"What the... hell," one of the cinema workers exclaims as he enters to check that everything is in order and finds... well, this.
Crowley lifts his head towards the voice, and there's the guy with a face of absolute astonishment between the movie, the couch, and... the activities they seem to have been doing.
"Fuck," Crowley mutters, separating himself and sitting up a bit, Aziraphale doing the same, clearing his throat.
"Uh... hello," a nervous smile towards the guy.
"But what are you doing? How did this happen? And the... movie!"
"Oh, indeed... this is pretty much what it looks like, yes," assures Aziraphale, thinking that Crowley is pretty much screaming in his face, yes.
Crowley renders the guy unconscious with a snap of his fingers and then makes the couch, the movie, and... everything else disappear.
"Oh, dear..." a sigh.
"I think... that's enough."
"But I haven't finished watching..."
Crowley looks at him, quite frustrated and annoyed. Aziraphale moistens his lips and takes a step towards him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes..." he's just angry.
"Well, this guarantees that... we might have to watch a movie some other time."
"Yes, well..." he sighs.
"I guess we can't go to the Ritz now..."
Crowley looks at him because that's exactly why he's angry. Not to the Ritz, not down the street, not to their homes, not to St. James...
Aziraphale shifts his weight, noticing how much they've been able to... do this with quite some freedom lately. And how much he's taken it for granted over the years.
"If we go to the Ritz, there'll have to be a serious assassination attempt."
"I think... we should stop dwelling on the serious assassination attempt and just do it," he approaches the unconscious guy and adjusts him a bit so he doesn't get a stiff neck.
"In fact, that's exactly what we needed to talk about."
"Instead of watching movies..." the angel sighs again.
"We'll have to make... sacrifices."
Crowley looks at him.
"The bookshop."
"What?"
"IF we have to do this convincingly... genuinely convincingly... we're going to have to do it in a way that doesn't seem like we're plotting it," Aziraphale explains, looking at the ground. Crowley blinks.
"What do you want to do to the... bookshop?"
"What do I want to do? Nothing. But these are desperate times, Crowley."
"We'll take the books out. Store them at my place and then bring them back." The demon shakes his head.
"And what if they're found? I've been... preparing a bit. I thought about asking Anathema... if she could perhaps store some."
"Who?"
"The girl from... the book."
Crowley looks at him with a... of course. Of course, of course... not.
"The one from Agnes Nutter's... Descendant's book. The one you ran over with the bicycle."
"Oh... Ah! The bike one, who ran me over. You should've said so before."
Eye roll from the angel.
"I want to talk to her to ask if there's anything... she remembers from the book. Beyond what she already helped us with. And with that pretext, I can take some of my... invaluable ones."
"But it was a book of prophecies about the end of the world, why would anyone bother to prophesize after that?" Crowley asks.
"The world didn't end..." Aziraphale looks at him sideways.
"But she didn't know or she would have said, 'Hey guys, the world is ending, but just kidding. Oopsie! Don't worry, in the end, the little Antichrist brat grows a pair and faces his dad.'"
"Yeah... yeah," the angel smiles a bit. "Actually, I know, I read the book. But if there's any indication that..."
"And you don't remember anything you read?"
"It's just... everything was so specific, Crowley."
"Alright, I suppose I could go with the same excuse," he sighs.
"Maybe I can try to kill you there..."
"I think it's like the plan of going with the witchfinder. It should seem like we stumbled upon each other."
"Right, right... I'd prefer to go together in the Bentley, definitely. Give him my regards."
Crowley sighs again, Aziraphale smiles at him.
"What's the plan then? Friday at the witchfinder's house?"
"I'll have to go get holy water again..." Crowley nods.
"No!" Aziraphale tells him very, VERY seriously.
"I can't say I'm trying to kill you with holy water and not GO FOR IT somehow."
"You can't go for holy water. The risk is HUGE. Pay someone to get it for you."
"What idea would they get from me, who supposedly isn't affected, PAYING someone to go in my place? Sacrifices have to be made."
"This isn't worth it."
