Work Text:
Crowley always hated these things. Not parties, specifically, just the job in general. This, in particular, was worse than usual though.
Hell wasn't supposed to like masquerade balls or even want to be within five feet of them unless that five feet gave them a few fresh bodies for downstairs.
Unfortunately, they decided to make an exception this time.
Crowley was to meet a man at the party, from closer than 5 feet, and convince him to fund some sort of venture that would lead to his ultimate arrival in Hell. He had already tried to seize Norway so it was safe to assume he was on the right track already.
Or at least that's what Crowley gathered. He had stopped listening to the briefing once he realized the important stuff had been said already: Location, Date and Time. He would figure out the rest as he went.
1792, Sweden.
He stared up at the opera house and took a deep breath. This was going to be a Thing.
At least it was a masquerade. Adds some type of fun to it. He wasn't wearing a mask though. He had to show up, not partake in the weird ritual of hiding one's face. He already did that enough with the glasses. Or at least he thought so.
He glanced around through the crowd, trying to remember what the man's face looked like. They had shown him a picture but the powdered wigs made all faces seem similar.
Of course, it didn't help that everyone wore a mask either.
Crowley would have asked around but he had forgotten the name as well. Something with a P, was it?
The rich ones always had the best clothes. That should narrow it down.
He did another quick scan of the room, making sure to take a glass of wine as a server passed with a tray.
Almost lurking, he stood there for a while just to watch the people walk by. Someone had to stick out at some point. And if not, he could always leave after an hour and tell the head office he tried his best.
Then his eyes caught the glimpse of a perfectly tailored coat. Cream colored, gold ornaments. The frilled sleeves seemed itchy and the shoes to match looked like they pinched. Definitely something he could imagine a rich man with an affection towards Norway wearing.
If he was wrong, not good news. He would have to spend longer here after wasting his valuable time. If he wasn't wrong, less worse. He would still have to convince someone of something he was quickly forgetting the details for.
Crowley kept his head low and started to walk through the crowd. He almost hugged the glass to his chest to avoid losing the only thing that would get him through this evening.
He pushed through the crowd with a few: "Excuse me madam"s and some less polite "Pardon me"s to the surrounding guests.
As he took longer, the faster his feet moved. His patience with crowds was thin. Too loud, too many people, never enough drinks.
That's when he remembered his wine. He lifted the glass to his lips but didn't think to stop his feet.
Suddenly he found himself knocking into something and his arm jerked enough to spill the wine. He huffed at the now half-empty glass before focusing on what unfortunate creature had caused him to lose his drink.
The coat was familiar. The sleeves and the shoes were familiar too. The only thing unfamiliar was the red stain on the undershirt. It was clear it was the man he was trying to get to.
"And I just had this ironed..", the man sighed while inspecting the tainted fabric.
The voice was familiar too. And now that he looked at it, so was the hair. Crowley wasn't expecting that.
"Aziraphale?", Crowley spoke up while tilting his head a little and quirking a brow.
The man-shaped angel froze before he looked up to stare at the demon. Luckily the white-feathered mask only covered so much of his face. "Crowley", Aziraphale sounded somewhat breathless.
"What are you doing here?", Crowley's shoulders went slack and he slouched.
"If you must know, I am here for work", Aziraphale said while pulling out a handkerchief with a huff. He started to dab his shirt. "Same as you, I assume?".
"Good assumption". Crowley glanced around and snapped his fingers. A few seconds later, a server came by. He traded his old cup for a new one.
"Does that mean Hell enjoys..?", Aziraphale trailed off, glancing at him.
"Not at all", Crowley spoke into his cup before taking a swig.
"Ah", the angel made a sound that suggested he wasn't very surprised then his eyes narrowed and he frowned. "You're not going to ruin the party, are you?".
"I need to find someone first". Crowley eyed the wine stain. The handkerchief might have been making it worse.
"Find who, exactly?", Aziraphale asked with a snippy tone that was definitely directed at the stain.
"Someone. Need him for something".
"I'm in a similar predicament".
".. Do you think it's the same one?", Crowley slowly asked.
"Same what?", Aziraphale scrubbed faster.
