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Now if the fine people of London were to describe Mr. Ezra.Fell and one Antony J. Crowley they would maybe and with a reassuring look over their respective shoulders to check that Mr.Crowley is not around because appearently he is known to have a little bit of a temper that seems to be way worse than that from Mr.Fell who looks quite stricken when he utters a word like fuck into the open when something happens to his beloved books - well...they would say that the two of them are a rather odd couple for very different reasons.
There are the facts about them you see. People like facts that can be explained, something rational and real and with the both of them it seems rather hard to do that.
While Mr.Fell is always smiling and soft spoken his sense of dressing is rather – well odd. Outdated but nobody says anything to that because there was that memorable day when someone did and Mr.Crowley – whom many of the good people in London think is some sort of notorious criminal but nobody says it out loud when he is around as established before – took offense.
It is rather natural to take offense when someone rather rudely tells your loved One to shove it because he is a fat bastard with no style. It is natural to have strong words with the person who does that for sure. It is however frowned upon even in a rather modern society to throw the offender of your partner through a second story window and growl like some creature from damnation. It is also rather unusual for said offender to land on solid bricks without a scratch. Some might say it is a miracle.
“Crowley.”
Mr.Fell had said, face pinched in an unpleasant expression about the whole affair but Crowley had just shrugged, also not pleased by the affair but for the fact that said offender hadn´t broken any bones.
“Angel.”
He had said, just as grim and a bit sourly to what Mr.Fell had softened up at once and taken a step closer.
“I know my Dear. Just..”
There was that other thing that went on between them – the thing where they seemingly talked without a simple word being exchanged. For the people fond of gossipping it was hell and for the Ones stupidly in love it was always heavenly when they finally kissed. Soft and almost chaste – just before Mr.Crowley moved fast and bowed Mr.Fell over to intensify the whole lip locking which gained a few gasps and also a few thumps up.
“Temptation, Angel. Can´t do a bloody thing about it and frankly I really don´t want to.”
Mr.Crowley had grinned at the very red faced Mr.Fell who in turn had said nothing more but taken his hand inside his own and started to lead him away. They both were a strange couple to most of the people who came upon them but those who had thought that Mr.Crowley was – as the saying goes – the bad apple of the two of them were in for a rather great surprise on a normal Sunday were the two of them had their weekly outing.
While Mr.Fell seemed to have a rather sweet tooth Mr.Crowley took more to the, let´s put it this way – alcoholic pleasures of life without ever getting drunk which in turn raised also a few eyebrows and curious conversations about town which also wisely nobody commented much. The great surprise , as far as great surprises can go on a Sunday in Regent´s Park it was maybe to see that Mr.Fell did have a temper after all when someone said something about Mr.Crowley to his face. The few Onlookers watched in rapt attention because it was something new. And it made no sense at all because the man that came toward the pair of them obviously was raging mad.
For One – he was wearing a Three Piece Suit that did nothing for his rather plump figure and muttering something over Sodom and Gomorrah being way lovelier than watching such betrayal. Some of the other people around to witness the scene just thought he was a raging homophobe but didn´t intervene because for one there was Mr.Crowley and secondly the look on Mr.Fells face was the same one he did sport when once some unlucky soul had tried to steal a priced book from him.
It hadn´t gone over well.
The funny thing about most people (aside their love for sorting out fact and fiction, of course) is their utter curiosity.
“Sandalphon what is it that brings you here on this fine day?“
“Him! This serpent. I cannot believe it – the rumors are one thing but this – this ..have you no shame? Have you gone completely mad Aziraphale to not only lay with a demon but to declare you will never return to Heaven because this bastard is the love of your life and nothing in all of divinity is worth more?”
Mr.Fell just scrunched up his nose, a hand on Mr.Crowleys shoulder in what could have been taken as reassurance and cleared his throat before standing up.
“Yes I did that and I do think with all due respect this is none of your business.”
That was the moment it got really weird and largely confirmed the thesis that the man was indeed off his rocker for good. He brandished a plant mister like a weapon only to point it at Mr.Crowley. It wasn´t just weird, it was downright bizarre because the next thing that happened was that Mr.Fell – kind and always beaming Mr.Fell punched the man so hard in his face that he flew about several meters through the air only to land in the nearest pond much to the offense of several ducks.
“As I said it is none of your business, best regards to Gabriel, tell him to fuck off.”
Not much attention was paid by the good people of London to the scene who happened to be at the park to that same time because there was only so much that one could take of bizarre on a Sunday.
Especially when Mr.Fell just turned around again, resuming his place on the blanket next to Mr.Crowley and offering him a piece of cake. Mr.Crowley said nothing much to it just leaned in and to share a sweet kiss with the blonde man who apparently could be rather devilish when it came to certain things.
After that nobody bothered either of them much and the strange man who had caused that unwanted Sunday surprise was never to be seen again. It was all indeed very bizarre to the good folks of London because they didn´t know the truth which was perhaps the best because who on earth would believe that after all that ordeal an Angel and a Demon shared a quiet nightcap before retiring to bed because the world had yet again changed but this time only for them?
“Angel ….”
Crowley stared, snake eyes weary and wide in wonder. It was a first for him to wonder about something that concerned him and Aziraphale. While they had slept together (which was a holy revelation for Crowley and Aziraphale had punched him in the shoulder for the blasphemy afterward while secretly agreeing) there had never been the word love thrown around.
“Yes Dear?”
Crowley counted to ten, then hundred stopping by thousand before continuing.
“I said we got our side now and you´re a wicked shag but..”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes but smiled fondly before inter winding their fingers together.
“I don´t care for a Heaven that is without you. I haven´t really done so in the last six thousand years.”
Crowley said nothing for a moment before breaking out into a laugh which made the angel frown.
“I just realized what idiots the both us are and ...”
He continued laughing for a moment joined by his partner for the exact time of twenty minutes and seven seconds. The rest of the night wasn´t spent laughing but that was their buisness all alone
End