"Aziraphale..."
"It's not worth it. You TOUCH it and you vanish forever!"
"I know. But I don't have to touch it... just pretend I do."
"Give me your hand. I'll switch bodies with you and do it." The angel looks at him completely anxious just with the idea.
Crowley looks at him and honestly, he doesn't like the idea of him doing that again in case Hastur catches him alone, but...
"I'll go there, I'll almost BATHE in holy water if you want, taking it with absolutely no care. Just like you would if you could."
"And how do we switch back?" he moistens his lips...
"We'll have to see each other... before. Sacrifice terribly to see each other before," don't make that happy face.
"Movie tomorrow afternoon?" Crowley smiles sideways.
He smiles a bit with that too, Lies Aziraphale! He smiles a LOT with that. Thanks.
"We have a deal... just... does your snake sense work in my body? I guess not..."
"If it doesn't work for me, it'll work for you."
"Something... I'll figure something out," Aziraphale moistens his lips. "Remember you can't do three hundred thousand miracles."
"Ugh... you... take care of the car. And don't even think about talking to my plants."
"The car thing is REALLY complex... there's a point where I tell it to just go however it can. Oh, come on... why?"
"Don't touch my car!" He squints his eyes even more.
"And how do you expect me to get around? Relax, okay? I'll... everything will be fine," he puts a hand on his arm.
Crowley looks at him worriedly and sighs, Aziraphale squeezes him a little.
"Come on... we did really well last time."
"Yeah... I know," he looks at him.
The angel smiles at him and gets a little closer, raising a hand to lift his glasses and look into his eyes.
Crowley closes his eyes, letting him, and the angel tucks the glasses into his hair, blushing a little because they're very close, damn it.
The demon laughs, raising his hands to help, and... after all this Armageddon business, not that everything has changed, no, but they have now a strange level of intimacy they didn't have before. When he raises his hands, he backs off a little.
"Well, in the end... we're going to see each other longer than we thought," Aziraphale jokes.
"Considering we were on vacation..." Crowley smiles.
"I'd go back to Las Vegas right now if we could," the angel smiles. "Although come on... here I don't have to hear you complain all the time."
"And I've saved myself fourteen times from magicians."
"I was just thinking we'd gone about ten. Oh... and the bed!" he remembers. "You haven't even been able to try it."
Crowley freezes with that.
"And it was nice, I'm sure you would have liked it... It seemed..." he hesitates, because he really doesn't know much about beds, but he can imagine what aspects you might like. "Soft and smooth... but firm at the same time. I'm sure it could have handled everything."
Crowley looks at him intensely, blushing and imagining he's talking about himself instead of the bloody bed.
"Um... I'm... sure."
Aziraphale notices the blush and tilts his head a little.
"Do you move a lot?" he muses. Come on, he obviously asks. But he tries to imagine him sleeping.
"Uh... I think so."
"Oh... well, that makes sense. Because you're usually so sprawled out and nervous all the time... I feel like you take up all the space."
"I guess," crowley shrugs, nervous.
Truth be told, Aziraphale thinks... he'd like to see him.
"We'll go on vacation when this is over..." the angel extends his hand.
"It's a deal," Crowley takes his hand. Aziraphale smiles a bit, nodding... and there goes the switch.
"Goodness... this... you're too flexible." Crowley protest.
Aziraphale moves his neck and arms trying to loosen up a bit.
"Try not to dislocate anything..."
"Don't exaggerate."
Crowley chuckles a bit... and tries to hiss lightly like the original sometimes does.
Aziraphale rolls his eyes, because he doesn't do that!
He sticks out his tongue as well and moves it a bit... with which Crowley might notice how much he pays attention to him and... his tongue. Come on, he's paying a certain amount of attention. I suspect he spent a good time playing with you last time.
"What are you doing?" Aziraphale raises an eyebrow seeing that.
"Uh... being you."
"I don't do that with my tongue," he smiles a bit.
"Yes, you do!"
"No way!"
"You were doing it with the glass at the bar the other day."
"But... there was a reason."