"Who we need to talk to".
"I don't think that's possible", Aziraphale shook his head with an almost chuckle.
"What's the name of yours then?", Crowley cocked his head slightly.
Aziraphale slowed. "I'm not at liberty to say", he almost whispered.
Crowley silently took another swig of his wine while keeping his eyes on the angel. He watched him struggle with the shirt until he eventually huffed and pocketed the handkerchief.
"No luck?", he asked, trying his best to sound interested but not pitiful.
".. Obviously not. And in the middle of this, no less", Aziraphale sighed.
Crowley leaned a little to brace most of his weight on the other foot. He then pointed at the shirt and flicked his finger to the side. The stain disappeared like the fabric was staining itself back to white.
Aziraphale straightened out the shirt with a smile and a glance directed at Crowley. "Thank you".
Crowley slightly raised his glass in acknowledgment before downing the rest of the alcohol.
"Right. I made you spill the other one", Aziraphale looked around.
"You did", Crowley agreed like he didn't want to apologize for bumping into him to begin with.
"How about I get you a new one? I'm planning to get one myself, you see. It would be more convenient if we went together, rather than I going alone and bringing it back to you here-", Aziraphale started to ramble.
"Alright", Crowley cut him off, abandoning his glass on a table.
Aziraphale did a strange motion with his hands, that Crowley had seen countless times, before squeezing them together. He smiled more.
Crowley nodded and started walking after Aziraphale gestured for him to go first.
"What does Heaven want out of some human at a dinner party?", Crowley asked as they walked through the crowd together. It seemed easier this time around.
"I can't tell you that", Aziraphale said without sounding too defensive. "And besides, you haven't even told me what Hell would gain from this".
"A new resident", Crowley over-pronounced.
".. Are you sure they didn't mention anything else? Any misdeeds that needed to be done? I know you miss details sometimes", Aziraphale eyed him.
"I don't miss details", Crowley lied.
"I'm just making sure", Aziraphale held his head a little higher. Smug bastard.
"If I had to ruin your fun, I would have said so by now".
Aziraphale looked at him with a hard to read look that wasn't even the mask's fault. "If you say so".
"I do. I do say so", Crowley put his free hand in his pocket.
"Best to stay out of each other's way then", Aziraphale nodded once.
".. Right". Crowley looked him over. "Nice suit".
"Oh. Thank you. I was waiting for a chance to wear it", Aziraphale smiled.
"I like the sleeves. Look fun", Crowley tried to make up for the thoughts he had before, not that Aziraphale heard them.
"They are fashionable. A little bothersome at times", Aziraphale scratched his wrist with a weak chuckle, "But! So is the price".
Crowley smiled a little and leaned a tad closer.
Aziraphale eyed him. "Fashion. Looking high-standard. Image is important", he said matter-of-factly while fixing that frilly thing around his neck that Crowley couldn't remember the name for.
"Image, yeah", Crowley didn't agree but simply said.
"Is your suit new?".
"Nah. I've had it for a while, just like you".
".. Really?", Aziraphale perked up.
"No", Crowley responded flatly.
"Oh", Aziraphale sounded almost disappointed.
Crowley swallowed a chuckle.
"Not very.. Approachable colors", he gestured at him. "The black and red".
"Tha's the point", Crowley smiled more.
"Of course you wouldn't enjoy these events. Too loud?".
Crowley blinked and took a quick breath through his nose. "Not at all. It's the infinite chances to make someone do wrong. Hard to resist", he lied again and his smile vanished.
Aziraphale looked him over while trying to pull his suit straighter. ".. Of course". He then looked forward as they got closer to the bar.
Crowley watched him for a few seconds before leaning away again. ".. Does Heaven enjoy this kind of stuff?".
It took a few seconds for Aziraphale to only glance at him with a quiet: "Hm?".
"Do yours like masquerades?", Crowley asked again.
"... Oh! No, no. Unfortunately this seems to be a one-time thing. For now", Aziraphale flashed him a quick smile that made Crowley feel weird.
Crowley nodded and they both approached the bar in silence.
"What would you two like?", asked the bartender who had a very bland suit and a mask to match. At least he stayed on theme.
