Chapter Text
Angels are defined often as supernatural beings who carry out the will of god, represented in human form with white wings and a robe. Ask most people and they will tell you that is the truth, however different outside opinions will tell you angels actually look like fantastical balls of light that speak with the forces of a thousand lost souls-altough whose lost souls no one can really agree upon, a much, much smaller group of individuals will tell you that that too is incorrect. Their perfect image of an angel would be something out of a taxidermists nightmare-a hundred snarling animal heads attached to the body of one great giant beast that stands as tall as the American Chrysler building. Unfortunately they would also be incorrect- to sum it all up in a very nice and accurate way the word angel could only be described using the word angel-because that is nothing short than what they are- a word attached to an ineffable device of my own choosing. They are every virtue acted on in times of war and every sin inflicted during times of peace. As well as everything in between- because everyone knows there is no difference, either way people are still dead and no one knows what happens afterward.
So to say two angels sat down in Regents park would be correct and incorrect at the same time and yes they were angels but not angels by your own standards so the proper thing to say would be two phonetics sat down in Regents park to make a deal.
"Good morning, Gabriel," Aziraphale whispered under his breath ecstatically, "It's so nice to see you these days." Gabriel craned his neck over his an old upside down newspaper he was holding too close to his face,
"Shut it, shut up, someone could hear you." He ducked behind the paper when a group of children toddled by whispering shrilly in each others ears. Aziraphale clicked his tongue fondly,
"Don't you just love children," Aziraphale hummed, "they always have the best games to play. You never see that sort of creativity on adults, now do you?" Gabriel throw the children a withering glare, "No, guess not-I don't see what's so exciting. The only thing they were brought on this earth to do was create more sticky fingered brats until the day of their species extinction is due." Aziraphale sighed, "You can't possibly think that, you must love them in some way, humans are such beautiful things, I've found that they have the remarkable ability to do what only God could seem to do-",
"Aziraphale," Gabriel warned him,
"I've found that when a human created something they put a bit of their life into it and make it a new, insert a piece of their soul into their passions-", Gabriel snapped his fingers and everyone in the park froze to a standstill.
"Humans are...fine, but really I called you here today on the subject of demons." Aziraphale cocked his head,
"Why ever would you want to speak to me about that...you agreed to leave me alone if-",
"And heaven is leaving you alone...this is more of a personal request, yhough." Aziraphale squinted, "a personal request?" Gabriel nodded watching contently as a child's ice cream began to melt under the sunlight and onto the child's hands in a filth of sticky goo that would most certainly attract flies, he sighed happily- flies.
"I need help and I'm sure you need help to-I've noticed, you and your demon don't seem as close-I've been looking up human relationships and have found that on a level of intimacy most people would categorize you to as "work friends," Aziraphale frowned and behind him a patch of grass burst to flames, burning to a black shriveled anatomical heart, "...a what," he asked softly.
Gabriel chuckled,
"See? Frustrating, isn't it, which is why I propose we team up-", Aziraphale blinked,
"Team up-frustrasting? Gabriel, do you...?"
"No," Gabriel snapped, "I don't like a demon...I like someone...but not a demon." He tapped his fingers nervously along the rivets of the bench, Aziraphale smirked, "I never said demon."
"But you were thinking it," he hissed.
They both watched in fascination as ice cream dripped down the kids knuckles and down on his stark white shoes, staining the cotton, Gabriel winced, "Of course, I wouldn't tell you who I like, but it certainly isn't a pathetic demon, so if we in agreement-",
"What are we agreeing to exactly, still not quite sure."
Gabriel worked the tip of his finger in the benches grooves,
"We're going to be each others birdman."
"Excuse me," Aziraphale questioned, "a bird what?" Gabriel sneered clenching his fists, "Birdman, you know, someone who assists someone they know to help them get the person they like, you've been on earth long enough-you should know these things." Aziraphale nodded,
"Ah, yes, I do believe I know what you're speaking of-I've heard them called Fly-fellows before but hearing myself say it out loud that sounds rather stupid-I believe your statement is more correct. "
"So are we in agreement," Gabriel insisted, he held his hand out, tempting the other-if he were not currently very, very desperate he would have had his corporeal body burned on a large stack and dipped in the nearest church's holy water-but desperation was a very cruel, very beautiful thing that caused men to make more mistakes than they breath.
