Chapter Text
“...Within 5 years we shall have im’” Hasturs voice echoed through the cemetery like a proud sermon.
“Great” Crowley murmured in response as he watched the leaves swirl around his feet in a colourful autumnal blur. His concentration was drifting as it often did during his check-ins with his demonic counterparts. He wondered privately how any beings could meet and say the same things with the same inflection for thousands of years and assume any kind of significant progress.
“....she will fall and upon my word, in 10 years we will av’ er” Ligur proclaimed a dark sneer on his face. Crowley glanced at his watch. There were 15 minutes remaining till his favourite patisserie in town opened. Following that was 10 minutes in which the baked goods would be at optimal temperature and taste. That gave him a very small window of opportunity to procure the peak breakfast experience in town.
“Crowley”
Of course, they would be flavourful for the rest of the day and he could always miracle them back to the 10 min mark but if he could have them as originally intended it was preferable.
“Crowley!”
“Oh, my turn is it?” Crowley asked and waved a hand dismissively keen to end the session “The war”
“The war?” Hastur asked as Crowley straightened his jacket and ceased leaning against a prostrate angel statue.
“Yeah, that skirmish that's been going on a hundred or so years down south. Souls still coming in from that I'm sure of it” Crowley replied and turned toward the cemetery exit. Hastur's hand landed heavily on his shoulder.
“Crowley we're all very impressed by your cunning in that particular dealing,” Hastur said sourly eyes glinting with resentment “but you can't keep relying on it as your main source of souls”
In truth, there had been no cunning to his plan at all. He shouldn't in good conscience even take credit for any of those souls but he was a demon so conscience wasn't his top priority. He'd merely kidnapped a dignitary for a lark, honestly hoping to ruin the man's dinner plans but during the evening he'd spent with Crowley hostilities had broken out and a war had begun. Apparently, this dignitary was very good at keeping the peace. He'd also had a wicked sense of humour that Crowley rather appreciated.
“Alright, alright, I'll get on it this week” Crowley conceded distantly realising it had been almost 150 years to the day that that dignitary had died.
“They thought you might say that” Ligur said with a grin, “thought you could use some direction”
“I don't know why you two don't just come out and say these things before Deeds of the Day” Crowley grumbled under his breath.
“What was that?” Ligur asked.
“What do They need me to do?” Crowley replied shrugging off Hastur's hand with a polite jerk of his shoulder.
“There is a priest in this village o’ yours-” Ligur began.
“Oh, a priest. Good. Easy. Same time next week?”
“e's very meaningful to the other side,” Ligur said deliberately.
“e’s already saved many souls” Hastur added.
“Very pious” Ligur concluded. Crowley looked from one to the other with the suspicion of a man being set up.
“Aren't they all” Crowley smiled though it did not reach his eyes “I’ll hop to it then. Till next time. Au revoir”
***
The village was picturesque with a distinct appreciation for artisanal quality. It was misleadingly quiet and Crowley had almost dismissed it as boring when he first came across it. He’d come for the wine and stayed for the concealed and beguiling web of adultery, theft and controversy. It had been his, for lack of a better word, home for a few years now. In spite of this, he had never run into the priest Ligur and Hastur mentioned as far as he could tell. In the cobbled town square stood an old tree said to have been the founding element of the hamlet. It was there that Crowley, warm croissant in hand, began his observation of the church.
The majority of the townsfolk where keen on the practice of attending he knew that much. They would pile in and out breathing life into the square as they came and went. Children would play and laugh. The adults would chatter. Crowley could see why heaven had their eye on this priest. To have such an enthusiastic congregation was rare. He, however, could not get eyes on him at all. After three days of watching the church’s comings and goings, he began to speculate that the priest never left at all. On the afternoon of the third day there was an older woman who visited the church bringing groceries and Crowley groaned with frustration. Evidently, he didn't even leave for food.
Priests, generally speaking, were easy prey for demons. The denial of many pleasures meant many avenues of temptation. Visiting that temptation on a priest who never left their church however was a challenge that suggested why Hastur and Ligur had been so delighted by his mission. Difficult it would be, but not impossible Crowley mused, formulating some ideas. As he deliberated he heard the creek of the old church doors opening and snapped to attention.
“Finally” he grumbled.
