"And you're going to work with me all day to make up for the time I've lost," Beelzzebub points at her and walks out.
"What? But..." Crowley follows, nonetheless.
"And shut up."
Crowley glances at her and then dramatically throws her head back, silently making a scene.
"Do you suffer? Good."
"What? Nah, nah... I'm fine. This was the thrill of my life," she's so sarcastic.
"Sometimes even in hell one gets lucky," Beelzebub glances at her.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure," she scoffs a bit and then thinks about the mission to seduce Aziraphale and can't help but smile a bit.
"You'll be here all day. All day locked up here, but when you get out, you can go see him."
"My lord?"
"Yes?"
"Meaning... uh, whom?"
"Well, the angel."
"Ah. Mmm... Thank you, I guess. I-I'll... I'll do it."
"Thank you?"
"For... giving me permission?"
"For allowing it. Well, you don't really enjoy it... or do I?
"No, no. But I'd prefer anything on the surface to work down here, even if it's that."
"Well, you better do it right, or I'll put you to work down here all the time. I want good information."
"Of course. And that's why I need some alone time with him."
"Well, that's fine by me."
Crowley moistens her lips because she was arguing again about the issue of the partner.
"Hold on, I'll dictate to you."
Crowley sighs and goes to do what she says, and Beelzebub reconsiders.
"One question..." the prince of hell decides, before getting into that, because she needs to discuss it with someone, and of all the useless ones, she seems to be the most appropriate. She looks at her. "Does the angel usually say things to you... with double meanings?"
"Like what?" the redhead raises an eyebrow.
"Like saying that if you're going to fucking kill him, you might as well do it without the kill."
Crowley raises both eyebrows with that and blushes a bit imagining Aziraphale saying that to him. Yes, we all know that phrase is quite brutal.
"Eh?" she insists.
"N-No. That's not the kind of thing. I mean, he's usually quite innocent."
"And this isn't innocent?"
"It doesn't sound innocent. Where did he...?"
"Uh. No, no, it was just an example!"
"Ah, well. You can't trust fiction much. Screenwriters always set up scenes with those kinds of lines because the audience likes unresolved sexual tension between characters, but those things never actually happen in real life," she explains, thinking she might have seen it in a movie. Beelzebub blushes slightly.
"Ah, o-of course, of course. I was just wondering if..."
"Although I could say it to him, but then these things never come up in conversation afterwards."
"No, I meant... if he were to say something like that, what would you do?"
"He wouldn't even say 'fucking' anything to me, not even if he were drunk."
"Oh. He wouldn't?"
"No, he doesn't swear. And that's good, because if he tasked me to fuck him, I might have to do it, and we all know that's disgusting, so I prefer to limit occasions to those that are really required."
"Y-You'd do it if he asked?"
"I'd have to."
"Y-You would?!"
"Well, I'd either have to come up with a good excuse to refuse, it's not usually an easy request, and if he gathered the courage to make it... I can already imagine the drama if I didn't."
"Oh. Would you consider it a serious request?" she swallows nervously.
"Well, that depends on the tone and the context and... everything else."
"In a tone..." she tries to remind him.
"Anyway, it was just an example, right?"
"Ehh... yes."
"Don't make too much of it, besides, angels aren't very well-versed in that."
"N-No?"
"Well, they can learn, but..."
"Learn? I don't think he..."
"From what I know, the first few times are awkward, but by the seventh or eighth, it works well."
"Seventh or eighth?"
"Uh, yeah."
"You're talking about sex?"
"Uh. Yeah, well... more or less."
"How can you talk more or less about sex?"
"It's a pretty broad topic."
"Sex?"
"Yes."
"You're by far not the most knowledgeable about it, but you're definitely the most disgusting."
"What?"
"There are other demons who are experts in tempting with sex. None with angels."
"Well, yes, clearly my expertise lies in fruit" she responds a bit offended, swallowing nervously.
"That's why I'm surprised."