"Ah... right, well... yeah," Crowley clears his throat and straightens up. Aziraphale tilts his head looking at him and appraising him. "No, no... wait. To be properly judged by me, I have to do it right," he puts one leg forward and... moves his hip a bit.
The angel laughs.
"Walk is the most complex!"
"Alright, come here... last time you did it very well."
"Alright, alright... but it required concentration," and there he goes, doing it a bit exaggeratedly according to him. Aziraphale puts his hands on his hips.
"Follow me," he presses a bit to make him follow the movement. There he goes to move his hips imitating him... but it's just that seeing himself walking like that makes him laugh. "What? Come on, angel!"
"Well, what kind of walking is that, Crowley. Don't walk like that with my body, I look ridiculous!"
"It's... I'm not... ugh," Aziraphale straightens up and adjusts his bowtie.
"Very good, angel." Crowley smiles satisfied with that.
"Thank you, dear," he responds, lifting his nose with a bit of a smirk. Crowley laughs a bit, lowering his glasses.
"Well... I have to warn you. It's possible Gabriel might show up at some point."
"What the fuck? Don't fuck with me!" Aziraphale complains.
"Language!" the demon scolds.
"No, but... it wasn't part of the deal to deal with Archangel Fucking Gabriel again."
"Well, you might have to. Just as it's possible I have to deal with your... demons."
"I'd smash that stupid wanker's face in," Aziraphale imitates his face and rolls his eyes in exasperation. At least he admits that you like to swear with this voice.
"For God's sake, could you stop talking like that, dear. It doesn't do anything good." Crowley scolds him again.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. And what do I have to tell him?" the angel looks at him, frustrated.
"That you're working very seriously on something, and that soon you'll be able to do what he's asked of you."
"Alright, got it. 'Can't you see I'm bloody studying, you asswipe? That's what bloody people do when they have to solve a bloody problem that useless and incompetent idiots like you can't bloody solve, so stop bloody bothering me and let me bloody prepare.' Good. I got it."
The shock of hearing himself speak like that with his mouth open makes him look quite a bit like Crowley when Aziraphale says brilliant things.
Aziraphale blinks because it's a bit weird to see himself looking like that. I mean, surely he never makes that face.
Yes, you do, you do.
"Stop talking as if you were... you! Crowley!" Crowley scold him again.
"Alright, alright, calm down," Aziraphale laughs a bit anyway. "It's tickety boo"
"Anything else I should know? Come on... aside from talking to your plants lovingly."
"Don't talk to them! Don't even look at them. And give me back my phone."
"I can't give you YOUR phone, or they'll know something's odd."
"Ugh... but don't touch it."
"Is it going to ring?" Crowley looks for it, not even sure where he has it.
"Maybe, but let it ring."
"Last time it rang several times. More people talk to you than I thought..."
"Yeah, well..." the angel smiles a bit.
"I don't even know who they are... It said there on the cover random and weird words, not even names."
"Well, you... let it ring."
"Hmmm... Alright, I'll let it. But what if I want to mute it?"
"Here..." he's about to put it on silent.
"It's okay, it's okay. Leave it like that."
Aziraphale rolls his eyes, but alright, he doesn't insist. Crowley smiles at him a bit with one of those sweet smiles that don't quite come naturally to the demon.
"You're still as expressive in my body."
"Huh?" Aziraphale looks at him, raising his eyebrows.
"I can see every expression you make."
"Well... o-of course," he responds, not entirely sure if that's a good thing or... and then he looks him up and down. "You... I like you better as an angel."
Crowley meets his eyes with that declaration and blushes, why would he say no?
"I-I..." he'd pretend to give a sharp and witty response, but this time he's left momentarily speechless. Again with the half-comical look of surprise.
"Come on, let's go. Do you go out first or do I?" Aziraphale smiles and winks at him.
"Ahem... You, you go out," the wink doesn't have much effect... although he makes a mental note to wink at Crowley like that someday, he nods his head. "I'll stay here a bit."
