Work Text:
Crowley cackled as he trapped Hastur in the machine and did a small hop over the puddle in the doorway. His nose wrinkled at the smell. Sulphur, brimstone, general stink, holiness and … was that ammonia? He zoomed down to the carpark, already forgetting about the odd smell.
Crowley led Aziraphale into his flat, zig-zagging his way past the puddle in his doorway. He made a face as the scent hit him again. He knew that humans expelled everything on death, but he didn’t think Ligur would have had anything to expel. His nose told him differently.
“Oh dear.” Crowley heard Aziraphale exclaim exhaustedly on coming to the puddle.
“Yeah, sorry about the smell.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” Aziraphale snapped a wash bucket and scrub brush into existence and got to work removing Ligur from the floor.
“You don’t have to do that,” Crowley said, while hoping quite strongly that Aziraphale would complete the chore.
“Not at all, my dear fellow. It is my mess, after all.” Aziraphale smiled up at him. “You’d hardly expect me to clean up after you.”
Crowley shrugged, not quite following Aziraphale’s logic, but also content to not deal with a Holy puddle. “Honestly never thought I’d use it. Hoped I’d never … “ Crowley’s voice trailed off, going soft. “Glad I had it.”
Their eyes met and Crowley read apology, fear, shame, and gratitude in Aziraphale’s gaze. “So am I, Crowley.”
Aziraphale went back to scrubbing the spot and Crowley let out a heavy breath before turning to his liquor cabinet. “Can I get you a drink?”
Aziraphale huffed a laugh. “Needing more already, are you?”
Crowley’s hand paused in reaching for a bottle. They did share that bottle of wine in Tadfield, true, but … “S’been a long night.”
“True.” Aziraphale finished cleaning and vanished the bucket and brush. “You know I’d never turn down a quality drink.”
“And I’d never offer anything not of quality.” Crowley huffed a laugh as he poured two glasses. He returned to Aziraphale who was gingerly holding his tartan thermos. He held out a glass and Aziraphale took it from him.
“To Holy Water … “ Aziraphale gave a half-hearted humorless smile and then swallowed down the finger of Taliskers.
“More?”
“No, it should be fine, we did have the wine already as well, and we have much to do before the night is over.” Crowley nodded. “Just takes a moment to get it all working again. It’s been … decades. Loo?”
Crowley was starting to worry, even when Aziraphale was completely drunk and babbling about gorillas in nests he made more sense than he did right now. Maybe Adam scrambled something when he separated Aziraphale from the medium human.
“En suite, just off my bedroom, on the left.”
Aziraphale nodded his thanks and excused himself. Crowley took a seat, trying to figure out what to do next, and whether Aziraphale was actually up for whatever discussion they needed to have. He was so scattered that he’d even taken the flask to the loo with him. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne waiting for Aziraphale to finish.
It was only a few minutes before Aziraphale reappeared, still carrying the flask.
“There you are. And don’t worry, I made sure there is no trace anywhere in your bathroom.” Aziraphale set the flask on Crowley’s desk.
“Thanks.” Crowley was still confused. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
“Well, I see now you were right, it is absolutely a necessary precaution for you to have a weapon against demons close to hand. You used the weapon I gave you, to perfect effect, it was only right I should replenish it.” Aziraphale was looking at Crowley with gravitas.
Crowley sat back and tried to get his brain to allow the connections he was trying to make. It was fighting him ferociously, but eventually it had no choice but to give up.
“Are you telling me … you’re seriously telling me that you gave me a thermos of piss?”
“Of course, well, and other fluids. The mixture appears to have been quite potent.”
“Other. Fluids.”
“I was going to only provide ejaculate, being the most potent source I have at my disposal, but it simply was too viscous, and I wasn’t able to create the volume I felt was needed. So I mixed it with other fluids to liquify it and boost the amount of Holy Water I was able to provide.” Aziraphale snapped a comfortable armchair into existence across the desk from Crowley.
Crowley was still coming to terms with the fact that he’d held a thermos of Aziraphale’s bodily fluids in a safe for nearly half a century, and now he had even more. Aziraphale looked at him with surprise and confusion.
“What on Earth did you think I gave you?”
“Wha- what did- what do you think I thought?! Blessed water! Like they have in churches!”
“Oh, Crowley, don’t be silly. That is hardly real Holy Water. That is a placebo at best, but it makes the humans feel better and closer to God, so it does no harm.”
“B-but Dogmatic law?!”
“Yes, they believe it is Holy Water, and so it becomes so … for humans. As a weapon against a demon it would do nothing.”
Crowley shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around all of this new information before coming back to the present. “Right, I only have one question, and then we need to figure out what to do about that prophecy.”
Aziraphale cocked his head as Crowley carefully handled the thermos. “What’s that?”
“Next time I need Holy Water … can I help you make it?”