley's shoulder, and said loud enough for Aziraphale to hear, "I can't wait to see what you plan for Dagon's dare." He waved at the angel, "too bad I can't invite you to the games. So long!" The demon dissolved into a pile of beetles that seeped into the ground.
Aziraphale stood and reassembled his wardrobe. Crowley stretched leisurely and removed the block and the charm. "And that was the Beetle Baron. C'mon Angel, we'll be late to Tadfield."
"Not the way you drive." Aziraphale straightened his tie. "How did you know?"
Crowley chuckled. "I know how heavy those books you lift are. Ric is a beetle wrangler." He took his Angel's hand. "Besides, you won my heart several thousand years ago."
They walked back to the flat, where the Bentley was parked. Aziraphale nudged Crowley. "He seemed decent enough, for a demon. Maybe I should set him up with someone."
Crowley nudged back. "Too soon Angel. I'm not that easy to get over."
"Smart Ass." Aziraphale walked to his side of the Bentley and opened the door, placing the bag in the back.
"Language, Angel!" Crowley said, clutching his tie in mock surprise. "After a few poker games, I'll take Eric with me. He might be pithy enough to attract Ric's interest. And it will irritate Shax." He got in the car.
"A Win-Win", Aziraphale smiled and got in the car.
Crowley smiled back and started the car. "Let's Roll; Tadfield awaits!"