"Alright," he takes a breath, shoulders back with his back straight, and tries to walk with as little movement as possible, hands behind his back. "Ciao!"
"That's your thing!" scolds Crowley watching him go and he smiles anyway... because they've seen each other and it's been as it's been and... Ugh! The boy. He turns to him.
Aziraphale squints because that was thoughtless and leaves anyway. The boy remains paralyzed.
Alright, alright. Crowley sits in a chair and waits a bit to make sure Aziraphale has left before reviving him.
The boy blinks, waking up a bit confused, looking around.
"Are you okay, kid?"
"I-I... they were..." he looks at the screen. "Sounds of music..."
"Huh? You must have hit your head hard."
"F-Fall?"
"You came in here and passed out. Maybe you should see a doctor... although you already look much better now," the demon smiles at him.
"I-I don't remember..." he continues to be super confused, looking around.
"Yeah, I can imagine. Come on, I'll help you if you want to go out and get some fresh air," very demonic all this, Crowley.
"Um... yes, yes... thank you."
He offers him a hand to help him up, the boy takes it, bringing his hand to his head because he remembers weird things, but it doesn't hurt.
"Maybe your sugar dropped or something... come on, you'll feel better outside."
The boy blinks, because this man in black, wearing sunglasses in the MOVIE THEATER, with red hair doesn't seem like the type of person who's so attentive and kind, but it's clear that you can't judge by appearances. Exactly, exactly. Ahem... Crowley gives the boy gentle pats on the back.
"I have to go, kid. Drink lots of water and... maybe a pill."
"Thanks," he nods and smiles a bit.
He smiles back, though he tries to do it with one of those gestures of Crowley's that he likes so much, touching his glasses a bit and tilting his head, and he blushes a lot because it wasn't his intention to do it to the boy. He turns, walking to the exit as Crowley-like as possible.
The boy watches him and tilts his head a bit. What a pity that such a kind man has a limp. He must have some disease in his spine. It's clear that the ways of the Lord are inscrutable.
As soon as he steps outside, he puts a hand on his belt, scrutinizing everything with a sideways smile. The truth is that while he wouldn't want to be Crowley all the time, it's quite amusing to be him just for a while. This attitude of taking on the world and truly doing whatever the hell he wants was... so foreign to him, it was Crowley's bread and butter... let's say having it for a while was a guilty pleasure.
Uh... yes, of course, that's exactly how it is. Ahem.
Oh come on. Now they're going to try to convince us that he doesn't do exactly what he wants? Pff...
No, no... Of course he does. All the time.
Let's say he does it more directly than Aziraphale. That poor Aziraphale who never does anything he wants.
You're the only one who thinks he's so cool with that carefree attitude...
For him, he's THE COOLEST. Anyway, he probably won't take long to find the car. Crowley assumes it's parked right in front, RIGHT in front of the door. Right where it shouldn't be.
Can you park anywhere else? Fine included.
Yes, of course there are thousands of other spaces! Crowley takes the fine and throws it on the ground in a dramatic gesture, opening the car with a snap... without any other option. There are no keys for this car or what?
No, of course not, why? For practical purposes, this is the CORPSE of a car, it moves by miracle.
To enable the angel, now demon to perform this without resorting to suspicious miracles:
"Hello, dear..." Crowley greets as he gets in, squinting because that shouldn't be the case.
If the Bentley could blink, it would.
He clears his throat and snaps again to start it up.
It starts up, of course, and plays Crowley's Spotify playlist. It should be playing "Another One Bites the Dust" by U2, but instead, it plays "Love Me Do" by Pink Floyd. Because this Crowley doesn't... no. Something's off. Then it will play "Yesterday" by Led Zeppelin, "Yellow Submarine" by The Police, and... "Eleanor Rigby" by Depeche Mode.
He tries to accelerate quickly as Crowley would. And no... no. It starts up smoothly.
"Oh, come on!"
I'm sorry.
"Bloody... Uhm... hell. Car! If you want to keep having an owner, you better be more convincing!"
Nevertheless, it doesn't move, it's just idling there smoothly.
