~ In Case Forever Ends Tomorrow ~ A Good Omens Fanfic

19 - Calm Before the Storm

~ Crowley's Perspective ~

The yellow eyed demon felt awful. His heart ached as he pushed open the bookshop door to hear the jingle of the bell overhead. The contract was in his jacket pocket, hidden from sight. He knew Aziraphale would never willingly agree to work for Hell. To spy on Heaven. It was in the deal that if Aziraphale signed, he would be a double agent working for Hell so the infernal side could win the war. In return, Aziraphale would be spared by Hell and would be safe. 'A special place in Hell,' Beelzebub had said.

"Angel," Crowley chirped upon entering. Aziraphale gave him a bright smile from his desk and put down his book. The shop was entirely empty save for the two of them. The war probably had most customers (the very few that there were) on the run.

Crowley almost snorted out loud at their foolishness. The humans really thought they could outrun a whole war. This was Armageddon - there was no getting away. Not this time.

"Crowley," Aziraphale greeted him, standing up. "Hello, my dear."

Crowley gave a small wave and slumped onto his usual couch, frowning at the thought that he would never sit there again. He would never yell at his plants, never drive the Bentley, never go out on dinner dates with Aziraphale. None of it. All of it would be destroyed once the war (and the world) ended.

"Is something bothering you?" Aziraphale asked.

"No," Crowley sneered sarcastically, "Not at all. Because there's not a war going on, and no one is dying. I'm perfect. Epitome of joy, that's what I am."

Now it was Aziraphale's turn to do the frowning.

"Oh, really, Crowley." the angel said, "I know you'll think of something."

"I can't think of anything!" Crowley lied, "But I suppose I'm being snappy about it. I'll make it up to you. Can I put on the kettle?"

"That would be wonderful." Aziraphale smiled warmly, reminding Crowley of why it was absolutely necessary to carry on with what he was about to do. He couldn't lose his angel, he couldn't stand never to see that warm smile, or hear his comforting voice ever again.

He loved him too much.

Crowley sauntered over to the back room, snapping his fingers to begin boiling the water. Of course, he could have just used a tiny demonic miracle to fix up a cup, but then he wouldn't have as much time. He slid something out of his pocket, something that hadn't been there upon his arrival. He stared at the small package in disapproval, then looked to the ceiling.

"I really am sorry," he whispered.

Somehow, he knew that somewhere, someone was listening. That someone was God, and She simply smiled down on Earth, knowing things none of us would ever know. Certainly not Crowley, though he wished someone would tell him.

The demon popped a cherry tea bag into Aziraphale's angel mug and filled it with boiling water. The red colour began to seep through the water, making it all stained scarlet. It reminded Crowley of things he didn't want to remember. Of things he didn't want to dream about. He then opened the small package from his pocket, and hesitated before dumping all the white powder into the tea. He gave it a quick stir, a lump forming in his throat as he brought the tea to Aziraphale.

"None for yourself?" the angel asked as Crowley entered the room and placed the mug on the desk.

"Nuh," Crowley replied, "I don't drink tea."

Aziraphale gave a hasty shrug and gleefully sipped the tea. Crowley opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Instead, he smiled at Aziraphale and waited. His heart dropped to his stomach, instantly regretting his decision. The powder was a tasteless drug designed to make one essentially drunk, in a way. It would make Aziraphale's mind feel foggy. It made people open to more... decisions... since they weren't thinking clearly. Or, at least, that was the effect on humans.