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The Great Ice Cream Caper
The Bentley was an ice cream truck. A bloody, yellow, tartan, ugly as...well, Hell ICE CREAM TRUCK. Crowley couldn’t believe it. Bad enough that Aziraphale’s smug Supreme Archangel arse had come crawling back to Earth asking for his help in finding Jesus. Bad enough that the world was actively trying to rip itself into pieces and would most likely not be here if they didn’t find Jesus in the most literal sense.
“Change back.” Crowley hissed at Bentley. “You’re embarrassing me, change back.” The only answer he got was a raucous blast of the horn. “Old Macdonald?! Really?!” The Bentley flashed her lights in a way that could almost be called a smirk. “This is your fault, Archangel!”
Aziraphale beamed over at him. “Crowley, I can hardly be blamed for this. Perhaps the old girl just missed me and wanted to show her appreciation for soft serve ice cream.” Crowley made a face as two soft serve cones popped into existence on Bentley’s window. “I do not want bloody ice cream. I want my car back to how she’s supposed to be. I want to find Jesus. You can just...make those vanish.”
“Crowley, don’t be so harsh. She’s trying her best, the dear. I’ll take those.” Aziraphale took the cones and licked one. “Oh my! Crowley, you really must try them! They really are delicious.” Bentley tooted her horn in pride.
“They really are delicious.” Crowley snarked. Aziraphale shot him a look. “I don’t care, okay? Yeah, maybe she missed you. I mean, I did too, but you don’t see me turning into something I’m not. Still the same demon, still the one you left behind for Heaven.”
“You missed me?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley shrugged one shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess. Just...don’t make anything of it, okay? Only reason I missed you is because Earth is bloody boring without you. Wasn’t like I really thought about you that much.” He looked away from Aziraphale. “Just...y’know...every single day…”
“I thought about you too, you know. I know you don’t understand why I left, but believe me when I say it was for both our sake’s. I wanted to go back so many times, but…”
“But you didn’t. It’s okay, Archangel. Aziraphale. And hey, if anyone had to be picked to be Supreme Archangel, I am glad it was you and not Michael. Or Uriel.” Crowley shuddered. “Or Sandalphon.” Aziraphale shivered. “But why the ice cream truck?!”
“Well, I don’t know. As you said, reality is fracturing. Maybe Bentley is fracturing along with it. Or maybe she wanted to try something new.” Bentley honked again and manifested two more cones. “I don’t think she’s going to let up until you take the cones, my dear.”
Crowley groaned in annoyance and grabbed the cones. “Fine. But I’m not eating them.” His smile grew wicked. “Matter of fact…” With a decidedly demonic giggle, he chucked both cones as high as he could in the air.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale admonished. Crowley grinned.
SPLAT. The first cone landed on the sidewalk. Crowley frowned. “Where’s the other….”
SPLAT. Aziraphale blinked, then began to giggle as Crowley suddenly realized just where the other cone had landed. The demon let out a not demonic at all shriek and slapped at the back of his jacket, jumping up and down. “Cold cold cold cold cold!”
Aziraphale’s giggles turned to howls of laughter and he leaned against Bentley, wiping tears form his eyes. Crowley glared at him.
“Aziraphale, help me! This stuff is bloody cold!” Aziraphale nodded, holding up his shaking hands, and snapped his fingers. Crowley stopped dancing in place and sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Now, shall we continue with our quest to find Jesus before this world comes to an end, or do you still want to debate the merits of the Bentley being an ice cream truck?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Angel, we’re still gonna talk about that. But yeah, let’s go find Him before it’s too late.”