Crowley feels quite proud of certain aspects of herself. Overall, not of her anxiety and the mess of a life she leads despite pretending not to care, and that's why she's cool and all that. But there are things about her that she genuinely likes. She likes her appearance. She likes being sarcastic, she likes her wit even though apparently it's what damned her and her antics. Until she has one like the one she's about to present. The problem is that Crowley can't control them until she hears them spoken from her own lips, because they generally don't pass through her brain until they're almost out.
"Well, maybe I'm not as incompetent. Or what, are you planning to assign one of those experts as my partner?"
Beelzebub raises an eyebrow, and Crowley puts a hand over her mouth. Shit shit shit shit.
"Oh, it's a good idea. Let him guide you."
"It's not... No. I mean, humans... angels aren't like humans, and we already said that I work better alone," she whines.
"No, it's perfect!"
"B-But..."
"Perhaps you can improve."
"Improve?" she protests.
"Yes!"
"Who says I need to improve!? Besides, they'll all be busy with their own plans."
"Well, the angel seems convinced, but not entirely in your power."
"What do you mean? How would you expect him to be?"
"Completely... besotted."
"He... He is," she doesn't look at her. "Hastur frightened him," she adds again, murmuring.
"What do you mean?"
"He brought him here and locked him up! And tried to kill him. Of course he's scared. In fact, I should be there comforting him and convincing him that Hastur was wrong. Every minute I delay in going, the more he thinks for himself, draws wrong conclusions, and it will cost me more."
"What cost?"
"Well, it'll be harder to convince him that I don't want to kill him and that he can trust me."
"You see? He's not in love enough," she rolls her eyes. "So how is that going to be useful to us?"
Crowley clenches her jaw, because this is more complicated than just that.
"He is in love, but he's not an idiot!"
"He is an idiot."
Crowley grits her teeth and almost bites her tongue to refrain from retorting.
"Being in love with you is the STUPIDEST thing anyone can do," she sighs... and they're not even working, she's just wasting her time. "Now, get out. I want a report on this tomorrow."
Crowley stands there with a look of... at least they could've told me about the 'fucking kill me without kill' for real... but she doesn't say it because she wants to leave and not spend the rest of the decade in a cell.
"I want to see USEFUL progress."
She doesn't even ask what useful progress entails like she normally would.
A dismissive wave of the hand, and off she goes, literally running.
In fact, if it were up to her, she'd leave an empty space with her silhouette. No, but without smoke effects, please. Let's not get ridiculous here.
A real act of magic. No unnecessary over-the-top effects. Seriously? Angel, go home! If you keep doing this, someone else is going to kidnap you again. Just saying.
No! He's worried!
Well, who knows if he'll come out that way... you can't have an anxiety attack every time she goes to hell!
Yes, he can! He's having one right now.
He can't, she works there!
Ah! But he still gets a panic attack every time she goes!
Well, she just dragged him out of there nearly dead, after Hastur did who knows what terrible things. He might get used to it again soon. For now... he's been waiting outside the stairs for quite a while with an anguished look on his face.
But we don't know if she's going to come out that way.
Why wouldn't she come out that way?! Ugh, she should come out that way! I suppose if it gets late and she doesn't show up, he'll go home to fetch his damn phone.
Because she'll come out the nearest exit without waiting for him to be there before they change their minds again.
They're going to have a lovely evening without bumping into each other.
Crowley is going to go look for him at the bookshop, that's for sure, and unfortunately, it's still the same mess as she left it...
Actually, worse, because she finds Sandalphon and Uriel inside.
Did they come to check if Aziraphale was okay? Aziraphale asks hopefully.
No, they've been waiting for Aziraphale because this is supposed to be like his... den or lair or whatever humans call it.
But it's not even consecrated ground. How can he be sure the demon who's supposed to kill him won't come in the middle of the night and do who knows what to him?
Oh. We could always consecrate it while we wait, but... Well, don't we supposedly want him to be killed?
Aziraphale can't be more useless. Honestly, if Sandalphon has to stay there to help him, this place is going to be consecrated.
Sandalphon? Are they really going to use Sandalphon? Ugh.
