08: Bright Ideas: Angeldemoncrackfic
By luckilyotto, for rhombal
Bright Ideas
It was a highly random and rather last-minute decision on Crowley's part. Of course, as he was recently finding more and more common with highly random and rather last-minute decisions, perhaps it would have been best to just forget about it and do something completely different at a much later date. Aziraphale appeared to be thinking the same thing more often than not, though he would never admit it and would simply bear it all with a smile. That was just his way. For Crowley's part, all that kept his often twitchy eye from being utterly obvious were those ever present sunglasses of his. Oh, yes, they hid it well. That aspect of them came in quite handy quite frequently these days.
First it had been the walk in the park. Then it had been the cinema. Yet again at the Ritz. After that had been the gallery showing. The visit to Ireland had been next. It had even happened at that bloody wedding reception for What'shisname and What'shername who vanished ten minutes in and left all of the guests to amuse themselves for a good four hours. And now? Now it was a cruise. Because yes. Oh yes. It just figured, didn't it? And there was nothing quite like a trip on a ship to the tropics with the inhabitants of both Heaven and Hell.
Apparently it had been cheaper to just give all angels a collective subconscious and apparently that was one thing the demons had definitely never managed to shake.
It hadn't been so bad to begin with, really. A couple hours into the cruise they had run into Famine and Pollution and, after a moment's conversation, they knew that Beelzebub and the Metatron were both on board, as it had been the latter who had invited the two Horsemen along in the first place. That was nothing to worry about, of course. It was a big ship. They could likely manage to avoid the Lord of the Flies and the Voice of God without too much trouble and a friendly hello should they ever cross paths was hardly an issue.
It was another hour or so later that they saw Mephistopheles hurrying rather fumingly down a corridor, however, and they gave a short nod of acknowledgement as he passed before looking at each other and proceeding to run, quite literally, into Hastur.
"Well, look who else is here!"
Crowley cringed. Look who ... else?
Hastur grinned. "I recommend hitting the club lounge on your way across the boat. Belial's seduced the 'tender and the bar's as open as someone's mouth after Norman hits them with the tongue thing."
Crowley and Aziraphale simply stared as the demon walked away. He was just about around the corner when he looked back at them to add, "Oh yeah. And steer clear of Meph if you wanna keep your head. Lost his angel and now he's on a rampage."
About five minutes later they were still standing there when Aziraphale muttered, "Kind of him to warn us."
It was, in short, a ship of madness. Every time you turned a corner, you were sure to see someone or, more likely, something you would rather not. Michael and Raphael were being sickeningly sweet in the hot tub until Hastur made enough commentary to drive them away, at which point Nemesis smacked him and wandered off in search of ice cream. Balthazar and Constantine had somehow managed to take over the bar, of course actually getting anything generally involved distracting them from the distraction caused by each other, which meant that it was just as easy to go back and serve yourself. Mephistopheles was still rampaging, although he had eventually managed to find Gabriel and most of the raging now revolved around the fact that he had apparently never been informed that Phlegethon Hades was joining them on this little vacation. Beelzebub had also managed to get caught snogging Lucifer, as one might call usual, after which the Metatron had been thoroughly distressed, as one might again call usual, and yet Beelzebub had, one way or another, managed to make it all seem perfectly normal and acceptable, yet again as one might call usual. Crowley honestly felt rather sorry for the unsuspecting mortals who had found their way onboard. He rather doubted that they had been expecting the ballroom to go up in flames every hour on the hour, or to be spending the next week with short-tempered angels, rowdy demons and Belial's seduction, or near seduction, of every last person present on the ship.
Somewhere around noon on the third day out, Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves sitting quietly in the only place one could manage to even begin to define anything as quiet -- their own suite. They had locked and practically barricaded the door for the time being, even. Anything to keep everyone else out.
It was almost peaceful.
"What are the odds?" Crowley muttered, collapsing into one of the chairs backed up against the door.
Aziraphale sat in the chair next to him, reading, and glanced up over his book.
"I mean, seriously." Head falling back, the demon removed his sunglasses to rub viciously at his eyes. "Everywhere! They're just everywhere. It's--"
"Astounding?"
"Annoying."
"Improbable."
"Impossible."
"Ineffable."
"Don't even go there."
It was amazingly silent for a moment before Aziraphale looked back down at the page. "I suppose it could always be worse."
Crowley grunted. "I suppose."
"Although one little event without the unexpected company of angels and demons might be rather enjoyable."
"Might?"
"Well, would."
"Right."
The angel looked up again. "But it's not that bad."
Crowley was about to respond when he noticed the look that suddenly crossed his companion's face. It was the expression of one horrified. Or, perhaps, the word traumatized was a bit more accurate. Of course, he knew better than to turn and look out of the window and whatever it was that had left Aziraphale so disturbed. And, of course, nothing could have kept him from looking.
Oh, how he wished that something could have kept him from looking.
"You know? Next time I get some bright idea like this out of nowhere?"
"Yes?"
"Remind me to make a point of doing the complete opposite."
And he closed the curtains because, in all honesty, there are some things that one is never meant to see without going blind.
