Summary:

A sort-of sequel to my GO stand-alone "Girls Night". Crowley goes to Heaven to get his angel back.

Notes:

Prompts: Amusement park; role reversal; "you got away with the crime while the knife's in my back"

Prompts Used: role reversal, "you got away with the crime while the knife's in my back"

This isn't really whumpy, but it does deal with some of Crowley's post-season 2 emotions. So spoilers for the end of S2. The song quote is more implied, with Crowley having basically forgiven Aziraphale immediately, even if he was still feeling hurt.

Chapter 2: Trust Issues

Heaven was definitely busier than the last time Crowley had been up there.

The lift doors had opened to reveal Muriel and a white-clad Crowley. While his disguise has been the same as last time, he quickly changed it before stepping out of the metal shelter of the lift. Now, he was clad similarly to the other angels milling about.

Muriel cast him a questioning look. Last thing the demon needed now was some nosy angel overhearing whatever they were about to ask. So Crowley shook his head, a discreet finger to his lips.

Earlier

"No, my dear Inspector Constable. I need you to arrest me again."

"But Mr. Crowley, I'm not really-"

"Ah ah, doesn't matter. I need you to take me- take me to...," he paused as his mouth filled with ash. Nope, change direction. "I need you to take me Up. I need to talk to Aziraphale."

Muriel furrowed her brow in confusion. "But Mr. Aziraphale is the Supreme Archangel. Can't you just visit him?"

"Oh, you dear, naive little angel," he sneered. "If I, a demon, waltzed into Heaven, I'd never get within five metres of your new Supreme Archangel. Tell me, have you heardanythingfrom your new leader? Anything at all?"

"Umm..." they actually had tothinkabout it for a minute before answering. "Well, no. But I'm sure he's very busy."

"Then why don't we surprise him with a little visit, hm? Pop in, see how he's settling? But we have to keep it all hush-hush. Got it?"

Present

Crowley strode along next to Muriel, long legs stifling their stride to allow his companion to keep up. His spine was straight. Uncomfortably so. Far more so than the serpentine links of bone were ever meant to be, actually.

Aziraphale better appreciate the effort.

The scenery began to change from Heaven's open floor plan to something more reminiscent of an office building. There was even a directory, which Muriel not-so-discreetly pointed at.

Five minutes later, Crowley stood before a door. The gold name plaque shone brightly in the harsh white light, and the demon could see his reflection distorted around the words "Supreme Archangel".

Muriel looked up at him expectantly.

"Mr. Crow-"

"Just-just stay here. Keep watch."

They nodded. He took a deep breath.

Then he opened the door.

Inside the office was not much better than outside. It was white on white on white. On instinct, Crowley darkened his glasses just to cut back on the glare. White ceiling, floor, four white, undecorated walls. No shelves, no books. The only furniture were two white filing cabinets and one large oak desk.

And behind that desk...

Aziraphale glanced up from a document, his face cold, betraying nothing. "Can I help you?"

"Look angel, I know I said some things, but-"

"You will address me as Supreme Archangel, first. And second," he slapped the document down on the desk, "I do not know who you are, but I am sure that you do not have an appointment. Please see yourself out."

Crowley stood there, flabbergasted. Those eyes hadneverbeen that icy, especially in his direction. Something was definitely wrong here.

He strode right up to the desk and slammed his hands down, leaving his weight forward across the polished surface. "What did they do to you, angel?"

Aziraphale glared at him, eyes glowing in righteous anger. "Howdareyou!"

"Oh, howdareI? You think that's impressive, you should ssssee my next trick."

Crowley dropped his disguise. If he wasn't so sure that he was about to get smited (smote?), he'd find the bug-eyed look of disbelief on Aziraphale's face comical. But time was of the essence. Hopefully he could break through whatever brainwashing Metatron had obviously done.

He had to- there was no way he was leaving his angel like this.

Taking Aziraphale's inaction as an opportunity, he quickly slipped alongside the oak monstrosity until he was right next to the newly minted archangel.

"Ok. We don't have time for this," he grabbed Aziraphale by shoulders and turned him to face fully. "You and I have known each other since the stars were born, Aziraphale. Since before human time, and every moment since. If you hadn't given your flaming sword away at Eden, you'd have sworn it to Heaven for most of that. But really, all the while, it's been us. Our side. You and me, we stopped the apocalypse. We drink too much wine in the backroom of your shop, where you keep mad hours to scare away the humans so they don't buy your books. We dine at the Ritz. We feed the ducks peas from our bench at St. James. You do terrible human magic, and I tell you it's terrible. It really is, but you love it, because the humans came up with it, and you're always on about how clever they are. You're the other half of Our Side, and it nearly killed Mr when the Nightingale stopped singing.

"I need you to remember," he leaned forward to rest forehead to forehead. "Please, angel."

Two hands roughly broke Crowley's grip, forcing space in between them. The serpent looked down. It was the bookshop all over again. His heart raced as he searched blue eyes for any hint of feeling.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity. Maybe the abridged version wasn't enough. Maybe he needed-

Crowley was yanked down suddenly, plush lips crashing into his own.

As soon as his brain realized what was happening, he broke the kiss. "Angel?"

Blue eyes filled with the width and breadth of human history shone brightly back up at him.

"Oh, dear boy, you- you came. After what I did, I never thought I'd see you again. I-"

The demon cut him off, slamming him against the desk before diving in for another searing kiss. Eventually though, better sense settled in and he broke the kiss reluctantly.

Satisfaction (and a bit of smugness) was there as the angel chased his parting lips.

"I know I reacted badly the other day, angel. I wasn't hearing what you were trying to say. You're a clever bastard, Aziraphale. I'm sssorry it took so long to figure it out."

"Well, my dear. You did, as I knew you would, and that is what matters. Oh, I thought I would be able to handle this on my own. You think I would have learned from the last Apocalypse, but no."

"Hey," one thing, bony finger slipped under the angel's chin. With gentle pressure, he guided Aziraphale's gaze back up. "None of that now. You're not alone, Aziraphale. We'll go back to the bookshop, tell Heaven they can sod off, and- wait, did you say last Apocalypse?"

Aziraphale nodded. "They're planning the Second Coming, Crowley! I believe Metatron was trying to get us to fight, to split us up. He's afraid of what we can do together. That's why I had to veil my words, dear. I never meant to hurt you. But I knew he was probably listening."

"Makes sense. Just means that we need Our Side more than ever. You ready to ditch this place and go home?"

"They can take this job and shovel it. I quit!" Aziraphale beamed up at him, and Crowley didn't have the heart to correct him.

"Maybe wait a tick on that resignation letter. We gotta get outta here first. Muriel is keeping an eye out, but we should get moving."

He made to turn towards the door, but was surprised when a soft hand grasped his own, rougher one. A devilish grin spread across his sharp features before he tugged the hand gently, pulling the angel close for one more quick kiss.

A demon could get used to this.

One last peck, more of a promise than a declaration, and they hurried to the door.

Whatever waited for them beyond it, Crowley knew they would face it together.