And let's get some fresh air in here because it smells awful. Aziraphale is going to INSIST on getting him his own place. Come on, it's shameful if he doesn't.
What for? He doesn't need to sleep.
So he can air out his house and consecrate it and leave his bookshop alone. They can't consecrate his bookshop!
Don't be surprised, by the time Crowley arrives they're censoring books. Why is he selling vampire books? What sacrilege, no, no, no, all of that to the corner to burn.
Censoring books?! BURNING?! No! Let him sell whatever books he wants! They can't suddenly prohibit him from selling books on things! You have to kick them out! Or get him here faster!
The bibles can stay, but what is this? Recipes? If God wanted men to eat macaroni, he would make them sprout from the earth. But there are even recipes with alcohol! And what are these treatises on pa-le-on-to-lo-gy? DARWIN?
The little bell on the bookshop door rings as the demon enters, and she instantly knows something's wrong. Especially because the doorknob burns her hand.
NO! Not the cookbooks! And don't TOUCH his wines!
They haven't found the wines yet, lucky for them.
Take his things. Please take all his things! HIS things! Crowley! Snap your fingers!
Before Crowley can't even notice what they're doing to the books, the two angels brace themselves against her.
Crowley tenses up like a board, and Uriel has the doors close behind him while Sandalphon starts reciting an exorcism.
Seriously, again? We weren't playing two exorcisms a week since the bloody 14th century!
No, no... no! Ugh!
She kicks off her heels, cursed day to choose to wear them, jumping onto a chair and then climbing onto a shelf to avoid touching the ground.
Uriel starts chiming in with Sandalphon on the exorcism while Crowley tries not to set everything on fire, honestly. She doesn't even know what to throw at them, running around and jumping from shelf to shelf.
Burn it all, suggests Aziraphale in horror, but he just doesn't want to be killed...
"SSSSTOP! SSSSTOP!" she yells, trying to catch her breath while perched on a column, half coiled around the capital.
"Back, DEMON OF HELL!"
"Ugh, seriously, it's not like I even like being here," she protests, trying to throw something at Sadalphon to shut him up, who keeps shouting more things in Latin.
"Bollocks, seriously, can't even have a conversation with you lot!" she protests, climbing out through the skylight they've opened to ventilate before they finish the bloody exorcism, slithering like a snake.
"That's exactly what I meant by anyone can come in here!" Uriel screams.
"Exactly. She must have come to kill him, you can't relax for a moment," Sadalphon protests.
"What a disgusting place to be."
"Imagine having to stay here..."
"Yeah, yeah. That's what I'm thinking. I'm sorry..."
"Are you sure you can't ask Gabriel to reconsider...?"
"Do you think I haven't already asked him?"
"And besides, if we finish off that demon, what happens to the traitor?"
"The traitor. Have you considered how unlikely it is that they'll both die at the same time?"
"Exactly."
"But, you know? I know it's strange to say, but I'd rather have this demon alive than Aziraphale."
"And yet, we're the ones giving him aid."
"I think what Gabriel wants is for us to clean up here and prepare the ground for the next one," he sighs.
"What do you mean?"
"Soon Aziraphale won't be here anymore, and they'll have to send someone."
Sandalphon makes a gesture of complete disgust.
"No one will want to come."
"Of course not, who would be foolish enough to come here with the... humans."
"Aziraphale, the fool. What would the demon do here?"
"Well, try to kill him, right? That's what they're supposed to have sent him for."
"He didn't seem like it, did he?"
"Actually... no. He came here unarmed and seems like we caught him by surprise. Although demons are pretty stupid."
"In Aziraphale's case, I'm not sure which is worse," he laughs. Sandalphon laughs too.
Aziraphale begs me to return... He must be walking back.
Well, he's going to get another smelly sack over his head. Seems like it was on sale. Or maybe it was part of the starter kit they give you on your first day of work. Here's the key card, here are the company rules, and here's this smelly black sack. Ah, and a HR-branded pen that promotes a good working environment and all that. Welcome to hell!
What?! Bloody hell on earth.