"Oh, no. Just him and me, separate. Not together. Why would we be together?", Aziraphale awkwardly chuckled while eyeing Crowley.
"Something strong", Crowley answered with an amused smile.
Aziraphale cleared his throat a few times. "I'll take the opposite, please?". His voice still wavered a little.
The bartender nodded and went to get the drinks. Aziraphale looked out towards the crowd then.
"Not a very easy place to find someone, is it?", Crowley asked in an attempt to undo the quiet of earlier.
"Not the most ideal", Aziraphale tried to be nice but Crowley could see the way his mouth was turned down.
"I could.. Lend you a hand. If you want". Crowley focused his eyes on the bartender.
"... It is a big crowd", Aziraphale commented quietly but not quiet enough to be missed.
"Mhm". Crowley nodded as the bartender placed their glasses on the counter.
".. This is a very time sensitive assignment", Aziraphale put emphasis on the "is".
Crowley took their glasses and offered Aziraphale his.
Aziraphale eyed him while slowly reaching for the glass. Once he grabbed it, he held it close. "Fine. But I won't help you with yours".
Crowley wouldn't want that anyway. "You'll owe me later". He took a swig from his glass. He didn't like it. Tasted cheap, somehow.
"I'll remember for next time". Aziraphale sipped from his glass and hummed in that way he does.
Crowley took another breath through his nose and downed the rest of his glass. He still didn't like it but it helped. He set the empty glass on the counter and started to look around for another one of those wine trays.
"He won't make it easy for me", Aziraphale spoke up.
"Who?", Crowley glanced at him.
"The man I'm looking for. We must be vigilant", Aziraphale stood taller and smiled.
"Vigilant", Crowley repeated. He was putting most of his vigilance into finding proper tasting alcohol. "Thought of asking around?".
"I'm not sure anyone would know that he's here", Aziraphale looked around.
"He doesn't have many friends?", Crowley joked.
"Not that", the angel quietly corrected.
"What, did he sneak in?".
Aziraphale stayed quiet.
".. Is he not meant to be here?", Crowley repeated, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
Aziraphale started to drink again.
Crowley groaned and started to focus his attention on the humans.
"I'm sure we'll find him", Aziraphale to reassure but that was the opposite of what Crowley wanted.
"Are we sure that's the right thing?", Crowley leaned against the bar. He hated the crowd even more now.
"Well. It's not up to you, is it?", Aziraphale started to get huffy. Crowley would take it more seriously if he didn't look like an angry owl.
"You asked for my help. You're getting it now, angel". Crowley suddenly remembered something and had an idea at the same time.
"I can handle myself, thank you. And if I don't want your help, I can very well deny it", Aziraphale set his glass back down on the counter.
"You haven't denied it yet", Crowley glanced at him before starting to walk again.
As he hoped, Aziraphale quickly stepped to follow beside him. "Where are we going now?".
"I think I saw something".
What he saw was an excuse to avoid any unwanted guests and a way to separate from the crowd, and by proxy, any humans looking to do someone harm. But he wasn't going to tell Aziraphale that.
"Who? I haven't even told you what he looks like yet", Aziraphale looked around.
"It's a hunch. Bad knows bad or something like that", Crowley quickly dismissed him.
Aziraphale stayed silent after huffing again.
Crowley felt a small pang of guilt but it's not like it was all for his own selfish reasons.
He didn't want to find the deviant that Aziraphale was charged with talking to and this was a good way of not finding anyone. Whoever it was could be dangerous and Crowley couldn't let Aziraphale embarrass himself like that.
The two kept walking, eventually making it into a hallway. They were far from the party now and much closer to the actual theatre inside the building.
"I'm starting to think this isn't the right way", Aziraphale finally spoke up after being quiet the whole journey.
"It is. Probably. Maybe. Has to be", Crowley got quieter with each statement. He didn't mean to.
Aziraphale stopped which caused Crowley to do the same. "It isn't, is it?!", he gasped.
Crowley made a vague noise and averted his eyes. He knew Aziraphale couldn't technically tell but it still felt like he was staring. "There's no telling its not if we don't look".