The man closed the doors behind him before stepping out into the midday sun. The light kissed his face and caught in his hair, so pale blond it might have been white. His skin was fair and painted with a healthy pink glow. His eyes were a verdant green. Crowley's hand tightened at his side. He wore a soft tan suit, a pale sky blue shirt and a dark gold vest. After a contented sigh, he began sweeping the leaves off the stairs that lead to the entrance of the church. Crowley wasn't sure what he expected the puritanical priest to look like but it wasn't this. The man looked more like a bookshop owner than a priest. But then, he supposed with a shrug, looks could be deceiving.
His sharp eyes flicked to a woman exiting the town's chocolaterie. Carmen was her name, she was a beautiful Spanish woman, bucksome, passionate and already carrying on three affairs in town that Crowley knew of. With a snap of his fingers, she remembered that she needed some bread from the opposite side of the square. Crowley felt a small thrill run down his spine as he eyed the priest waiting to see him notice her crossing the square. There was something delicious about watching humans fall. Her hips swayed sensually and she tossed her hair smiling up at the priest as she drew near. Crowley felt the barest hums of temptation entering the priests mind before he lifted a hand and waved.
“Hello!”
Carmen walked by. Crowley blinked.
“Hello there!” The priest called again smiling from the top step of the church. Crowley realised with embarrassment the priest was talking to him. He had a fleeting thought of hiding before deciding that wasn’t a becoming course of action for a demon of hell.
“Uh…” Crowley said lamely with a small wave “Hi”
“Don't believe I recognize you, dear boy, are you new to town?” The priest called his voice was friendly and refined. Crowley looked around a little ensuring no one was watching then made his way over to the church.
“No, I've been here a few years now” Crowley responded.
“Oh” the priest said cheeks deepening in shade.
“But I wouldn't blame you for not noticing” Crowley found himself saying, “You don't seem to get out a lot”
“No. Haha I suppose you're right..?” the priest said voice trailing off clearly searching for a name.
“Crowley” Crowley replied wondering if Anthony mightn't have been a less conspicuous option.
“Crowley” The priest said with a nod.
“So what is keeping you so busy in there father?” Crowley asked, now only a foot or so from the church gate.
“You could come in and have a look” he said with the air of a man excited to share his work.
“No!” Crowley yelped and the priest started at the sharpness of his tone.
“uh.. I uh...I actually remembered I have a place I need to be…” Crowley added pointing vaguely to the downtown area. The thought of the scalding he would receive upon stepping foot in the church made him shudder.
“Oh. Well. Perhaps next time then” the priest accepted with a slightly confused air as Crowley pivoted the direction of his walk away from the church.
“Perhaps” Crowley muttered.
***
Crowley decided to lie low for a few days while deciding on his next move. He skimmed the general sentiments of humans on a fairly regular basis. Any man he’d ever seen come into contact with Carmen, and a handful of women, felt some base attraction for her. The priest’s negligible reaction to her suggested women weren’t really his bag. Next on the list of temptations, though he was loathed to admit it, was a child. He couldn't imagine the priest being interested in children but he knew better than to dismiss the possibility. The orchestration of such an event took more planning than the first and so it was on the evening before the next Deeds of the Day Crowley took his second shot.
He lurked on a side street leading into the town square. It was common for the town streets to be almost completely empty at this time of night. A perfect stage for what was to follow. Orange light burned warmly from the windows of the church casting a glow across the square. Crowley rolled up his sleeves. First, he gestured to the sky. His hands drew a complex shape in the air and clouds began to roll in. Next, he turned to the streets and beckoned wind to blow through them. Finally, on the wind he threaded the unmistakable smell of sweets cooking. The wind blew on carrying the scent to a little boy that lived less than a block away. He was reading under his covers long after he should have been asleep when the smell of baking sweets curled through his window and under his doona. Crowley slid into the shadows and waited.