A sunbathing Dagon may very well be one of them.
Bright Ideas
It was a highly random and rather last-minute decision on Crowley's part. Of course, as he was recently finding more and more common with highly random and rather last-minute decisions, perhaps it would have been best to just forget about it and do something completely different at a much later date. Aziraphale appeared to be thinking the same thing more often than not, though he would never admit it and would simply bear it all with a smile. That was just his way. For Crowley's part, all that kept his often twitchy eye from being utterly obvious were those ever present sunglasses of his. Oh, yes, they hid it well. That aspect of them came in quite handy quite frequently these days.
First it had been the walk in the park. Then it had been the cinema. Yet again at the Ritz. After that had been the gallery showing. The visit to Ireland had been next. It had even happened at that bloody wedding reception for What'shisname and What'shername who vanished ten minutes in and left all of the guests to amuse themselves for a good four hours. And now? Now it was a cruise. Because yes. Oh yes. It just figured, didn't it? And there was nothing quite like a trip on a ship to the tropics with the inhabitants of both Heaven and Hell.
Apparently it had been cheaper to just give all angels a collective subconscious and apparently that was one thing the demons had definitely never managed to shake.
It hadn't been so bad to begin with, really. A couple hours into the cruise they had run into Famine and Pollution and, after a moment's conversation, they knew that Beelzebub and the Metatron were both on board, as it had been the latter who had invited the two Horsemen along in the first place. That was nothing to worry about, of course. It was a big ship. They could likely manage to avoid the Lord of the Flies and the Voice of God without too much trouble and a friendly hello should they ever cross paths was hardly an issue.
It was another hour or so later that they saw Mephistopheles hurrying rather fumingly down a corridor, however, and they gave a short nod of acknowledgement as he passed before looking at each other and proceeding to run, quite literally, into Hastur.
"Well, look who else is here!"
Crowley cringed. Look who ... else?
Hastur grinned. "I recommend hitting the club lounge on your way across the boat. Belial's seduced the 'tender and the bar's as open as someone's mouth after Norman hits them with the tongue thing."
Crowley and Aziraphale simply stared as the demon walked away. He was just about around the corner when he looked back at them to add, "Oh yeah. And steer clear of Meph if you wanna keep your head. Lost his angel and now he's on a rampage."
About five minutes later they were still standing there when Aziraphale muttered, "Kind of him to warn us."
It was, in short, a ship of madness. Every time you turned a corner, you were sure to see someone or, more likely, something you would rather not. Michael and Raphael were being sickeningly sweet in the hot tub until Hastur made enough commentary to drive them away, at which point Nemesis smacked him and wandered off in search of ice cream. Balthazar and Constantine had somehow managed to take over the bar, of course actually getting anything generally involved distracting them from the distraction caused by each other, which meant that it was just as easy to go back and serve yourself. Mephistopheles was still rampaging, although he had eventually managed to find Gabriel and most of the raging now revolved around the fact that he had apparently never been informed that Phlegethon Hades was joining them on this little vacation. Beelzebub had also managed to get caught snogging Lucifer, as one might call usual, after which the Metatron had been thoroughly distressed, as one might again call usual, and yet Beelzebub had, one way or another, managed to make it all seem perfectly normal and acceptable, yet again as one might call usual. Crowley honestly felt rather sorry for the unsuspecting mortals who had found their way onboard. He rather doubted that they had been expecting the ballroom to go up in flames every hour on the hour, or to be spending the next week with short-tempered angels, rowdy demons and Belial's seduction, or near seduction, of every last person present on the ship.
Somewhere around noon on the third day out, Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves sitting quietly in the only place one could manage to even begin to define anything as quiet -- their own suite. They had locked and practically barricaded the door for the time being, even. Anything to keep everyone else out.
It was almost peaceful.
"What are the odds?" Crowley muttered, collapsing into one of the chairs backed up against the door.
Aziraphale sat in the chair next to him, reading, and glanced up over his book.
"I mean, seriously." Head falling back, the demon removed his sunglasses to rub viciously at his eyes. "Everywhere! They're just everywhere. It's--"
"Astounding?"
"Annoying."
"Improbable."
"Impossible."
"Ineffable."
"Don't even go there."
It was amazingly silent for a moment before Aziraphale looked back down at the page. "I suppose it could always be worse."
Crowley grunted. "I suppose."
"Although one little event without the unexpected company of angels and demons might be rather enjoyable."
"Might?"
"Well, would."
"Right."
The angel looked up again. "But it's not that bad."
Crowley was about to respond when he noticed the look that suddenly crossed his companion's face. It was the expression of one horrified. Or, perhaps, the word traumatized was a bit more accurate. Of course, he knew better than to turn and look out of the window and whatever it was that had left Aziraphale so disturbed. And, of course, nothing could have kept him from looking.
Oh, how he wished that something could have kept him from looking.
"You know? Next time I get some bright idea like this out of nowhere?"
"Yes?"
"Remind me to make a point of doing the complete opposite."
And he closed the curtains because, in all honesty, there are some things that one is never meant to see without going blind.
A sunbathing Dagon may very well be one of them.