"Are you doing this on purpose?", Aziraphale sighed. "Is this what your actual plan was?".
Crowley looked back at him to see him with That face. It made him want to frown so he grimaced instead. "Of course not".
"You say that..", Aziraphale trailed off, clearly leaving space for Crowley to either admit he was doing wrong or defend himself. Most likely the latter.
"Because it's true. Like I said: If I was supposed to sabotage you, I would have mentioned it by now, don't you think?", Crowley shifted on his feet.
"If I'm willing to believe that's true-". Aziraphale took stock of where he was standing before crossing his arms. "Explain why we're here in this hallway", he demanded.
"Like I said. I felt something bad", Crowley lied. Partially.
"That's very specific", Aziraphale did his best to deadpan but Crowley knew he could do better than that.
"It's still bad", Crowley scoffed and turned his head away.
Speaking of bad, he wasn't getting a good feeling from the left.
Aziraphale huffed and stepped closer and back into Crowley's view. "Is this the right way or not?".
The left side of Crowley's corporation tingled and he shook his head to try and fend the feeling off.
"No, it's not the right way?", Aziraphale frowned slightly.
Crowley managed to make a throat sound that would have been a "no" if he managed to open his mouth.
Aziraphale opened his mouth instead and that's when Crowley got it. The Feeling. Something Wrong. Bad.
He leaned to the left and his weight shifted that way with him. He started to walk in the direction of the Feeling, like a hellish radar system.
"Crowley!", Aziraphale followed after him again. "Did you actually find something?".
"Yup. And it's not good. Not at all", Crowley quickly explained the best he could.
Aziraphale went silent for a moment before perking up, "You were looking for someone, right? Maybe it's yours. It being a Bad feeling and all".
Crowley fixed his glasses and started to walk faster. He just wanted to get free drinks and expected a headache at most from all of this. The last thing he expected was possible paperwork for a discorporation.
And on top of that, Aziraphale was with him.
"And you said you wouldn't help with mine. So, go", Crowley gestured for him to stop but the angel stayed right beside him.
"I'm not going anywhere. I've come this far, haven't I?", Aziraphale fixed his coat. Crowley would have been impressed if it wasn't for the fact that they could be walking into a deathtrap and for once the angel wasn't avoiding the Wrong Thing.
Crowley grumbled in response. No rebuttable would have stopped him so there was no point wasting breath on one.
The two came to a set of doors. They stopped in front of them and Crowley felt like he had just walked through a cold spot.
Aziraphale slowly raised a hand to push the door open. He peaked through but looked away soon after. He shook his head with his lips pressed into a thin line.
Crowley took a deep breath and pushed open the other door to step inside. His corporation tensed. He was choosing to believe that was because of the Feeling and not that other F word that he wasn't going to even think about.
Aziraphale followed close behind. Close enough to be blocked or pushed aside if need-be.
Crowley looked around the opera hall. It was definitely bigger than he thought it would be. Not as impressive as he hoped.
He heard a quiet gasp from Aziraphale. Of course he liked it. He probably wanted to see a show here too.
After scanning the seats, Crowley looked towards the stage and saw two figures. They didn't seem to like each other with how things looked.
The two men were in a scuffle that Crowley felt no obligation to stop. Aziraphale wasn't rushing over either but he had started to creep out from behind Crowley to get a better look.
One man was trying to wrestle something from the other.
Crowley squinted and focused. He could tell the weapon was a gun and one of the men seemed familiar.
Without a mask, it was easy to see it was the man he was looking for. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he was the one that had brought the gun.
Aziraphale made a quiet noise and clasped his hands together.
Crowley shuffled a little closer to him and tried to make a comment but was interrupted by a gunshot. He froze and Aziraphale snapped his fingers.
Crowley felt everything stop. Or at least the two men and the bullet did.
"Trying to kill someone at a party. Honestly..", Aziraphale sighed.
Crowley fixed his glasses and relaxed a little. "It's easier to get away with murder if nobody sees your face".
"Well, you recognized me. They're not completely reliable". Aziraphale started walking towards the stage. Crowley followed.
"Of course I recognized you. It's hard not to", Crowley glanced at Aziraphale's eyes.