Thunder rumbled as the moon was enveloped by storm clouds and the streets fell into darkness. The boy, having followed the scent of baking treats, rounded the corner. As he eyed the town square to see where the smell was coming from it began to rain. He started to think better of his adventure and the mounting chances his parents would realise he was missing. Then he heard a strange sound. It was like whispering in spite of there not being another soul in sight. He shivered instinctually. He backed away from the square and turned to retrace his steps then froze in horror. Something long and black and huge was rising from the darkness through the curtain of rain. Lightning cracked revealing the fangs of a giant snake. It hissed lashing forward. The boy screamed and took off running toward the last source of light - the church. He scrambled towards it - the cobbles slick beneath his feet. In his panic, he did not watch his footing and slipped crashing to the stone. He began wailing whilst still frantically eyeing the space around him for the snake he'd seen. Crowley in his original form made his way around to the side of the church keeping to the shadows as he went.
The church doors opened light surrounding the child.
“Goodness me” the priest exclaimed. Without hesitation, he descended the steps to the crying child.
“Can you get up?” the priest asked over the sound of the growing rain. The boy shook his head through tears and screamed about a monster. The priest eyed the square for said monster before resolutely scooping the boy up and taking him into the church. Crowley slithered over the church fence, into the garden and up a tree that gave him a view into the church windows. He searched for the sting of human temptation.
He watched the priest carry the boy down the centre aisle and set him down at the front pew. He inspected a graze on the boy's knee and spoke softly to him. He asked a question and the boy removed his jacket handing it to the priest. Crowley held his breath. The priest smiled then swept out of the nave. When he returned he brought a blanket, a cup of cocoa and a bandaid. He wrapped the blanket around the boy's shoulders, gave him the coca and set to dressing his graze. The waves of kindness emanating from the scene were so strong they almost made Crowley lose his grip on his perch. He resolutely shook the daze and closed off his sense of the human's emotions. The priest sat down by the boy and began pointing to something behind the altar. The priest appeared to be telling him a story. Crowley's curiosity piqued and he tried to get a better look. The trees were placed too far from the windows to see the altar. He considered changing back into human form to get a better look but was interrupted by two worried adults striding up to the church. Crowley slithered down to the damp ground and back to the front of the church to see the exchange stomach dropping.
“Thank you so much for taking him in father Aziraphale,” The woman said lifting the boy into her arms while the husband covered them with an umbrella “I hope he wasn't any trouble”
“Not at all” The priest, Aziraphale, Crowley noted, said pleasantly in response “he just got a bit of a shock that's all. Take care heading home now”
“We will” the husband replied and they departed both soothing and chiding the boy as they made their way into the night.
As Aziraphale watched the family leave Crowley noticed something distant about his expression. A stillness to his form. He suddenly appeared rather small standing there in the rain. Without thinking Crowley found himself being drawn toward him but before he could come fully into view Aziraphale turned quietly and headed back inside.
Crowley blinked uncomfortably. He’d, unthinkably, nearly revealed himself to the priest in his original form.
***
“You whot?” Hastur asked.
“I frightened a child” Crowley repeated slowly. The air was crisp the following morning. Frosted leaves crunched beneath Crowley's feet as he shifted his weight. He ducked his head slightly into his collar to avoid the cold air nipping at the nape of his neck.
“Your Deed is you frightened a child?” Hastur echoed.
“He was terrified” Crowley exclaimed “Skinned his knee and everything”
“Aw forgive me! I didn't realise e’ was terrified. I'll get right onto the dark lord and let im’ know personally”
“Learned about sarcasm have we,” Crowley asked, “now who's going native?”
“You were supposed to fell the priest” Ligur said ignoring their bickering.
“I'm working on it” Crowley retorted.
“Proving a bit of a challenge? Not falling for the regular stuff?” Ligur asked with mock concern and Hastur chuckled darkly before adding
“Priests can be difficult”
Crowley was losing patience as his suspicions mounted.
“What aren't you telling me?” Crowley hissed.
Hastur and Ligur shared a look. Hastur leaned forward.
“The priest is gonna be an angel one day” he hushed in a deep rough tone.
Crowley laughed for a moment before realising Hasturs expression wasn't changing.
“That's not possible. Humans can't become angels” Crowley said.
“This one will” Ligur replied.
“It's impossible” Crowley said shaking his head.
“It's not for us to say what's possible,” Hastur said reverently as if the line were a sacred bond.
“We need only do what’s necessary” Ligur agreed.
“Yes but-”
“Can you do the job or not Crowley?” Hastur asked.
Crowley swallowed his incredulity.
“Of course I can”