Aziraphale having been along this same path with another more appealing character took Gabriel's hand and shook it sharply.
"My dear fellow, I do believe we have a deal."
Coincidences are said to be a roll of the dice-I myself disagree, in my infinite experience I would say coincidences are like using a reverse uno card in a role playing game that one would spend their whole life on in the basement of a Japanese dollar store that sells things made specifically for America. So the two demons coincidentally meeting in the Alnwick poison Gardens that very day was not only playing a reverse uno card in a roleplaying game but was also insisting that technically there wasn't any place in the rules that said you couldn't just do that-no one sets rules for how you don't play a game, just how you do-they expect you to follow unspoken rules all the same. No one told me I couldn't, so I did.
"Lord," Crowley whispered, smoothing his leggings down, "you called me here?" Beelzebub caught a fly buzzing near him by the wing and watched it writhe on between their coffin acrylic nails,
"Welcome, Crowley, it's so good to see you," their voice sounded as if someone had taken a sheet of aluminum and put it over an intercom at a grocery outlet and spoken into the microphone in the worst english accent imaginable.
"Doubtful," Crowley deadpanned, "tell me, really why are you here." Beelzebub smelled in deeply and yawned, "doesn't it just reek of death here, Crowley. Can't you taste it? The pain, anguish?"
"You should have smelled the 1340's," Crowley joked.
"Now," they snapped, "onto buizzness." Crowley nodded, "right, on with it. Professional as ever I see, what've you called me here for today?"
Beelzebub spat on the ground and watched the dirt corrode,
"How's you, angel?" Crowley stilled, fighting back a watery smiled on his face, "my angel," he asked.
"Mmyes, hell would like an assist with information inside of hea-",
"No," Crowley snapped, "absolutely not, piss off." Beelzebub frowned in confusion, "wha-",
"That angel is mine, you said so yourself, fuck off or my angel will use his resources to get me access to more holy water." Beelzebub's eyes widened, "why in the heaven would I want your angel?"
The dagger like fangs that had been growing in Crowley's open maw shrunk back into little canines,
"You-you don't," he stuttered, how could any one not want his angel? He felt the fangs in his mouth tighten, "who does hell want exactly?" Beelzebub worked their jaw nervously, "hell has requested that I seduce Gabriel-",
"The Archangel," Crowley shouted turning many heads. Beelzebub's scowl sent a swarm of bothersome flies tripping over their own wings to sting their scornful faces. "Yes, the Archangel, who else you nitwit." They brushed dandruff from their shoulders, "anymore stupid questions?" Crowley shook his head, "Gabriel," he repeated, "well I'll be blessed."
"So anyway," Beelzebub buzzed, "I thought, that since both of our angels don't love us-",
"Now hold on-",
"And we both need their attention-for completely different reasons, I thought, why not, Crowley izz already half way there."
Crowley kicked at a clump of grass,
"You want us to be each others wingmen, is that's what's going on here?" Beelzebub shook their head, "no, I'll be your wing..men, but you, you will help me keep this merciful angel under my cruel thumb." Crowley yawned, running steady fingers through his hair,
"Sounds romantic," he deadpanned, "alrighty, I guess. It's a deal," he licked the tip of his finger causing sparks to fly, "where do I sign?"
Beelzebub produced a large canvas contract from inside their coat, "sign your name under mine, pleazze." Crowley leaned in swirling his finger on the dotted line, "this better work, if I somehow loose my Angel's affection because of this you won't even have to worry about holy water-I'll do much, much worse."
He twirled and waltzed toward the front gate his hips snapping like a rubberband-the majority of hell couldn't help but watch with the smallest hopes that the rubber band might just snap back.
"Ciao," he called out, waving daintily, "I'll call you when I feel like it."
Beelzebub watched Crowley climb into his car and drive away, down the old road.
"Prick," they muttered and a thousand flies across the world looked up from their garbage and twitched nervously.