"For good reasons, I hope?", Aziraphale smiled a little.
"Mostly", Crowley smiled too.
Aziraphale scoffed quietly but his smile remained. The two walked onto the stage and Crowley walked towards the man he was supposed to find.
Crowley looked Mr. Norway over, the man Hell wanted, and was annoyed to see his outfit wouldn't have stood out too much in a crowd after all.
Mr. Norway was frozen with his hands raised and a silent yell on his face. It made Crowley feel bad so he looked away.
"That's not very efficient", Crowley thought out loud.
Aziraphale was staring at the gunslinger. He could have been disappointed. All that was missing was the furrowed brow that Crowley couldn't see.
"Mine might have had it coming, honestly", Crowley ducked under the bullet and stepped closer to Aziraphale.
"During a party of all things? Really? It's like a cliche mystery novel", Aziraphale scoffed, with more feeling this time.
"Not very creative", Crowley smirked at the angel's annoyance.
"You would expect some decorum, at least", Aziraphale fixed his coat with a raised head. Crowley had to force himself not to grin. He liked this color on him.
"And have him shot outside of the party instead?", Crowley humored the idea.
"... Well", Aziraphale looked between the two men.
Crowley blinked and this time he couldn't keep the grin at bay anymore. "That wouldn't be hard..".
Aziraphale fell silent for a few seconds before shaking his head. "No. No! We are not moving them. As much as I would like to enjoy the rest of this party, we are not tampering with this", he gestured at the scene and took a step back.
Crowley's smile faded a little. "Someone should find them though. Besides us".
Aziraphale looked around before snapping his fingers again. He looked back towards the door. "Someone's bound to turn up".
Crowley started to walk off the stage. "We better leave then".
"It's a shame what this will do to the party", Aziraphale sighed and walked past him as Crowley slowed.
A little tampering wouldn't hurt.
Crowley looked at the bullet again. He reached out and moved it down just a little. He wasn't exactly sure if it would miss but it would definitely do something.
He then hurried after Aziraphale and did his best to casually catch up to him without drawing too much attention to himself.
"We could still get some drinks, while we wait", Crowley suggested. He would be getting alcohol whether the angel went with him or not but company wouldn't hurt.
They made it to the door before Aziraphale finally answered: ".. I don't see why not".
The two were standing on a balcony. Crowley had argued this would be a good spot to witness the men exit the building, one in handcuffs, the other on a gurney.
He had nicked a tray of wine before slipping out of sight with Aziraphale. They were both on their second glass of wine with Crowley close to his third.
"So, what do they have you doing after this?".
Aziraphale had taken off his mask and set it aside on the railing. "Hm. Unsure. You?".
Crowley took a sip of his wine and shrugged. He hoped it wouldn't be something like this again.
"Well.. Here's to it being easier next time?", Aziraphale raised his glass.
Or maybe this happening again wouldn't be so bad. Crowley tapped his glass against Aziraphale's.
Crowley downed the rest of his cup while Aziraphale took a sip instead.
Crowley traded his glass for a full one. "What about yours?".
"What about mine?", Aziraphale raised a brow.
"The one you were looking for. What about him? You won't get in trouble for this, will you?", Crowley leaned closer.
Aziraphale stiffened and held his glass closer. ".. Ah. If I explain things, I'm sure it will be fine", he muttered.
Crowley tilted his head and leaned even closer. There were more tells now that the mask was gone. "You know, you could always blame me. I'm a demon after all. I'm not supposed to make things easy for you".
Aziraphale looked at him with slightly wide eyes before smiling. He shook his head. "That's very kind of you to offer but I'm not sure that will help".
"Why not?".
Aziraphale finished his glass before looking over the edge. People were starting to leave the building.
".. That one was mine", he whispered.
Crowley blinked and looked at the crowd as well. He was trying to pick out anyone particularly Good. "One of them?".
"Close".
Crowley watched the humans before he saw the gunman be dragged out of the building. "The one with the gun? And all the shooting? That one's Heavens?".
"I doubt he'll be ours much longer, especially after that", Aziraphale chuckled weakly. "But yes".
"What were you supposed to do with him?".