He rolls his eyes and presses the accelerator hysterically to the floor.
"You know I love youuuu, I'll always be truuuue, so please, love me doooo" The Bentley starts to move cautiously.
"Is this some sort of subliminal message? What are you trying to tell me? Jesus Christ!" Crowley protests.
"Loooove, love me do. You know I love youuuu, I'll always be truuuue, So pleeeeeease, love me dooooo" It moves forward slowly.
"But you're so stubborn! As if... as if..."
The song ends and another one starts, still moving slowly.
"You think you've lost your loove. Well, I saw her yesterday-ay. It's you she's thinking of and she told me what to say-ay. She says she loves you and you know that can't be baaaaad"
"Clearly, they don't want me around.
"Yes, she loves you and you know you should be glaaaad."
"What do you want! Speed up and I'll give you whatever you want!" he blushes a bit, thinking about... this matter of her liking him and him should be happy.
"She said you hurt her so, she almost lost her mi-iind. But now she says she knows you're not the hurtin' kiiind"
"Thank you. We're going to... the cathedral. So... hurry up! Without running over anyone, please."
Why do you think it knows where that is? The issue here is forward, backward, right, left, still moving slowly forward.
"You are a TERRIBLE car!"
"She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah."
"You've gone too far! You've gone too far! It was to the left!"
"Waaah!" He brakes a bit abruptly.
"You know it's up to youuu. I think it's only fa-aiiir. Pride can hurt you, too. Apologize to heeer."
"Could you stop doing weird things?! I don't know what you're doing... look, I really want her to be here too, but if you help me, we'll... get there. Just... start again and go full speed ahead and turn left at Strand! Is it so complicated!? You have to follow the instructions."
The engine makes a protesting noise and the song skips back a bit.
"Pride can hurt you, too. Apologize to her."
"Alright, I'm sorry Bentley!" Crowley squints.
"She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah. With a love like that, you know you should be glad."
The Bentley starts again... slowly, without turning unless Crowley makes it turn with the steering wheel or warns it, it doesn't know where Strand is. Crowley smiles a bit and pats the seat.
"It's the next one. Could you go faster, for the love of Go... S-Satan?"
It accelerates a bit more and turns carefully at the next one.
"You've seen how... Ugh! You have to drive properly! Crowley doesn't drive like this!"
"Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody. Help, you know I need someone, heeeeeelp"
"Yes, yes, we all need Crowley!"
"When I was younger, so much younger than today. I never needed anybody's help in any way. But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured. Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the dooooors."
"Do you really make him ponder like this every time he gets in the car?"
"And now my life has changed in oh so many ways. My independence seems to vanish in the haze. But every now and then I feel so insecure. I know that I just need you like I've never done before"
"Plus, damnably accurate," he squints.
"Help me if you can, I'm feeling dooooooown... And I do appreciate you being roooound... Help me get my feet back on the ground... Won't you please, please help meee-e"
"That's what I'm trying! Not to kill him, nor to be killed by him... and to have the normal life we had until now, darling. Neither more nor less. But... they've gone mad up there."
"Love, love, love. Love, love, love. Love, love, love"
Crowley blushes and the Bentley stops in front of St. Paul's.
"There's nothing you can do that can't be done. Nothing you can sing that can't be sung. Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game. It's eaaaasyyyyy."
"I would rather say hate, hate, hate, hate towards us," he pauses. "And n-No, it's not that easy!"
"All you need is love. All you need is love. All you need is love, love. Love is all you need."
"You know perfectly well it's not... well, or that I PARTICULARLY want him..." he clears his throat.
"Nothing you can make that can't be made. No one you can save that can't be saved. Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time. It's easyyyyyyy."
"No, it's not easy! It's not easy at all!" he insists in his fifth therapy session with the car. "But if moreover... lately... well, there's nothing more that..."
"All you need is love. All you need is love. All you need is love, love. Love is all you need."
Suddenly, someone knocks on the car window, startling him. It's a police officer.
"You can't park here, sir."
"Oh... of course n..." he hesitates and moistens his lips. "Of course I can park here, idiot!"