"It's not important now", Aziraphale waved him off.
Crowley wanted to pry but that didn't usually end well. Instead, he grabbed another glass and offered it to Aziraphale.
The angel smiled more and took the glass, discarding his empty one. "What about yours? I can't help but feel a little responsible".
"Don't. He was going down there either way". Sooner, if the bullet killed him.
Aziraphale nodded slowly before looking down at his glass. ".. Still. I hope it doesn't end up being a problem for you".
"I doubt it will", Crowley assured softly. "I'll tell you if it does though", he lied yet again.
Aziraphale gave him a look that made Crowley feel guilty. "I'll do the same then". Crowley wasn't sure if he believed that or not. He was going to try to, for the time being.
Crowley then remembered something and snorted.
"What?", Aziraphale eyed him.
"You ended up helping me after all", Crowley smiled.
"How is that helping?", Aziraphale gawked and Crowley had no intention of stopping where this was going.
"I won't have to talk to him now. He must have been a pain if someone decided to shoot him", Crowley shrugged.
Aziraphale chuckled and Crowley smiled more. "I don't think you can fully thank me for that".
"I'm not going to talk to yours about it. I wouldn't want to make him feel better about murder", Crowley made a face.
".. That's a good point", Aziraphale mumbled.
The two then stood together in silence. Crowley wasn't entirely comfortable with this, mostly because he couldn't tell if Aziraphale was. Their meetings were infrequent and usually short, for good reason.
He knew Aziraphale started to get jumpy when things went on for too long between them. Crowley wanted to suggest parting for the night and possibly several more years, like usual, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.
He took a sip of wine every time he wanted to speak and kept a close eye on Aziraphale. He liked to think he was good at telling when enough was enough but right now he had no idea.
Aziraphale was staring off somewhere. His eyes weren't darting around. Crowley knew what that looked like, and that wasn't it.
He shifted a little closer to test something. If Aziraphale moved, that would be that. And if he didn't.. Crowley didn't think ahead that far.
He stared at Aziraphale's face and waited. The angel glanced at him and shifted a little. But he didn't move away. He looked like he was smiling just a little.
Crowley rested his hand on the railing to brace himself and stayed where he was. He figured if he moved an inch, something would happen. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that.
Aziraphale then moved. Closer. Just a little but he did. Crowley's grip tightened on both his glass and the railing.
It wasn't helping that Aziraphale was giving him a look he couldn't read. His eyes were narrowed just a little and he was smiling. Crowley would have assumed he was drunk but three glasses was not nearly enough to have any effect.
Crowley's eyes were the ones darting now. He was very glad to have his glasses.
Aziraphale slowly took a sip of wine, his eyes locked onto Crowley. This wasn't uncomfortable anymore. This was different.
The angel leaned closer and Crowley felt like his glass was at risk of breaking in his hand. He coughed and turned away. He chugged down his wine instead of doing nothing.
Aziraphale then finally moved away. There.
"I'll... I uh.. Yeah. I'll be leaving now, I think", Crowley set aside his glass and dusted his hands off.
"I should probably be doing the same, actually", Aziraphale agreed. Good. "Very busy and all of that".
"Good luck then", Crowley nodded at him.
"You too", Aziraphale smiled.
Crowley moved his mouth to say more but nothing came out, even as he tried to force something. He made a noise with his throat to compromise with his vocal cords and gave a lazy wave.
Aziraphale waved back, smiling more. Crowley took a deep breath and wished he had more alcohol. He also wished he could stay.
He turned and walked back inside the building.
He would unpack all of that later. Or maybe never. Definitely never. Never sounded much better.
A couple of days later, Crowley was called Downstairs. He had explained things to Beelzebub and the Prince of Hell wasn't too upset about the situation. They were actually glad to hear someone tried to shoot the man but disappointed about the fact he hadn't died.
Apparently, the bullet had missed anything that could have killed him right away so they were able to keep him breathing. For now. Who would have guessed.
Crowley was a little proud that his meddling had an effect but he was mostly relieved.
Now he wouldn't have to lie to Aziraphale about being in the clear or not.
It was just a matter of when he saw him again that he had to worry about.