"Excuse me?"
"Of course I can, how are you going to stop me?"
"How am I going to stop you?" the officer frowns. "By giving you a ticket!"
"A ticket... oh, let me laugh. Give me all the tickets you want," he opens the car door almost on top of the officer. "I would advise you... do you really have to start every sentence like that?"
"What are you saying? Do you want me to arrest you?"
"Just don't mess with him. In fact, it would be best for you to, um, get out of here."
"That's it, you're under arrest!"
"Don't you feel a... sudden thirst? Craving for a drink?"
The police officer stares at him. Crowley is... hesitating, because this is hard for him.
"Come on, think of a shot. It would do you good."
"Well, quite a joker... come with me," he doesn't smile even half. The demon moistens his lips.
"You WANT alcohol today," and now he does a certain... gesture. He even looks like a Jedi. The man blinks, because he would definitely take a beer. He moistens his lips.
"Don't force me to handcuff you!"
"Come on, I'll buy you a beer... you won't regret it," do you really want to be LESS like Crowley, darling?
"I'm on duty and you're under arrest!" he shouts even more irritable, grabbing his wrist and handcuffing him.
Crowley rolls his eyes a bit, also thinking that if he saw him... the real Crowley would be peeing himself with laughter right now, so... he bites his lip. The police officer gives him a shove to walk towards the car.
"Excuse me, good man..." he whispers... and snaps his fingers leaving him virtually like a zombie. "See? You could have gone for a drink, but no... now, you stay here to look after my car." Oh... and snaps again to remove the handcuffs looking around because he NEVER does this kind of miracle. Never!
Are you going to leave him as a zombie looking after the car!?
Yes. It's something horrible and evil that a demon would do.
"Oh, good man. Do you have a police thermos or a canteen or something that... I could use for a liquid?"
"There's a bottle of water in the car..." the officer replies with a flat voice and a vacant look.
"Could you bring it to me, please?" he smiles.
He nods, going to fetch it with a glassy-eyed gaze.
Crowley shifts his weight because this is the most unorthodox and infinitely more complex than parking where you should.
It's not so difficult if you do it right.
Yeah, yeah... I would need to practice a bit more. There he waits for the man leaning on his car, with an attitude of "I don't care". Ahem... with the radio on. Anyway, he already did miracles in a row that he shouldn't have done, so what does it matter if it's two or two hundred.
You've always been told that. What do you want? More therapy?
Yeah, yeah, we know he always says that, but... he usually keeps it cool. The thing is, in this body it's impossible. He wants... to look cool. There, parked. With the sunglasses. Leaned on the car. He doesn't understand, he really doesn't understand how Crowley doesn't usually have fifty people fainting around him. He's so handsome!
And suddenly from the radio...
"You look like an angel. Walk like an angel. Talk like an angel. But I got wiseeeee... You're the devil in disguise. Oh, yes you are. The devil in disguise"
"Okay, shut up car! Come on!"
"What the fuck!" he protests, bending down to look at the radio through the window.
Those swear words... It took him quite an effort to say them... We were hoping for something more PG. The Bentley keeps on singing.
Well, look at what it's singing! It's worthy of a fuck after all! Here comes the man with the water bottle.
"Car, shut up! What if someone sees!" he continues to argue with half of his body inside the Bentley, trying to turn off the radio. Honestly, the real Crowley is missing out on something quite amusing.
Wish he could be there. Finally, the song stops when he turns off the radio poking around, and... when he sees the policeman, he sticks his head out and might even hit it. Angel, you're a mess. The police officer remains a zombie, so there's no change in expression. He rubs his head and looks at him.
"Damn it," he hisses in protest.
"This is my bottle," he hands it over.
"Thank you. Um... now, please take care of my car until I return," he takes it from his hand and heads straight for the church.
He nods.
"If it starts raining... you can take shelter and keep an eye on it from afar," he adds, emptying the water that's already in there.
He nods again.
"Thank you," he smiles and starts walking towards the church, making the BEST hip movement he can.
